Service That Isn't Service

When is “service” technically NOT service? When it insists that you – the consumer or client – go to some extreme to obtain the so-called “service.” Allow me to give a few examples, and then we will see if the Scriptures have anything to say about my point.

On Friday of last week, I developed a gum abscess. It grew in size (and dimension of pain), but rather than call my dentist and ask for an emergency meeting, I decided to go to a nearby fast-in-and-out clinic on Sunday. Was it a mistake? Well, besides being given a prescription for a do-nothing antibiotic (and no pain medication relief), the attending physician decided to give me a lecture on my high blood pressure (yes, I know – I have a medication for that, and my blood pressure tends to be elevated when I have had an average of 2 – 3 hours’ sleep for several nights, plus other factors which I will shortly enumerate). After several reminders that it was NOT possible to visit my primary care physician on a Sunday, she finally stopped lecturing me and let me go. I visited my local pharmacy, which – remarkably! – had the prescription filled and ready to go (keep that in mind a few paragraphs down), even though it had been less than 30 minutes since I had left the clinic. I had not visited that particular pharmacy in over 18 months, so I was not up to speed on its official hours; one sign in the window said it was open until 6, and a poster just to the right of the window said, “Effective 11/21/21, Pharmacy Drive-thru 9 am to 9 pm” (pictures that I took can be furnished upon request). Now – logically – which one would YOU believe?

Fast forward to Tuesday, when my dentist squeezed me into his busy schedule, dealt with the abscess, and sent me on my way after calling in a stronger antibiotic to deal with this ugly thing. I arrived at the pharmacy mentioned above an hour later, and after a 25-minute wait in the drive-thru line, I was informed that the prescription was not yet filled, and that it would take another 20 minutes or so to fulfill it. That information was delivered to me at 5:35 p.m. I had not eaten anything solid since 9 am due to the pain, so I drove home to eat something (now that the pain had subsided substantially), thinking I had until 9 p.m. to claim the prescription. I was “wrong.” At 7:30 p.m., I drove up to the drive-thru window, only to discover the pharmacy was locked up, lights off, and with no way to claim my much-needed medication.

Shortly after 9 a.m. the next day, I headed back to the pharmacy (a 5-minute drive). I joined the line, and waited over 30 minutes to receive the antibiotic. When I pointed out to the pharmacy manager that there were two different times on display, he said, “Oh,” and then proceeded to offer an excuse (not a reason). I think the fact that I took pictures helped him to realize how unacceptable his excuse was. I hear the “everyone-knows-this-so-why-don’t-you?” ploy all the time. Either I’m supposed to have a telepathic gene somewhere which makes me omniscient – spoiler alert: I don’t – or this is part of the “we-played-for-you-and-you-didn’t-dance” nonsense that Jesus decried in Matthew 11: 16-17 (see my blog from 2 days ago).

Am I complaining? Yes. Although many Christians have been conditioned to believe that complaining is wicked and is a sign of an unforgiving spirit, may I remind you that the Lord Himself spoke the truth to the hypocritical Pharisees (Matthew 23, etc.). Saints Paul and Peter reminded Christians to be kind to one another, but does that “kindness” mean that we are to suppress the truth? (Again, I direct you to Peter’s dealings with Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5.) Some may remind me of the cheek-slapping and burden-bearing we are to endure when confronted with thoughtless bullies (see Matthew 5:39-48). However, as the brilliant crowd-funded-for-television series The Chosen points out, once you retaliate, you cannot preach the Good News; therefore, Christ directs us not to retaliate. However, there is a little-regarded caveat: Jesus does not forbid us to speak out. While we are standing there waiting for the next slap, or walking the extra mile with our enemies’ burden on our shoulders, we have the opportunity and right to speak to the injustice occurring. (Otherwise, Paul speaking out against his near-flogging in Acts 22:24 promotes some anti-Christian theology.)

I am not talking about retaliation here. I am calling for an awakening in a society that claims “Christian” values – such as caring for the sick, the underprivileged, etc. – but insists that their “woke” philosophy need not spring from a commitment to Christ – and therefore does not need to adhere to any of His teachings. Such a stance can never work because it has no core values; they are ever-shifting.

OK. I promised to give you one more example, and I will. On the same day that my abscess developed, I was expecting a group of students (from an out-of-town “ministry”) to show up at my house. I had been preparing for months – literally – storing up paper plates and cups and coffee and tea and lemonade and plastic ware and sheets and towels and spaces to put blow-ups and places to sit and eat, etc. – I and my late husband had played hosts to this group over the past seven years, so I pretty much knew what was needed and what to expect. I should have known that something was amiss when communication from them was in short supply. Finally, the day before their supposed arrival, I received a text message with their itinerary; it stated that the group was planning to arrive in my town around 2 p.m.

