Choice

Ephesians 1:1-14

Mark 6:14-29

               Today in the narrative lectionary we begin a look at the book of Ephesians.  And for today what I want to say about this passage is simply that it is in many ways the elevator version of Christianity.  It talks about our being chosen first by God, our adoption, redemption, forgiveness, grace, mystery; the pleasure and plan of God for all to be gathered in, inheritance, the seal of the Holy Spirit.  But to be honest, as I looked over the passages for today, I felt much more called to focus on this very disturbing passage from Mark.  So, we will be discussing that today.  And what I want to look at in particular is this idea that Herod had, this belief that Herod had no choice but to behead John the Baptist. 

We know this story.  He imprisoned John the Baptist, and according to this story in Mark, it was because John had told him that he had acted unlawfully when he had married his son’s wife.  But at the same time as he had imprisoned him, it was also clear that he valued John the Baptist.  Herod was getting something from that relationship, it was freeing for him, it was teaching him, it was touching him.  He respected John.   

Then we come to the second part of the story.  His daughter, Herodius, dances for Herod and his guests.  Herod is so pleased that he says to her “ask me for anything and I will give it to you.”  Herodius asked her mother and her mother asked for John the Baptist’s head.  Now here is the interesting part.  The story says, “although the king was upset, because of his solemn pledge and his guests, he didn’t want to refuse her.  So he ordered a guard to bring John’s head. The guard went to the prison, cut off John’s head, brought his head on a plate, and gave it to the young woman, and she gave it to her mother.”

Herod believed that he had no choice.  He had no choice but to take a man’s life, an innocent life; a life, furthermore, that he greatly valued.  Now we can go into the specifics of why he felt this way.  We can talk about shame culture and the huge consequences he would have faced if he had done anything differently.  We can talk about what it means to have choice in this situation.  But regardless of whether you feel he did the right thing or the wrong thing for his place in that time and in that situation, the fact still remains that he had a choice to make and he made it, despite the things he told himself about lack of choice.

As I read this story, a Joan of Arcadia scene came to mind in which God asks Joan to play chess.  She joins the chess club at school and ends up beating the school chess champion though she really does not understand how to play the game.  Other disasters happen in which she is a part and finally she ends up in a chess game against God.  She still doesn’t really know how to play chess, but she sits down to begin.  She says,

“I don’t really know how to play chess.”

God responds, “Well, that’s fairly obvious.” 

“You know, God, for once I’m very glad to see you…  Because my life is completely unravelling.  I’m up to my eyeballs in the drama of the high school mating ritual and now, thanks to you, I’ve been mistaken as the high school chess champion.  How did this happen to me?”

“Which part?”

“How did I beat that kid at chess?”

“He was using logic.  You weren’t.  it’s impossible to guard against chaos.  It’s rare but it happens. Black’s move.”

“I don’t want to.” But even as she says this, she picks up her pawn and moves it.  “I don’t know how to play this game,” she says again.

“And yet you play the game.”

“Because I’m forced to!”

“Forced to!  Your friends make a suggestion which you follow up on and then you are surprised at the outcome!  It’s a causal universe.” He says as he moves his piece.   “Your move.”

“Wait a minute.  I’m being punished because I made a tiny little effort to fit in?”

“It’s not about punishment.  It’s that actions have consequences.  And to be in denial of that is to be disengaged from the laws of the universe which renders you powerless, and vulnerable to an inordinate amount of pain. Other than that, it’s no big deal. Move. ” Joan picks up a piece then puts it back down and reaches for another.

“Noooo,” God said.   “It’s a rule called touch move.  Once you’ve touched a piece you have to move that piece.”

“I’m not allowed to change my mind?  What kind of universe is that?”

“Oh, you can change your mind, but you still have to play that piece.  So you should think before you move.”

“Wait a minute.  This is a metaphor, right?”  She stares at the board for a few more minutes, mumbling under her breath and finally moves her piece.  “I took the bait so now I’m in the game.  How do I get out?”

