A Curious Sight in the Valley

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle ... – Jesus

One morning Barb and I were sitting in our living room enjoying a cup of coffee when we looked outside and saw a car slow down to a crawl in front of our house. The occupants were chattering excitedly and pointing at the house and I wondered if they were staring at us, as we were not exactly dressed for company.

I knew from experience that was not the case as our windows have a reflective quality about them that makes it difficult to peer inside from outside during daylight hours. Still, their staring made me a bit self-conscious and curious, so I stepped over to the window and glanced outside, but I could see nothing noteworthy in our yard making a slow-drive-by necessary.

The car moved on and as it did so I stepped closer to the window and noted a fawn resting peaceably right below our window. THAT’s what the folks were looking at! Now it made sense.

I was correct thinking it couldn’t be us; I knew it couldn’t be our landscaping (if you can call what we have out front “landscaping” to begin with); and I was pretty sure it wasn’t our log-sided house which, while nice, is nothing to write home about. There was simply something out of our view that was attracting attention, and until we were willing to either step closer to the window or actually go outside, we would never have known it was there.

I wonder what we can learn about ourselves and about life in general from this. What leapt to mind for me was the matter of racism about which we’ve been hearing so much lately. Most of us live within the context of our own skin, and so it is hard to imagine life within the realm of someone else’s experience.

I am a white man, but I never think about being white, nor about being a man. I’m simply me. I am the only person I’ve known as well as I know me (and I confuse myself a lot, even at that).

I would love to think I haven’t got a racist bone in my body and yet I know that when I speak, I inevitably display all sorts of ignorance and stupidity with regards to other people. That’s normal, so one shouldn’t be afraid to admit it.

I know it irritates me when I read or see in the news that “a black man was shot by …” I wonder why they can’t simply report that a man was shot. Is there an ulterior motive in identifying the race?

No; I do not think that identifying race is part of some liberal agenda or storyline the media are trying to perpetuate. Like it or not, statistics help identify trends or issues that might otherwise be lost in the cloud – allowing injustices to continue unexamined and unabated.

One key to getting along better with one another is to avoid denying that we are different – all of us. “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your thoughts mine,” says the Lord, so maybe we ought to be honest enough to admit it.

Not all cultures are the same, whether at home or abroad.

I grew up in the north, but I love grits. Many people don’t know what grits are, and so are reluctant to give them a try or, having tried them decided they aren’t their cup of tea. That’s fine. Having good taste doesn’t make me better than you (tongue placed firmly in cheek) – just different.

One day some years ago I made reference to “Orientals” in a sermon. I was told afterwards that the proper term is “Asians.” I am not big on political correctness, but I do strive to be sensitive and inoffensive. My friend corrected me gently, not harshly, and I found that helpful.

When challenged to respect the dignity of every person, it is helpful to be gentle, for upon the foundation of gentleness we can build relationships that improve life for all. Being aware that others often see, feel, and experience what we ourselves cannot or do not, perhaps we can be humble enough to step up to the window with less judgment in this, our valley.