Two p.m. came and went…then 3 p.m…then 4 p.m. At 8:30 p.m., I decided to call the person who had contacted me. This person explained that her group was just about ready to cook dinner at another location, and that nine persons would arrive at my house around “10:30 or 11.” Yes – that was p.m.! Slightly perturbed, I explained that not only was that projected arrival past my usual bedtime (remember, I had continued to prepare all that week / day), but that the young couple who also occupy my house were expecting their first child any day; they needed and deserved uninterrupted sleep. Settling nine or so excited, chatty persons was not an easy task; it would take at least an hour once the bed assignments and the showers and the drinks of water and the directions for soiled laundry and the blankets were claimed to bring peace and quiet to a tired household. I urged them to bring some food over to my house right away, get settled, and cooperate with the rules of hospitality that are in place at my house (everyone here settles down at 9 p.m.).

The response? “We’ll just sleep on the floor in our other location(s).” It was a real two-for-one! “We’ll slap your hospitality in the face, and you’ll tolerate it. Besides that, who cares if you shouldered our burden for over ‘two miles’?” Suffice it to say that no student crossed my threshold either that night, or for the rest of the weekend. Crickets.

I have no idea if the person in charge who I spoke to is a Christian; I am not here to judge. I am writing to claim that Matthew 5 does not make me a doormat – not to the clinic, the pharmacy or the student groups. If you claim to be “serving” me or others, act like a true servant.

Even doormats squeak from time to time.

 

Games and Dances

 Have you ever wondered if people are playing games around you, and you realize that you are not a participant; furthermore, you do not even know the rules? You know what is true and noble and honorable. You know that there is a moral foundation to the universe. And yet – all around you – you see people mocking the Commandments, twisting the Constitution, asserting that black is white, and that evil is good. If you mourn over this (and even if you don’t), read on.

People played games in the time of Christ Jesus; they may have had different personalities and characters and situations to deal with, but they were games nevertheless. One game was named “holiness,” in which one “religious” group tried to be “holier” than another. This game is still being played, although it doesn’t usually involve the word “religion”; it usually uses “moral courage” or some other euphemism for the same concept. These game-participants speak phrases and sentences that they know are not true, and – to prove their point – they redefine most (if not every) key word. Do you recognize the phrase “safe and effective”? Have you heard the sentence, “We’re all in this together”?

Question: How can a substance be “safe and effective” when it has harmed and/or killed over 100,000 people?

Question: If “we’re all in this together,” why are ordinary people suffering under rules that only apply to some people, and not others?

Jesus said, “To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others: 'We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn'” (Matthew 11:16-17). In other words, some people were (are) playing made-up or fake games, and those who do not comply with the game-makers are condemned.

Another game people played in the time of Christ was “hate-the-Romans.” It was a very easy game to play, because the Romans were unmistakably evident; they often wore red-and-brown armor, and carried swords. They collected taxes and generally bullied people around. During Jesus’ sojourn on earth, it was terribly wrong for any Israelite to try to be friendly towards this enemy. (News flash! Jesus actually befriended a Roman centurion – see Luke 7:1-10.) Nowadays, we speak of “blue” and “red” states, and one gets the distinct impression that the bullies have adopted these colors so that they can label their enemies for easy target practice.

Question: What does a “blue” state look like? What does a “red” state look like? Are either of these colors mentioned in the Constitution of the United States?

Jesus said, “The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks” (Luke 6:45).

There is a third game / dance that I would like to mention. It is called “offend-no-one.” In Jesus’ time, the religious leaders were always accusing Him of “offending” someone. You will, I trust, remember why they said this: He ate and drank with sinners; He healed on the Sabbath; He performed startling miracles that demonstrated His connection with His Father in Heaven. He “offended” the “righteous” people around Him – and, yes, He was still God. No one could stop Him permanently, just as certain scientists can call a male a “female” today – but it changes nothing; it stops nothing. God decides who is a male or a female at the moment of conception (yes, the parents play a part, but He does the DNA-directing).

Question: Why do people insist we pretend that men in women’s clothing are “female”? Why do people pretend that a woman-with-a-beard who gives birth is somehow a “male” performing a miraculous event?

Jesus said, “Have you not read that He who created them from the beginning made them male and female…? (Matthew 19:4). (The “He” that Jesus referred to is God the Father.)

There is a dance [of unrighteousness] being performed around you; do not participate. There is a game [of word manipulation and subterfuge] being played before your very eyes; do not become a game-piece.

 

What I Have Learned in the Past Eighteen Months (Part I)

 

            Eighteen months ago, my world came to a crashing end. My beloved Allen suddenly died. We had been married just 7 months short of 50 years.

I am in another world now, a world without my

v      husband;

v      friend;

v      confidante;

v      partner;

v      financier;

v      soul-mate.

Instead, I am in a world of

v      waiting;

v      impatience;

v      challenge;

v      possibilities;

v      loneliness;

v      solitude.

I fell into the bottomless pit of despair.

            But Jesus was there to catch me.

I fell asleep, and didn’t want to wake up.

            But Jesus opened the window of light to draw me out of my stupor.

I went hungry, though I filled my stomach on what was in the cupboard.

            But Jesus was there to nourish me.

It may sound like I am trying to romanticize the hell I’ve been through.

            But I assure you I am on the path to the outskirts of Heaven.

 

More tomorrow.