“There are many ways to get out.  Surrender is one.  Losing is another.  Winning.  Cheating, which I don’t recommend.  But you have to do something.  You have to have a strategy.  You see, the number one rule of chess is this: whatever you do, don’t play the other person’s game.  Play your own.  Your move.”

-- 

Herod was playing the other person’s game.  Herod allowed the rules of a shame society to tell him that he had no choice but to have John the Baptist beheaded.  He played the other person’s game, and one man lost his life, and Herod lost his grounding.

I’m reminded of the movie “The Devil Wears Prada”.  The movie’s main character, Andi, starts as a person with goals and integrity.  She wants to be a journalist, and she has written about injustices such as poor work conditions.  She is in a committed relationship and values her time with her friends.  She enjoys her life, and has a cause or meaning, a purpose in her future.  Her values do not include shallow things like appearance, being thin, high fashion, owning expensive purses, clothing, things.  She puts work in its proper place as one aspect of who she is.  She is down-to-earth, centered, and knows where she is heading and what she wants.  When she first applies for the job as Assistant to the Director of Runway Magazine, she is appalled by the value system that surrounds her – the emphasis on accessories that make no real difference to one’s well-being, the insistence on being thin, on looking “right,” on dressing “right.”  But when she takes the job, she finds her values and her identity being slowly challenged, slowly and subtly being undermined and eroded.  She finds herself giving up more and more of her time with her friends and significant other in order to work.  She finds herself being pulled into the drama and the appeal of a fast-paced career with models and glamour and eventually into valuing the entire system of clothing and accessories and being thin and owning purses that cost thousands of dollars – all things she didn’t used to care about.  The choices she is faced with – to choose depth, meaning and relationships, or to choose appearance, glamour, fame and achievement are subtle choices, but she finds herself choosing for the latter again and again, and she finds herself saying to those who would challenge those choices, “well, I didn’t have a choice!” She chooses to do what her boss asks her to do, even when it means that she ends up deeply hurting a colleague who was becoming a friend.  And the entire time she is slipping she repeats that phrase, “I didn’t have a choice.”

What made her descent, her decline into a life that the movie, and I imagine many of us, would consider sinful so easy for her was that she didn’t realize she was playing by the rules of the other person.  Like Joan in the Joan of Arcadia episode, she kept saying to everyone, but especially herself, “I didn’t have a choice.” But that lie that she told herself, that she didn’t have a choice meant that she lost her friends, she lost her significant other, she lost her sense of self and her values.  As her boyfriend breaks up with her, she receives a phone call from her boss, and she says, “I’m sorry.  I have to answer this,” STILL not realizing she is making a choice.  As her boyfriend walks away he says to her, “You know, in case you were wondering?  The person whose calls you always take – that’s the relationship you’re in.”  Even after all of those losses she still didn’t realize the choices that she was making or that she had a choice to make, until her boss, Miranda, in the film pointed it out to her by comparing Andi’s choices with her own.  Andi could see that Miranda’s choices were hurtful, were harmful, were devastating.  But until Miranda pointed out that Andi had made the same choices, Andi couldn’t see. She could not see the choice she was making, or even THAT she was making a choice.

                In the movie, “You’ve Got Mail”  the main character’s book store has lost all kinds of business when a huge Barnes and Noble type store moves in across the street.  She tries everything to get her store to succeed, but it cannot compete against a Costco-like enterprise.  Finally she meets with her employees and says, “I’ve decided to close the store.”  Her dearest and longest employee responds, “closing the store is the brave thing to do!”  Meg Ryan’s character says, “What bull!”  To which Bertie responds, “It is!  You are envisioning a new future.  One you never expected and stepping into it boldly.”

               She did not have a choice about responding or not to the competition from across the street.  But she did have a choice about how she would respond.  And she made a choice that was her own game, her own step forward.  As sad as it made her, it also was a choice of hope.   

