Category: Daily Life

Last week I witnessed the most feisty exchange…

A middle-aged man pulled his pickup truck into the nearest Publix parking spot. There was nothing unusual nor outstanding about the guidance of his vehicle. He was somewhat close to the gold sedan to his left, although the proximity had zero to do with driver error; the car to his right was hugging the line, so-to-speak, and there was simply minimal space with which to maneuver his vehicle. 

The driver of the gold sedan had exited the grocery and was entering his car as the pickup driver came to a halt. He was an older gentleman, and noticing the pickup driver’s closeness, he paused all movement. In fact, he reversed his perceived intention — stopped getting into his car, got totally out, and shut his door. The gold sedan owner awaited confrontation with the pickup driver.

As the pickup driver got out of his car, the older man approached him…

“You know, my wife was almost hit here twice last week.”

The pickup driver — who seemed nothing short of surprised that this stranger would engage — humbly responded, seemingly desiring to honor his elders… 

“Excuse me?”

To which the sedan driver repeated his concern, only more animatedly and adamantly…

“My wife was almost hit here twice last week! Two people almost hit her!”

He was angry… most likely, no doubt, sincerely angry.

I have to applaud the younger man’s reaction. He paused… stayed present… listened to the man’s concern… even affirmed his concern… and before walking away, he wished the older man well.

The older man never calmed down. It also did not rattle the younger.

I’ve thought of this each day since…

The older man was mad — his wife had almost been hurt.

The younger man parked nearby — but he did nothing wrong nor intentionally offensive.

But the younger man was closest…

… closest…

And so the older man reacted by taking his anger out upon the one who was closest.

Obviously, it was not the younger man’s fault that the older man’s wife had been endangered in the week prior. 

Obviously, the older man had reason to be concerned.

But in our concern, how often do we take it out on the person who is closest?

How often do we let our emotions fly not necessarily on the one who is responsible? … but rather on the one who is easiest to rail upon?

And the hardest question today… that I ask with all humble sincerity…

How often is that me?

How often am I the older man?

Respectfully…

AR

It’s true. I can be a bit of a nerd. 

Please… don’t agree so fast. 

Maybe it’s better said that I’m always a student… always learning… always attempting to figure life out. In fact, one of my bottom lines in life is that none of us have life all figured out this side of heaven; in fact, we are each — frankly — incapable. Hence, may all of us, always, be learning and growing — and have at least a little nerd within us.

One of my favorite, nerdier-perceived pursuits is my decades long study of the Greek. No doubt — no where close — I am no expert… although I would at least stand a chance if “Jeopardy’s ‘Daily Double’” fell in the convenient category of “Ancient Greek Roots” (… true, “NFL Superstars” would serve me far better).

Last week, no less, in my pursuit of knowledge, I uncovered a fascinating find… one that made me stop, reflect, and contemplate what current culture has captured and missed…

I was diving into this idea of how we are to treat one another — and specifically, the appeal of “bearing with one another in love.”

We all get the love idea… not that we’re always good at it. In fact…

We tend to be selective or withhold it or somehow justify why loving a certain other well isn’t necessary nor right. I’ll be honest; that practice doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, I get it… we get angry or hurt or feel wronged — and maybe it really is all the other person’s fault. But the failure to love well typically only hurts the withholder, as unfortunately, bitterness tends to then swell so swiftly on the inside. I don’t wish to live with a bitterness that burns primarily on the inside. I wish to learn and grow.

So “bearing with”… that’s the key action point here…

What does it mean? … to bear with one another in love?

Check out the Greek, friends…

Straight from the Greek, written at least a couple thousand years ago:

ἀνέχω…. (transliteration: anechō; pronunciation: ä-ne’-khō)

Look what’s in the meaning:

To sustain, to bear with, endure, with a genitive of the person (in Greek writings the accusative is more common, both of the person and of the thing), of his opinions, actions, etc.

Do you see what I see?

Do you see what’s seemingly so profound and countercultural?

… and has been around for centuries??

In the historic encouragement to bear with one another in love, there is an appeal to endure not only the person but also their opinions.

Granted, opinions can be stated without adding “you idiot” at the end of the sentence. But what’s key here is that if we are going love other people well, we are also going to be accepting of different opinion.

I’m thinking this isn’t going out on too much of a limb here… but in at least on our social media behavior, we have much to learn.

Respectfully…

AR

I did it again. 

Can you believe it?! 

And it was on the way to church… to church — for goodness sakes!!

The light had turned green, and yet the Rogue driver in front of me didn’t move…

… one Mississippi… two Mississippi…

HONK!

Ok, it really wasn’t that loud; it was more like a “honk” — much lighter, if you will.

