A Little Knowledge Can Be A Good Thing

Our youngest son had a rough time on the bus the other day. He came home frustrated and upset because another kid pushed him out of the seat and was calling him names. Naturally, our parental instincts kicked into high gear and we immediately went into defensive mode, wondering why such delinquents are not banished from our schools and what could be done to shelter our child from this future felon. Then my son said something that changed our whole perspective and tone of the conversation. He said, "The kid didn't used to be that way, but his mom died."

It's amazing how a little knowledge can unlock a wave of compassion and understanding.

As much as we want to make quick and simple judgments about everyone and everything, life in this world and the people around us are just too complex for that. We categorize, label, and define others by what we see, but we often do so without knowledge. In our admittedly correct observation that some behaviors are wrong and destructive, we lose all sense of grace and compassion for the person behind the action. In our defensiveness, we become blind to the hurt and brokenness that has shaped the one who offended us. Our casual and easy judgments deny our inability to truly know someones story, their pain, or their heart. At the same time, and what may be our greatest motivation, our careless condemnation of those around us masks our own brokenness, dysfunction, and desperate need for grace.

They say a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing and we've all seen cases that seem to prove the point. But when it comes to the realm of passing judgment, it seems like a little knowledge can be a good thing. A little information changed my perception of a kid on the bus from an abusive punk to a hurt, grieving little boy in need of love and understanding. A little knowledge makes me aware once again that I don't have the knowledge necessary to be the judge of the world.

What's In a Name

Over the last decade I have read and reread Eugene Peterson's book Leap Over A Wall, finding both challenge and encouragement from his reflections on the life of David. His insight into the story of David's anointing by Samuel has served as a frequent and timely companion, a necessary reminder and needed source of assurance. Peterson points out that in the narrative found in I Samuel 16:1-13, David's name is not revealed until the very end. Up to that point, he is dismissively referred to by his father only as the "baby brother," the one left tending the sheep. His position and lack of prominence in the family is clear: left out of the celebration, charged with menial tasks, and labeled, not by name, but simply as the "youngest."

Then the story takes an interesting turn. The "baby," the one of insignificance within the family hierarchy, is chosen king. In this surprising moment of anointing, we read that "the Spirit of the Lord came upon David in power." (vs. 13) Did you catch that? The Spirit came upon, not the baby, but David. The very first mention of David's name is in conjunction with the Spirit of God. While others dismissed him with labels of insignificance, God, seeing what others could not see, called him by name.

We get tagged with labels of all kinds, and some of them seemingly hold the power to drain away any sense of significance and value. But the story of David tells us that our significance is not found in the labels, titles, or judgments the world attaches to us. There is Someone who is not swayed or confined by the opinions of others, but truly knows us. He calls us by name, breaking the power of the world's dismissive labels. To be named is to be honored, and in calling us by name God assures us that we are chosen, that within the vastness of this universe we are seen and known, that there is indeed purpose, value, and importance in who we are.

When you are dismissed, disregarded, and devalued by those around you, listen for the voice that calls you by name. Come back to the story of David and see yourself in this story of God and His people, trusting that you too are chosen. As Peterson said, "It's the intent and skill of this scriptural storyteller to turn everyone who reads or hears the story into realizing something essentially Davidic about him- or herself: 'In my insignificant, sheep-keeping obscurity, I am chosen.'" No matter where you are this moment, no matter how you feel about yourself, despite what others might have said about you, you have been chosen by One who knows your name.

The Grace to Change

I celebrated a birthday this last week. Actually, "celebrated" probably isn't the right word - I begrudgingly accepted the fact that I am another year older. Thanks to all of you who remembered and chose to honor the occasion with cracks about my middle-aged status. I'm sure the day will come when I will be able to forgive you.

Birthdays seem to be a natural time for reflection. Looking back, I realized this year more than ever how much I have changed. There was a time when I thought I had everything figured out, all things seemed to fit within my parameters of understanding, I was certain about pretty much everything, and I knew absolutely who was right and who was wrong. Those were simple days, filled with a sense of security, control, and an unhealthy dose of pride. Such days cannot last. After 44 years of experiencing life, walking with others, and allowing the grace of God to work in me, I see a lot of things differently.

There are still things that I am certain about. In fact, I am more certain about some things than ever before. But I have to be honest - my list of certainties is a whole lot shorter than it used to be. Some of the issues and positions I used to argue about passionately just don't seem worth arguing about anymore. Many of the questions I thought had simple answers now seem to be much more complex. I'm starting to believe that some of those folks I thought were absolutely wrong may of had a point. Most of my conclusions have been refined, some have been significantly modified, and a few have been abandoned.

There are those who believe that any change in position, view, or opinion must be regarded as a sign of weakness at best or cowardice at worst. Speaking as one who used to think that way, I now see that weakness and cowardice can also be expressed in my unwillingness to confront the possibility that I might be wrong. Fear is what drives me to reject any notion that my conclusions are imperfect and that those who disagree with me can add anything to the conversation or my understanding. Yes, cowardice can push us into change; but, cowardice can also keep us from change that is needed.

For me to become the person that God has created and called me to be, I must have the courage to embrace change as He leads me forward. I must to live with a sense of humility and the awareness that my understanding, opinions, views, and methods are not perfect and beyond all possibility of error. There are a lot of things I see differently now than I did 20 years ago; and if I live on this earth another 20 years, I hope, by the grace of God, to see things differently than I do now.