               As Dumbledore said in the Harry Potter series, “It is our choices that show who we are.  Not our abilities.”

I think about the stories I heard from a prisoner of seeing other prisoners saving food from their lunches and then calling the skunks. “Here, kitty, kitty!” they’d say and leave food for the skunks and other wildlife in the area.  They are in a situation over which they have very limited control, and certainly very few choices.  But this is a choice they can make: eat their food, or save it to share with the creatures around the prison.

Finally, I want to share with you one more movie story.  In the movie, Keeping the Faith, there is a wonderful conversation between a young priest and an older priest.  The young priest doubts his call into the priesthood after falling in love with a woman who is his friend.  Nothing happened between the two, but he found that the very fact of falling in love made him doubt a call that included celibacy.  He said to his older priest mentor, “If she had kissed me back, I would have given it all up.  She didn’t, but I keep thinking about what you said in the seminary that the life of a priest is hard and if you can see yourself doing anything else you should do that.”

The older priest responded, “Well that’s my recruitment speech which is good when you are starting out because it makes you feel like a marine!  But the truth is you can never tell yourself there is only one that you could be.  If you’re a priest or if you marry a woman, it is the same challenge.  You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it is a choice that you make again and again and again.  I’ve been a priest over 40 years, and I fall in love at least once every decade.”

The thing is, in every situation there are choices to be made. EVERY situation.  We choose how we see things, we choose how we act.  Sometimes we are making decisions between two terrible things.  Sometimes we are deciding between two wonderful things.  Sometimes it feels we don’t have a choice, but we still choose how we understand a situation, where we put our focus, whether we find gratitude or pain.  We choose whether we grow and learn, or whether we become bitter. And we choose whether we see God, whether we see the grace that is offered in every moment.  We choose whether or not to take the grace that is offered in each moment.  No matter how terrible a moment is, we still can choose to see the gift in having each breath we have to breathe.  In every single moment grace is offered.  But it is a choice we make whether we see it or not.  As Rick Warren said it, “I used to think that life was hills and valleys - you go through a dark time, then you go to the mountaintop, back and forth. I don't believe that anymore.   Rather than life being hills and valleys, I believe that it's kind of like two rails on a railroad track, and at all times you have something good and something bad in your life.   No matter how good things are in your life, there is always something bad that needs to be worked on. And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for. You can focus on your purposes, or you can focus on your problems:   If you focus on your problems, you're going into self-centeredness, which is my problem, my issues, my pain.' But one of the easiest ways to get rid of pain is to get your focus off yourself and onto God and others.”

Grace is offered to everyone in every moment.  But that doesn’t mean it is always easy to accept.  It also doesn’t mean that grace is always happy or even painless.  Sometimes the very breath we breathe is painful.  That grace, ruach, spirit, wind, breath that we are offered in each and every moment does not always come wrapped in a pretty package.  And sometimes that very breath itself is painful.   We know that sometimes wind becomes so strong it destroys things.  We know that sometimes the Spirit’s words to us are hard to take.  I think about at the end of Harry Potter, when the evil Voldemort was given a choice.  He could choose remorse, have his soul healed and live, or he could continue along his path of destruction that would lead to his ultimate destruction too.  He chose the latter because the pain of remorse was too much.  He chose to turn away from the Grace that was offered.  But that did not change the fact that it was being offered in that very moment.

In the story of Herod, we see that Herod’s inability to see his choices, to think beyond what he felt he had to do ended badly for John, and ultimately for Herod, too, who became obsessed with worrying that John’s ghost was haunting him.  He thought Jesus himself was John.  “But when Herod heard these rumors, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised to life.””.  But his inability to see did not mean that he did not have choice.  He could have pointed out to the girl that this request she made was really what her mother wanted and not what she, herself wanted.  He could have reasoned with her, talked to her.  After all, she was HIS daughter too.  But instead he felt bound by a blind, spur of the moment commitment he made.  And that feeling of being bound left him feeling impotent and blind to his choices.  He played her game, did not choose the grace of other options that were before him, and everyone suffered.