And then I realized it. There are four types of “honkers” in current culture…

First, the “I Will Never” Honker…

… No matter what, no matter how egregious the error on another’s behalf — even if they are totally in the wrong and thinking crazily, irrationally, and all of the above — I will not… I refuse — not… I will never honk my horn to bring attention to you… I just couldn’t do that to another…

Second — (yes, moi) — the “Tap, Tap” Honker…

… I really don’t want to… I don’t want to honk my horn at you. I want to treat you well and respect you, but the reality is that you’re not acting wisely. You need to move or do something different. Hence, I will lightly tap on my horn, letting you know I’ve noticed, but I have no desire to embarrass, shame, or disrespect you…

Next, the “Less-Than-Half-a-Second” Honker…

… Oh, my… I have no time for this. You are inconveniencing me so much… you are a freaking menace to society! Don’t you realize it? MOVE! And move now! Geesh…

And lastly, the “Flip-You-Off-While-You’re-at-It” Honker…

… Not only are you a frickin’ menace to society, but you shouldn’t even exist! Get the $#!%&! out of here! You are a disgrace to the human race. You shouldn’t have ever been born!.. 

[Pause… deep breath…]

So question…

Which of the above “honkers” will make an effective difference on another’s journey?

Which of the above “honkers” makes you want to be a little more like them?

As one witty, recent meme suggested: “FYI: If you beep your horn 0.3 seconds after the light changes green, I will shut off my car, lay on the hood, and feed birds for an hour.”

In other words, honking at people more often than not, doesn’t produce the kind of change we say we believe in; it doesn’t make people act more like we desire; it doesn’t make them want to be more like us. They might move in the moment, so-to-speak, but lasting change is typically not a result of demonstrative honking.

So where do we need to change how we let another know of their perceived error in judgment? … an error that inconveniences us or is in our way somehow? What if it’s ridiculous, even foolish behavior?

Great questions. 

Maybe we should spend more time asking and listening as opposed to finding louder ways to honk our horn.

Respectfully…

AR

Seriously.

What if it’s me?

What if I’ve always said to love my neighbor as myself but then I intentionally choose some not to love? 

What if I’ve announced my pursuit of the truth and nothing but the truth and then justify why it’s ok to promote falsehoods or fake news?

What if I say “let’s all be tolerant” but then choose to denounce the person who’s intolerant?

What if I vow to respect all life but then prioritize some lives over others?

What if?

What — dare I ask — what if that’s me?

The origin of the word “hypocrite” comes from the Greek word, “hypokritḗs.” The word was commonly used to describe actors on the stage, derived from the words “hypó” — which means “under” — and krínō — which means “judge.”

Hence, by definition, the masculine noun equates to “properly, a judging under, like a performer acting under a mask (i.e. a theater-actor), or (figuratively) a two-faced person; a ‘hypocrite,’ whose profession does not match their practice — i.e. someone who “says one thing but does another.”

I’ll be honest. I don’t hate a lot of things. In fact, I have taught my children that the only things worthy of hatred are, as best discernible, what we know God hates (i.e. haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that are swift to run to evil, a false witness who pours out lies, and a person who spreads discord among family).

But sometimes I hate hypocrisy.

I arguably hate it most when I see it in me.

Sometimes, friends, I have said one thing, but done another. Sometimes, I have failed to love another well. Sometimes I’ve been inconsistent. And sometimes I have done something, believed something, or said something contrary to what I say I would think, say, or do.

Dr. Robert Kurzban, an associate professor at the University of Pennsylvania, published a fascinating piece in 2011, aptly titled: “Why Everyone (Else) Is a Hypocrite.” He says:

“The book is really about human nature. It’s about contradictions in human nature. It’s how we can believe two things simultaneously which are mutually contradictory…

I think the way to understand this is to use the example of the smart phone. So the reason that today’s smart phones are so smart is not because they have one killer app; they’re smart because they have a lot of different applications — all of which have really narrow functions — and these functions are bundled together in a phone that allows you to do lots of different things. 

What I argue in the book is that a human mind is very similar to a smart phone. Mechanisms that are designed to do things like cause you to eat good foods and cause you to seek mates and do all the different things that humans do that you can think of, [are each] applications. And the crucial thing about these applications is that because they are simultaneously running in the same head — and they have different jobs — and they’re isolated from each other — often times they can have mutually contradictory information; they can contain contradictions. And by understanding these mechanisms and how they work and how they operate simultaneously — often, without our awareness — we have a much deeper understanding of human nature.”

And so as much as possible, I try to say what I mean and mean what I say. I desire to practice what I preach, so-to-speak. But my sense is that sometimes, I contradict myself. Sometimes I’m not as moral as I think I am. Sometimes, I am actually the hypocrite.

That’s a very humbling reality… and one that prompts me to examine the need to give much more grace to everyone else. 

Imagine… 

… giving more grace to everyone else…

Respectfully…

AR

We’ve long heard much in regard to what’s the hardest thing to do…

“I’ve always said that hitting a baseball is the hardest thing to do in sports,” said the great Ted Williams.

