Affirmations

The only time I missed a performance in college was when I contracted mononucleosis. My spleen was the size of a football and because of the risk of a rupture, I was confined to the infirmary for a week. I brought all my textbooks and a Bible. I thought the time alone might provide an excellent opportunity to read a few books from the big one. And besides it seemed God had cancelled all my other plans. There’s often a reason for where we find ourselves.

That week, the nurse told me about a patient down the hall. “He seems lost. Would you talk with him?” It’s funny that when you are caught reading the Bible in a semi-public place, people conclude you must be in tune with God. That’s a claim I could not make then and cannot make now. Nevertheless, I agreed. I don’t recall any of our conversations, or even the other guy’s name. This took place 50 years ago, at a time when I wasn’t firing on all cylinders, as they say. I can only hope our interactions were positive. I also hope I was somehow able to communicate that I believe God loves us, even when we don’t think we are worthy of that love.

I’ve made it a practice to avoid “preaching” to others. My preference is to try to lead by example, to be kind and helpful, and to try not to be a jerk. If the subject of faith comes up, I will share, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to push my beliefs on others. I simply believe I ought to live the best life I can, aiming to “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with my God.” (Good advice, no matter what religion one practices.) My faults and my prejudices, my errors and my failings, are too numerous to permit me to tell others how to live. I have my hands full trying to be a better version of me.

In contrast, there are those who use their beliefs as bludgeons, chastising anyone who does anything they believe is wrong. While we are advised to hold each other accountable, I’m pretty sure we are not supposed to do that with a mean spirit, or just to feel better about ourselves: “At least I’m not as bad as they are!” Jesus was caring and reassuring to those he encountered – even those who were called, “sinners.” The only time the Master lost his temper was when men had turned a house of prayer into a house of profit. I won’t comment on how that incident might relate to our capitalistic proclivities.

The point is, before we can convince, we must affirm. Jesus helped the woman at the well. He didn’t belittle her. He sent her on her way with hope in her heart. He affirmed that she was a person who was worthy of love. The Good Samaritan, by his actions, affirmed, “You are a fellow traveler, as worthy as I. And you need help. I will help you.” He did not say, “If you swear that you believe the same things as I do, then I will see what I can do.” The Samaritan’s love was unconditional. And he did not blame the victim: “Why were you out here so late last night? What did you think would happen?” He saw a fellow human being in need, and he did what he could for him. Period.

Sometimes I get discouraged when well-intentioned Christians seek political power in the name of their moral agenda. This effort seems like the opposite of affirming the value of our fellow travelers. It seems like seeking reasons to disregard others and deny them help. If we want to take care of one another, perhaps affirmation is the first step – recognizing that we all have intrinsic value – no matter what religion we practice, what color we are or what gender we might claim to be. To declare that God hates this or that group is to give up on the idea that God loves us all. Affirmations, no matter how small, can lead to kindness, acceptance, respect, and even love. Perhaps then, those who are metaphorically “left for dead” might come to understand that their Samaritan’s faith was real. They might even choose to share in it.

“Now what use is it, my brothers, for a man to say he “has faith” if his actions do not correspond with it? Could that sort of faith save anyone’s soul? If a fellow man or woman has no clothes to wear and nothing to eat, and one of you say, “Good luck to you I hope you’ll keep warm and find enough to eat”, and yet give them nothing to meet their physical needs, what on earth is the good of that? Yet that is exactly what a bare faith without a corresponding life is like—useless and dead. If we only “have faith” a man could easily challenge us by saying, “you say that you have faith, and I have merely good actions. Well, all you can do is to show me a faith without corresponding actions, but I can show you by my actions that I have faith as well.” – James, 14-18a (J.B. Phillips)