We have those same choices.  And my prayer is for us to see God’s grace, to choose God’s grace and to play the game the way God calls us to play it, for ourselves and for the world.  Amen.

Choices or "What will we do with the time that is given to us."

        In a sermon recently, I found myself quoting from Tolkein's Lord of the Rings one of my favorite passages: (p 51)
      "I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
       "So do I," said Gandalf, " and so do all who live to see such times.  But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."   
       This has been present in my mind as I have reflected on the pervasive sense of helplessness that many are feeling during this time.  I feel it, too.  There are things we cannot change about life at this moment.  We cannot change the virus, its progression, or how it will affect us or our loved ones if we get it.  We cannot change if we have lost our work because of this, or if we've kept our work but have to adjust how, when and in what way we do that work.  We cannot change who chooses to follow the rules and who does not, and how that might impact us.  The list goes on.  There are many, many aspects to this over which we have no control.
      When we feel this way, I think it is easy for us to end up reflecting on our pasts as well, looking at the curve, the arc of our lives and the many things throughout our lives over which we have had no control.  We can't change other people, as much as we would want to.  We cannot change how they react, how they treat us, what they say or what they do.  We cannot change the doors that have closed in our lives, the opportunities that we have missed, the unkindnesses or cruelties or injustices we have experienced.  We cannot even control things that we have had done in the past.  Once they are done, they are done, and we cannot go back and undo them.
      But I found myself thinking this morning that it is never the case that we therefore have no choices.  It is never the case that we have no agency in our own lives, no decisions, and no power.  There are things we can't control.  But there are always things we do have choices about.  Still, it remains the case that people often feel they have no choices, and are often unable to see the choices they do have.  I think about the movie, "The Devil Wears Prada."  The main character slips down a path of bad actions constantly throwing out the phrase, "I had no choice," but the choices were always hers to make.  Yes, if she chose differently she might have lost her job.  But is that the worst thing that could happen to a person?  To lose a job that you hate?  Of course, this was a movie.  And sometimes the choices we make have even worse consequences.  We could make a choice to stand up for what's right and end up facing abuse, imprisonment, or even death.  We could make a choice to be in a relationship that ends up being harmful to us, or to follow the advice of someone we think is wise and discover we would have been better off not to go that route.  But these are still choices we have, and choices we make.  I think about the scenario of someone holding a gun to a person's head and trying to force that person to do something.  Even in that scenario, there is a choice.  Do you do what the other is insisting that you do?  Or do you choose instead to be shot?  Do you whimper and plead for your life?  Or do you say, "there are things I value more than living and I will not choose to be forced into what you are telling me to do."  In those rare situations where we are physically being forced to do something, when we are being physically controlled and have no options over what our body is doing, there is still choice.  And this is the choice of our minds.  We choose, constantly, always, how we will deal in our own hearts, minds and souls, with the things over which we do not have control.  This includes any time we might have been physically forced to do something, but this also includes the behaviors, words and actions of other people.  We choose how we will respond to the feelings that rise in our own hearts, minds and souls.  We choose how we will frame the situations that occur in our lives.  Like Frodo, who did not choose for the ring to come to him, he had to choose what he would do with the evil before him.  And we have that same choice.  How will we deal with our situation?  How will we choose to see, to frame, and to understand the things that happen to us, that come our way?  How will we choose to understand our lives and to walk through the choices that we do have?
       Paul Pearsall writes about this in his book, The Beethoven Factor.  He says that people choose one of three responses to everything bad that happens to them in their lives.  They can choose to be victims, they can choose to be survivors, or they can choose to be thrivers: people who learn, grow and choose healing and health.  He is quick to say that choosing to be thrivers does not mean that you are always happy, or that you are never depressed, despairing or down.  What it does mean is that you choose to integrate into your life your experiences in a way that helps you to be the most whole that you can be, a person of agency, engagement, and ultimately, of peace within yourself.
      Corrie Ten Boom discussed this also, though she phrased it differently.  She said that after World War II, she worked as a nurse with many of the survivors of the Holocaust.  And what she found was that those who could work through and find forgiveness in their hearts for what they had experienced, that they were able to heal.  And, very simply, those who could not forgive, could never heal.  This doesn't mean that a person doesn't become angry, or even enraged.  I think rage can be the first step towards ultimate forgiveness: naming the hurt, naming the pain.  But if they could never choose then to walk through that anger to the other side, to a place of letting go of that hate or anger, they simply could not heal.  If they chose to stay a victim of their experiences, rather than a survivor or thriver, they would never be whole in their lives.
       Twelve step programs in many ways reflect both of these ideas.  When you look at the twelve steps, they are almost completely focused on self-reflection and on naming one's piece in whatever traumas one has experienced.  They focus on naming our own faults, confessing them, making amends for them to the very best of our abilities, and then trusting God's forgiveness to heal us. The twelve steps begin with the recognition of powerlessness over whatever addiction a person is dealing with.  They recognize where a person has no control, but they then move into a place of claiming the power one does have: to self-reflect and to change one's understanding, viewpoint, vision and choices in this life.
      I'm not saying that claiming our own power, or even recognizing our own power is easy. I'm also not saying that we have total control in our lives.  As I said, there are many things over which we do not have control.  What I am saying is that we do have some agency, some choice in how we will deal with the times we have been given.  And my hope for us all is that we would choose to be thrivers, people who see the choices we have, claim the choices we have, and choose love, compassion, courage and justice in the face of whatever is happening in our lives.
     Right now we are struggling with those things over which we have no control: the virus, the changes in our lives and culture.  But I encourage you to have a bigger vision of what we can control, how we can walk through this time with grace and courage.  Where are your options?  And what will you choose to do with this time that has been given to you?