“I think the hardest thing to do in the world, show-business-wise, is write comedy,” said the comedic genius, Carol Burnett.

“Stillness. That’s all and that’s the hardest thing,” said the talented Morgan Freeman.

“The hardest thing with musicians is getting them not to play,” said the iconic pop star, Prince.

And from the often articulate Adlai E. Stevenson, “I am now seasoned enough to have learned that the hardest thing about any political campaign is how to win without proving that you are unworthy of winning.”

So much truth and perspective in each of the above, individualized arenas. What still seems hardest for us all?

“To change,” said Mickey Rourke.

“To trust people,” said Dwight Howard.

“Being humble and sweet,” said Jemima Kirke.

“Losing weight,” said Aretha Franklin.

“Losing someone you love,” “forgiveness,” and “asking for forgiveness,” still say many.

I wonder, as we watch people continue to forsake respecting all in all arenas, if the hardest thing to do has less to do with any of the above — hard as each admittedly can be — but more to do with a singular body part.

It seems, my friends, we are consistently, inconsistently awful at taming the tongue.

I speak not of vulgarity; after all, truthfully, sometimes there’s just something incredibly funny about the limited-use-yet-perfectly-timed, creative cuss word. 

I speak instead of the words meant to demean, degrade, or disrespect. While a word out of our mouths can accomplish nearly anything, it can also destroy it.

Maybe we say destructive words flippantly. Maybe they are a knee-jerk reaction. Maybe we put them on social media for all the world to see.

Maybe we don’t actually say the words, but we’re totally ok and egging it on if the words come out of the mouth of someone else. Maybe we’re inconsistent in believing disparaging words are ok, pending who actually says them.

Maybe it depends on who the words are said about — from a sitting senator to a press secretary, as we’ve sadly, recently observed.

Maybe, just maybe, each of us, well, we’re entirely inconsistent. We justify degrading someone.

I read once — ok, maybe twice (or truthfully way, way more) — how if we could find someone whose speech was perfectly true, we’d have a perfect person, in perfect control of life. No one can tame a tongue. 

Hence, I walk away, still wondering with two thoughts…

One, we only hurt ourselves and our credibility when we’re lured into believing that cursing and blessing can come out of the same mouth…

And two, as adults hailing from all sorts of both individual and collective arenas, each of us has areas in which to grow.

Respectfully…

AR

Sometimes the most profound moments come from the simplest conversations. I go back to one Friday night, a few years back, when I stopped in to see a friend tending bar at a casual hangout. 

We sat and talked for a few hours… always good… at the end of this day, the end of the week. There was a TV nearby. On it appeared yet another celebrity getting attention for a personal choice — and as oft consistent with our not-so-united society, the attention was prominent, but not necessarily prominently positive. All sorts of people possessing all sorts of perspectives felt welcome chiming in on his choice.

So as one who truly wishes to welcome and consider all perspective — and no doubt, I, too, am a work in progress — I asked my dear, articulate, especially frank friend, Bobby, his thoughts.

Simpler than I imagined, Bobby looked at me, paused from his professional routine, and merely said, not really to me, “You know, I think you need to be the best you — and I need to be the best me.”

He was not speaking to “me,” of course. He was identifying how each of us looks at other people — and why we each feel welcome to generously weigh in with our perspectives, varied as they may be… condoning or condemning, also as they may be.

We look at other people…

And when they are different from us, we justify the condemnation…

Maybe we criticize and condemn because they look differently.

Maybe we criticize and condemn because they act differently.

Or maybe we’re ok with how one looks or acts, but we criticize and condemn because they think differently.

One of my recent (but still all time) favorite movies is “The Greatest Showman,” released last winter starring Hugh Jackman, Zac Ephron, Michelle Williams, and Zendaya (… it’s ok if you didn’t like it; for this former show choir parent, “this is me”…).

Within exists an iconic song, nominated for an Academy Award…

“This Is Me.” It’s great for multiple reasons…

For some, as dubbed by Variety Magazine, it is “an anthem for outcasts.” Led by the Bearded Lady — after being shunned by the show’s visionary (Jackman) — the cast of human “oddities” finds their voice and their pride, marching through the streets, refusing to feel as something lesser.

Described by song co-writer Justin Paul, “She (the Bearded Lady) then finds her own sense of power and pride. It’s the moment where they realize, ‘We are who we are, and we’re going to own our own identity.’”

Note she is owning who she is… comparing herself to no one else… being the “best me,” subject to the judgment of no other.

Says the song:

“… When the sharpest words wanna cut me down

I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out

I am brave, I am bruised

I am who I’m meant to be, this is me

Look out ’cause here I come

And I’m marching on to the beat I drum

I’m not scared to be seen

I make no apologies, this is me.”

Yes, there are areas in which each of us is foolish — each of us needs to grow — all of us. God is no doubt, not finished with us yet. 

But sometimes the growth would be faster if we could grow in absence of judgment from anyone else.

Respectfully…

AR