Hey, Cobblestone,
Hear now the Parable of the
Orange Juice Jug:
Back before humans had civilized
themselves, orange juice came in jugs with fussy lids. After pouring the
delightful contents, the human was required to line up the lid, find the start
of the thread, and give it a full turn to close it tightly. It was quite a
strain on humanity, delaying for perhaps a full second the enjoyment of the
deliciousness. And then some clever person, probably a direct descendant of the
great inventors of the early Twentieth Century, devised a lid that could be
slapped onto the jug at any old orientation, given a quick right-y/tight-y
quarter turn, and – viola! – be done and all.
Well, one evening, with
generations of family gathering ‘round my table, I reached for a glorious jug
with the cleverly updated lid. Inside was the good stuff – pulp and all – and
it needed a good shake to make sure all was fair. And shake it I did,
vigorously enough to pop the lid completely off. O-F-F. Not loose, not askew,
but all the way o-f-f off. It had been given the slap, but not the
quarter-twist. I looked straight at the perpetrator – the one who is one flesh
with me – and cried, “Put a lid on it, will ya?!”
Another male-and-married member
of the family saw it all as comical: juice all over the counter; pulp, like a
booger, hanging from my nose; and the rocketed lid making its final gyrations
on the floor. He laughed heartily. His wife shot daggers with her eyes.
Children wailed. My bride was crushed. Three generations of harshness were
suddenly loose in the house.
You might think the blame would
be righteously placed on the non-lid-putter-on-er, but no. I had violated a
biblical mandate, the one that forms the basis of our “Pursuit of Gentleness”
series of letters:
Let your gentleness be
evident to all. The Lord is near (Philippians 4:5).
Here’s what I’ve seen, and
consider to be a rule of human nature: In the absence of gentleness, harshness
happens. Without a commitment to gentleness-forward, harshness will stand at
lock-and-load with a hair trigger. We might think we can catch it in time, but
harshness needs little opportunity to cause big problems. With a mere 6.5 words,
I had brought down the house.
With my upcoming retirement from
the staff of Cobblestone, today’s letter is my last to you, Church, for the
foreseeable future. I believe Jesus would be pleased for me to take my best
shot at busting some myths about gentleness, as follows:
Myth: Gentleness is passive; it
sits in the background, waiting for a quiet moment to be heard. Busted:
Gentleness is active; it preempts the need for reconciliation by averting the
sin of harshness. The Bible verse says, Let your gentleness be evident to
all. What could be passive about that?
Myth: Gentleness requires a
thick skin; maintain an even keel and a stony face until the temptation to
harshness has passed. Busted: Gentleness requires depth of spirit; let the
offense drop into the still waters of forgiveness. The Bible verse says, The
Lord is near. Gentleness has a short shelf life, which is why we have the
Holy Spirit inside to rotate and replenish, to freshen the stock. Thick skin
leads to bitter waters; depth of spirit is a healing pool for all parties
involved.
Myth: Gentleness is for losers;
only those who can’t claw their way to the top will fall back on this cover-up
for defeat. Busted: Let me introduce you to the gentlest winner of all – his
name is Jesus. Another Bible passage says, Therefore, since we are
surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every
weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with
endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the
founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before
him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the
right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such
hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted
(Hebrews 12:1-3).
This letter is being posted on
Good Friday. Could there possibly be a better time to “Consider him who
endured…”? Sometimes, when I step aside from the lightning-bolt pace of life, I
wonder what will survive the second coming of our King – what attitudes
or institutions, what monuments to human cleverness, what practices among men
will not be burned up? Arrogance, cynicism, the willingness to step on the
heads of others for upward mobility – these all crowd instantly, in my mind,
into the class of “wood, hay, straw” mentioned in 1Corinthians 3:12. The first
to go. The tinder that sets all else ablaze – just like it does now. Happily,
one of the divine attributes that transfers readily to humanity is… gentleness.
Thank you, Jesus!
How many orange juice jug lids
have been ejected since that fateful night? I’ve lost count, because I decided
not to – count, that is. But those lids do serve as a reminder. I don’t fear
the lids. I don’t fear the non-lid-putter-on-er with whom I am living life out
of the same refrigerator. I do, however, have an adversarial respect for the
tendency to harshness that lies close to the surface. And I remember: The
Lord is near. Nearer than the harshness. Stronger than the pull of
self-pity. More reliable than any human device.
I commend to you the gentleness
of no less than Jesus himself. This is what we – all of us in the household of
God – owe to each other, for Christ’s sake.
Grace and Peace forever and
always,
John
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