Some times are just like that... AND the bigger picture

        This has been a challenging month. David remains out of work, which, though he doesn't live with us, means finances for all of us are extremely tight; Eldest has left for college, which is both financially and emotionally very taxing; David moved out of his apartment (both because lease is up and also because he can't pay rent without an income) so we moved his stuff to my house and he is staying with my parents - a strain for all involved; we had a flea infestation which meant daily vacuuming the entire house including the furniture as well as combing cats daily, using sprays, chemicals, washing sheets, etc; the cats dealt with it by also peeing inappropriately on my stuff (like my computer bag with computer and papers inside of it, as well as the air purifier - go figure); then this was followed by a pantry fly issue, which involved more cleaning, bagging, spraying; the dishwasher died; the air conditioner/heater completely broke beyond repair (a 10K cost to replace); the car is having issues; I spent hours and hours standing in lines to get my kids the things they needed to start school and get Middle his driving permit; work has been very demanding lately while these other time-consuming things have been going on; and the air has been filled with smoke for a long time now, which has caused illness over here and the kids have missed school days because of being so sick.  These are only the big and hard things.  Other stressors are also abundant as we try to plan a wedding (good thing, but stressful), as my other two kids begin a new school year and are trying to adjust to one less person in the house, as well as the daily annoyances that fill each day. It's been a challenging time. I know some times are just like this. Stuff happens and we just have to deal with it. Sometimes a lot of big stressors all come at once. There are times when even the good things still bring additional stressors to all of us.
         But in the midst of all of this I've found myself truly feeling how blessed, how lucky, how privileged and how loved we all are.  I think it is easy to focus on what is wrong.  For one thing, sharing our troubles can help us connect with other people, can deepen friendships as we open up about the feelings that may not be as attractive or as public.  Also, if we give time and attention to the things that are difficulties, we can often (usually) find the resources to deal with them. So I understand the inclination to dwell on what is hard.  But again, I've found myself really reflecting a great deal of late on what is so good in my life in the midst of all of this.
        I have three amazing children and an incredible partner.  While David being out of work has been a challenge financially, in other ways it has been a real gift because he's been available to help more with kids, and with just being present.  I've needed that, especially as I've dealt with all of the other things going on.  Eldest is doing her best to stick it out at college as well as to stay connected.  I'm immensely proud of her.  My youngest daughter entertains me on a regular basis with her creative and funny additions to the house:

And my son blew me away the other day by telling me he thought I was an awesome mom.  That came out of nowhere.  My son, who has come with so many challenges of his own, is becoming this unbelievably mature, caring, committed, hard-working young man right before my eyes.  For my 15 year old boy to tell me he appreciated me and to choose to come give me a hug... well, I thought I must have entered heaven, which, in a way, I did, at that moment.
          My church and family have been amazingly generous during this time of stress: the men's group buying me a new dishwasher and installing it, as well as just expressing care and love and support in so many ways, as well as the constant care of my extended family.
          But the biggest gift I've been able to appreciate lately is the realization of what time, growth, and previous hard times have given me. They've given me a deep appreciation and awareness of how quickly things change, how the hard times pass, and that things really do continue to move forward. They also remind me to keep looking for the good, for Love, for God, in every moment.  I'm getting better at remembering that. The fact that I can keep walking through, facing each new challenge and still feel happy, content, at peace, has been an amazing gift for me.  I'm not the same as I was ten years ago: and that awareness of inner change and growth, amidst continuity, is a deep gift.
          I choose to be a person who sees the good.  I choose that for my kids, for my church community.  I choose to be a person who walks in gratitude and with a vision for what is beautiful.  I choose to respond with compassion in the face of unkindness, and with grace in the face of evil.  I can't do that for myself, as much as I want to; but I can do that for my kids and my faith community.  Even so, those choices are hard to make.  But I am learning that practice is a really good teacher and that staying in grace and in light becomes easier each time I choose it.  So I am also learning to see the hard times as the true gifts they are: they are opportunities to practice being the person I want to be.  They are chances offering me the choice to respond each time to each crisis in a better way.  I can't learn without the stressors that push on that learning.  So I am grateful for this last month, and for the gifts that come from walking in a path of growth and learning.
        Thanks be to God!

Commitment to Kindness?

