A Home Run of Kindness: V2 B3 C5

Tags

christmas, kindness, perception

Victimized Cosette alone in the dark woods is swiftly rescued by the all-powerful hand of kindness.

Story book examples of the hero stepping in to save the damsel from the villian make up the basis of the hopes and dreams written on our hearts. The stories we love just take the paradigm and perhaps reassign the roles. The “miracle” of Christmas is the simple and fundamental truth that resonates so perfectly and leads us to create more stories with our minds and hearts and words and hands. We make His praise glorious when we work in concert with this truth, even when we say we don’t know Him.

Sometimes the ideal examples such as that found here in Chapter 5, or those I hear of in sermons, can discourage me. Such perfect, effective kindness is uncommon to my perception, and my attempts to love rescue someone can seem more like strikeouts than homers. So I want to hear that I am OK in the strikeouts because I am standing at the plate swinging. And, that my perception of the success of my efforts is usually highly distorted.

Yesterday I received a letter from a man thanking me for being a good leader and making it possible for him to finish his career by enjoying his work. It was a surprise, even a shock for me since I perceived the perception of my efforts might be that they were shallow and full of pretense. But it turns out that the perception was not that at all. People may not react like I hope for when I show kindness. They may even carry away the candlesticks and continue in their criminal attitude like JVJ. But as imperfect as my attempts may be (even shaded by pride and pretense) they are more effective than I perceive, and seeing the few instances that are actually revealed to me, I imagine that my my batting average is higher than I perceive.

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Resolved at Last: V1 B8 C5

And so it is complete. The direction of JVJ’s life is settled. He now is resolved upon his chosen purpose. And, he has revealed by his actions that his confession was a mere rescue of the helpless Champmathieu, rather than a surrender. Although in the aftermath of the Arras trial, he was passive and resigned to a life in prison, the death of Fanzine was the turning point for him, when he committed to her to be the guardian and father of her precious Cosette. Now he will use his own force to escape Javert and the law, driven by moral resolve on behalf of Cossette. The conflict is really over here for JVJ. The novel becomes settled as to his internal struggles and his ascent to superhero status has resumed. His life of service is settled, and he now commits himself to that one goal.

I am strongly attracted to such a reality for its dream value. To sit in the presence of God, unhurried and committed, without the chosen busy-ness and cares of the worldly surface-life. To really love is to not be distracted. To love God, or to love another human. And “love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing” compared to a dream, and I imagine that Jean also endured loneliness and boredom as he played the parent. Teach me to sit and dream and love.

My child will play in the garden: V1 B8 C2

These words are the prayer of this mother which would indeed be heard and answered. Innocent Fantine, a teenage unwed mother now dying in her twenties, totally at the mercy of God, with naive visions of good and evil. She will end her brief tragic life under the compassionate care of God’s servants three: a couple of simple nuns and a former convict in concious chaos. But these three are where they should be, living out love as they know it. They look past their own selfish interests and regard others as more important. They don’t have this verse memorized, because they are too busy moving toward the souls that they see in need who are about them.

So my child will play in the garden. It is my own naive cry. Though I am not so naive, recognizing that I am the clear beneficiary of good gifts all around. And do I see the pain of souls around me?

I saw my B co-worker striving for recognition and respect: even to the point of reddened face with passion as he spoke about a dogmatic position that he contends for as if his career depended upon it. So would I use my authority to clarify to him how he is logically askew for a matter that will work itself out in the end either way? Or do I regard him as more important than myself and listen for the nth time to the recited diatribe with loving and listening eyes riveted to the soul who was made in the image of God? My own selfish interest pulls, but my thoughts can turn without pulling back. I can easily decide to move.

My precious one criticizes me unfairly so that my soul is beaten down and longs to pull back in retreat and self-pity. I know that I have the power. So do I use my power to hold her accountable and ensure that the “truth” is known and acknowledged? Or do I regard her as more important than myself and seek her out with gentle words of kindness and caring? For she is my precious one, and if truth be known on all fronts, I would be found wanting. My own selfish interest pulls, but my thoughts can turn without pulling back. I can easily decide to move.

Loving is living.

Without even thinking: V1 B7 C9

Tags

homeless, les miserable, love, self-awareness

It seems that Champmathieu is fated to suffer in the prisons as a convenient answer to an unsolved crime. And resembling enough the real JVJ, the assumption is already a done deal and even his own prosecutor is conceding on the key point that determines his fate. Its all about the assumptions.

Yesterday in the movie theatre a young boy, perhaps 11, sat in front of me with his mother and siblings. The boy could not keep still and would jump up and down in his seat throughout, or swing his chair back and forth, clipping me on the feet at times. I looked at my daughter who was home from college for Christmas with the understanding that probably this boy has some issue with autism. Or perhaps it was purely behavioral, and he was trying to make a commotion. But in any event, he had some problem that was a nuisance to those around him. Even for someone as young as he was, it was easy for me to judge in my gut as an initial reaction.

But it strikes me that so much of my negative reaction to people is all about my narrow range of socially acceptable behaviors. And they are judgments that I place on myself as well that perhaps limit my freedom to enjoy the moments.

I am pretty anal about shopping carts in the store. I do not like it when our shopping cart gets left out in the middle of an aisle or at some high-traffic area so that people are inconvenienced by its presence. And with he same attitude, I judge others when they are oblivious to other people trying to get through the store as they obstruct a passageway, perhaps even leaving their cart in the middle of the aisle to wander off at some other location mindlessly browsing the merchandise. So part of my mission in the store is to correct the position of the cart as my wife moves through the aisles. I don’t want to be judged as someone who is insensitive to others. And of course, I am quick to judge the inconsiderate centerlane wheeling of the oblivious housewife for her self-centeredness.

Yes, of course this s extreme behavior. But it explains a lot about my imitations as a person. It explains why I might not enjoy life more in the moment without worrying about judgment from others. And it explains why I might not be so quick to presume good character from strangers who have not followed the same cultural nuances that I have.

It all happens without even thinking. But I am living more in the moment as I acknowledge my tendency to prejudge, and my extremely narrow view of the world. But even in this acknowledgment, I can let my self off of the hook. Sure, God is much bigger than I can imagine or understand. Sure, people have their experiences, lives, and beliefs that are just as valid as mine. But the more recent revelation in all of this is that my God is near to me, and uses me even in my narrowness. So I don’t have to beat myself up over my tendencies; this helps me to let go of my prejudgment and to love a homeless man like Champmathieu.