Treat other people exactly as you would like to be treated by them—this is the essence of all true religion. [Matthew 7:12 (PHLLIPS)]
Once upon a time, a father gave his daughter a painted turtle. One morning, she ran to her father in tears and sobbed, “My turtle died!” Wanting to bring a smile back to his little girl’s face, Dad promised the reptile a lovely funeral after which he’d take her to their favorite fast-food spot for a happy meal and toy. When that did nothing to stop the flow of tears, he upped the ante by proposing to follow lunch with the latest Disney princess movie. As the sobbing slowed, he then promised they’d stop at the mall where she could ride on the merry-go-round and Ferris wheel. With only a few whimpers remaining, Dad topped off his offer with a promise to stop on the way home for a double scoop ice cream cone. Thrilled to finally see a smile on his daughter’s face, the relieved father reached into the tank to remove the dead turtle only to discover that it was alive and well and just had been enjoying a turtle nap. When he joyfully reported, “He’s not dead!” the disappointed girl’s response was, “Then can we kill it?”
Kids are naturally selfish and self-centered—just watch toddlers play and notice how often you hear the words “mine” and “gimme.” Children are self-absorbed little creatures, but so are adults—we’re just a bit more civilized in our selfishness. We may not grab, hit, or throw temper tantrums, but we still tend to put ourselves and our wants first. Since that unfortunate day in Eden, mankind has shown a preference for self-interest. We typically see the world only from our viewpoint rather than that of others or, more important, with the eyes of Jesus.
As members of the body of Christ, it is the lives of others that are to concern us. We are advised to share in both the joy and sorrow of our brothers and sisters. Sometimes, however, it seems easier to share in other people’s sorrow than in their joy. Just as the turtle’s fortuitous awakening meant the little girl lost her afternoon of fun, it’s rarely easy to rejoice in other people’s good fortune when we don’t share in it. Jealously, envy and resentment can rear their ugly heads. It’s especially difficult to rejoice when another person got the job we wanted, someone else’s child got the award, another person won the match, a co-worker got the praise or raise, or a friend heard the word “benign” when we heard the words “malignant” or “inoperable.” Nevertheless, regardless of our situations, other people’s good news should always be a reason for our joy.
“Genuine krab meat” isn’t truly crab; it’s an assortment of fish that has been skinned, boned, minced, and rinsed before being formed into the paste known as surimi. Fillers, flavor and color are added and the mixture is shaped into chunks or tubes and cut into blocks or sticks and cooked. Once cut up, it may look like a bit like the real thing, but there is nothing genuine about it. We’re called to love genuinely, even if it means we might have to skip the happy meal, movie, and ice cream. Let there be no imitation Christian love around here—it’s as tasteless and disagreeable to God as imitation crab.
When writing about the Good Samaritan yesterday, I recalled being asked who represents Jesus in the parable. The most obvious answer appears to be the Samaritan. After all, love that unlimited and sacrificial had to have been supernatural. The parallels are somewhat obvious—both men were merciful, compassionate, paid another man’s debt, promised to return, and were despised and rejected by the Jews. In fact, early commentators like Irenaeus, Clement, Augustine, and Origen found all sorts of allegorical meaning in the story with the injured man representing Adam, the bandits Satan, the loss of clothing as man’s loss of innocence, the wine given the man as Christ’s atoning blood, the inn as the Church, the innkeeper as Paul (or the Pope), and the two coins given to the innkeeper as the Law and the Prophets or the two testaments. While some of Jesus’ parables (like the Sower and the Soils, the Wheat and the Weeds, and the Evil Tenants) clearly are allegories, other are not.
Operating on a salvation by works mentality, the lawyer/expert in Mosaic law asked what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. When Jesus asked what the law said, the man cited Deuteronomy 6:5, about total devotion to God, and Leviticus 19:18, about loving his neighbor as himself. When Jesus told him, “Do this, and you will live,” the man realized that perfect obedience to loving everyone wasn’t possible. Hoping to limit the commandment to something more attainable, he searched for a loophole and asked, “Who is my neighbor?” Perhaps he was thinking of the words found in the book of Sirach (a collection of moral counsel and maxims well known in Jesus’ time), “If you do a kindness, know to whom you do it, and you will be thanked for your good deeds. … Give to the godly man, but do not help the sinner.” [12:1,4] These words reflected the prevailing view of the time that kindheartedness and aid were mainly for family, friends, or a righteous deserving person, but certainly not to one’s enemies.
The book of Nehemiah opens with Nehemiah’s distress at learning that Jerusalem’s walls remained in shambles even though decades had passed since the first Jewish exiles returned to the city. Broken walls and no gates meant Jerusalem (and the Temple) were defenseless against enemies and wild animals. Just as a city is defenseless against its enemies’ attacks, a person without self-control is defenseless against the Satan’s attacks.
There is a funny scene in the movie When Harry Met Sally when, in the middle of a delicatessen, Sally proves to Harry that women can successfully fake being in the throes of passion. After a rather loud and vivid demonstration, Sally calmly returns to her meal. After watching Sally’s display of ecstasy, an older woman tells her waiter, “I’ll have what she’s having!” While it may be possible to fool people about a number of things, we can’t fool God. He looks beyond appearances right into our hearts.
Devotions of the Heart 