        I feel that my commitment to my personal Lenten discipline of looking for and acting with kindness has been sorely tested as of late.  This last week has included one event after another of interacting in unpleasant ways with other people.
         A couple of examples: I was walking through the grocery store parking lot and one of those monster trucks with the 6 foot radius wheels was pulling out of a parking spot.  I was far behind him, as far as I could go actually, walking against the parked cars on the other side, but of course, he could not see me because of the huge height of his cab.  I wasn't concerned about being hit: if he hit me, he would have hit the cars I was walking next to as well.  None the less, when he started to pull forward he did see me, after which he blocked me in at my car and scolded me for walking behind his truck.  I'll admit, all kinds of unkind, angry responses were running through my head, everything from, "Well, maybe you should rethink having a truck with such huge tires that you can't see well enough to drive!" to "It isn't other people's responsibility to help you see.  If you can't see well enough to pull out of a spot, don't park there in the first place."  Instead, at the point at which he said, "because if I were to hit you I'd be libel!" I responded with the really stupid, not kind, non-nonsensical response of, "well, if you hit me, I'd be dead and wouldn't really care anymore if you were libel."  I wasn't able to respond with kindness. I couldn't think of a kind thing to say at the time that wasn't angry or snippy.  I didn't like being scolded by a stranger, I felt I was in the right, I was already fighting some inner prejudice I admit I have against people who drive trucks with unnecessarily huge wheels, and I just wanted to be out of the situation. So I responded with a stupid, snippy response and moved on.
       Second example: I came home after a long, hard day at work today dealing with other conflicted issues and was exhausted.  I haven't been sleeping well because I've been worried about a large number of things lately, both personal and professional.  So I was also tired from lack of sleep.  I realized I could lie down for about 15 minutes before making dinner, taking the kids to dance and heading back to church for two meetings this evening, and so I made my way to the couch.  I had just fallen asleep when the door bell rang.  It didn't ring just once, but three times and then the loud knocking began.  I hauled myself out of my sleep and headed towards the door.  "Hi, I'm from x company and we are selling y.  I hope I am not disturbing you..."  Again, an opportunity to practice being kind.  After all, that's my Lenten discipline, right?  But I couldn't do it.  "Actually, you are disturbing me.  I was trying to take a nap, I need to help my kids with their homework, and I do not have time for this conversation.  I'm sorry, but goodbye."  And I shut the door.  Of course, going back to sleep was out of the question. Instead, I stared into space for the last ten minutes because I couldn't get out of my head that it was another opportunity for kindness and another fail on my part. 
       I am gifted, every day, with opportunities to put into practice what I claim I want to do, to try to be the person I want to be.  I see these situations as the chances that they are.  But these interactions (as well as others I've had this week) have shown me that it is not enough to just say I want to do something. I have to prepare. I have to actually think through what might be kind responses in difficult situations, what might be ways to diffuse an angry encounter. "I hear you are upset. I am sorry if I have contributed to upsetting you,"  "Thank you for that advice. I will think about that. I hope the rest of your day goes better."  "I realize you have the difficult job of being a door to door sales-person, so to save you time in the future, I'm telling you now that we are not going to buy from anyone coming to our door. But I wish you the best of luck."
          I realize I won't be able to prepare for every potential situation because I don't know what they all are.  But I can prepare somewhat by thinking of positive ways to interact with difficult people, by reflecting back on situations that I have not handled well, and I can strive to try to adapt thought -through responses when those situations arise.
        I've used this story in sermons before: One day a woman hopped in a taxi and they took off for the airport. They were driving in the right lane when suddenly a red car jumped out of a parking space right in front of them. The taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at them. The taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. The passenger asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' The taxi driver said that many people were like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment.  As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. "Don't take it personally," he said.  "Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. Do not let garbage trucks take over your day."
       It's a great story.  But again, I think it takes more than simply a commitment to behaving with kindness and grace.  It also requires practice.  So I will continue to look for the good around me.  And I will also look for the opportunities to practice kindness in the face of anger, rudeness, and other "garbage."  I saw the look of disappointment on the face of the salesman today.  And while it was too bad my nap was disturbed, I also don't ever want to be the one responsible for making someone else's day worse.  That's a choice I can try to make, each time there is an opportunity to choose between reactive anger or kindness.

More on Rage

Two more rage incidents encountered, or rather experienced, yesterday.

The first one, I was driving on Clayton Road which is a pretty fast 6 lane road.  All cars were driving at about 45 miles an hour but the light ahead of us changed to yellow, so, I slowed down and stopped at the line right after the light turned red.  The car behind me, though, wanted nothing to do with stopping and so honked crazily, swerved into the lane next to me and ran a completely red light while cussing me out the whole way.  Ironically, he then had to stop about 20 feet ahead of me behind other cars that were stopped at the next red light, meaning that I had to pull up next to this crazy, screaming man.  I don't know what he gained by running through a red light.  I do know he almost hit a pedestrian who had started to cross the street once the light changed to red.  I don't know what he gained through being so angry, but, again, I don't know what he was going through that day, that week, that month or that year.  Maybe he just needed a place to yell and I was a convenient target.  I do know that he added an edge to my morning, one I didn't need.  It won't change my behavior.  I still won't run red lights.  I don't really think we need to be in that big of a hurry that we risk other people's lives (like the pedestrian).  But I found myself wondering again about what good his rage did.

Then last night I was driving my daughter to dance.  I have to go through a parking lot and I am always pretty slow about doing that, recognizing the 10mph parking lot law and being aware that people cross wherever they want and you have to be careful.  None the less, a teenager wearing all black (and this was after nightfall) was sauntering across the parking lot without regard for anyone else.  I stopped in plenty of time - about 12 feet behind where she was crossing.  None the less, her mother, who was several feet behind her, started screaming her head off at me about ...well, actually, I don't know what she was screaming about, since I couldn't hear her.   I reacted the way any normal human being would.. knowing she couldn't hear me I immediately started using Sign Language and signing at her to "wait" and "stop" yelling at me.  Well, okay, maybe most human beings don't actually know sign language, and that wouldn't be their first reaction.  But it was mine.  For some reason this caused her to just scream more.  It was only later that I realized that the sign for "wait" could look like that "WHAT THE HECK?!" sign that many people give when they think you are doing something wrong.  So she may have misinterpreted my meaning.  Still, I don't actually know what prompted her initial rage.  I had another adult in the car and I asked both him and Eldest, "Did I make an error here?  Because I'm confused about why she is screaming at me."  Both of them said, "No".  I was driving slowly.  I stopped way back from where she was.  There was no reason for this outrage on this woman's part.

And yet, there it was.

I admit, I probably am affected too much by other people's rage heading my direction.  But I couldn't shake the painful, negative feelings for a while. And I wondered, again, about the purpose, the helpfulness, the goodness of rage.  What is the point?  Will her rage change my behavior at all?  No. I will still drive slowly through parking lots. I will still do my best not to hit anyone. Did her rage make her feel better?  I doubt it.  The times I feel rageful I just feel sick afterwards, not better.  When people reflect on their anger, I know they sometimes feel guilty, too, for attacking someone else who may not have deserved the outrage at all.  She might not be self-reflective enough to feel guilt, but either way, what could that expression of rage at a total stranger really do for her or for me or for the other passengers in my car?  Her daughter remained oblivious (which again shows how far away I actually stopped), so she wasn't affected.  But I can't help but wonder what kind of good these expressions of rage do.
 For anyone.
 Ever.

We have become a society that is so filled with anger that frankly, I don't know why we are surprised by all these mass shootings.  People become angry at the drop of a hat, they feel justified in their rage, and they act it out, sometimes in these extremely violent ways.  At what point is this not okay? Obviously shooting people is not okay.  What about yelling at someone else?  What about the rageful behavior we seem to see on a daily basis in our communities?  We seem to be okay with this behavior, and yet (not to go biblical on everyone but I am a pastor, after all), Jesus said, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be in danger of judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be in danger of judgment." (Matthew 5:21-22).  To translate this more simply, even getting rageful at another is harmful. Period. PERIOD.  And the raging behavior is a behavior that will be seen, will be noticed, and you will be understood and judged for it (not by God.  My God has a lot more understanding and compassion.  But other people will see and judge you).

We are told we will be known by our love.  Do we demonstrate this consistently, or do we fly into rages that tell a different tale, not one of love, but one of intolerance, self-centeredness, lack of compassion and condemnation?  Our rage speaks volumes about who we are, about what we think, about what we really are at our core.  And if left unchecked, it will escalate into violence.  Let me say that again.  Rage, left unchecked, left undealt with, WILL turn into violence.  It starts with verbal violence and it becomes something more.  Either way it is violent.  Either way it is an assault.  Either way it is damaging.

Once again, I say, we have to be conscious of what we want to leave here with our time in this place. Do we choose to leave hatred and rage?  Do we truly want our legacy to be one of upsetting others, of hurting others, of damaging others?  Or do we want our legacy to be one of love, of peace, of compassion?  We choose who and what we want to be in this world.  We choose how we will be remembered and what we contribute to this world.  We choose the big picture of our time on this planet.

For me, I pray every day to leave more love and peace.  In the face of others' rage, sometimes this is a challenge.  And yet, closing my eyes and re-centering, taking a breath of peace, choosing to return love and peace for rage and hatred - these are choices I can make.  These are choices we all can make.  Each day.  Each hour.  Each moment we are given the opportunity to choose how we respond.