Have you ever wondered about the world inhabited by your neighbors and friends? I am convinced that the world many people live in is very different from my world.
What I mean is that their worlds often seem very confusing to me. They slow down while going through green-lighted intersections. They repeat themselves constantly when describing events. They tell stories in round-about, redundant presentations, when the stories could be told easily.
Some people seem not to understand anything much at all. They are lost in dealing with computers or cell phones. They ask questions about things that are obvious and seem confused by things that are commonplace. Sometimes, in moments of weakness, I can get to rather despising them. Then, I remember other things.
I remember sitting with a group of men talking about deer hunting. They describe the places they sit and the way the deer behave and the kind of gun or arrow they are using, and I cannot place any of it at all. It makes no sense to me at all.
I hear people describe how much they enjoy fishing or hiking or rock climbing, but I cannot even imagine enjoying something like that. I try to, because men are supposed to like such things, but I do not live in that world at all.
Yet, they want me to live there. They want me to not only understand, but enjoy hunting. They invite me to go hunting, convinced that I would really enjoy it "if I gave it a chance." in the same way, other people have told me that I would really enjoy "working out" "if I gave it a chance," but, apparently, months of effort are not a real chance, because I never came to like it.
Some men sit and talk carpentry and woodworking, but I am lost. I have only the vaguest notion of what a "router" does, for example, and no understanding of wood at all. They will ask me to work with them on something, convinced I will like it "if I give it a chance," but I never come to like it at all.
The reality is that we all live in different worlds. My world is a world of words and music and books and computers and I enjoy it. I love the things I love. Other men hate the things I love and they love things I hate (or, at least, that I do not love).
It is time that we accepted this reality, in our lives and in our churches. As a preacher, I am afraid I spent many years trying to get everyone to love "truth" the way I do, but did not realize that they do not enjoy all the noise and arguments and hubbub. They want answers, not questions, and I often gave them questions, not answers.
But if I am to love my neighbor, isn't this part of the command? Isn't it incumbent upon me to love "who he is," not "who he would be if he were more like me?" I need to know his world, even if I cannot live in it, in order to love him effectually.
Just don't ask me to saw anything or to sit in a deer stand. Please.
What I mean is that their worlds often seem very confusing to me. They slow down while going through green-lighted intersections. They repeat themselves constantly when describing events. They tell stories in round-about, redundant presentations, when the stories could be told easily.
Some people seem not to understand anything much at all. They are lost in dealing with computers or cell phones. They ask questions about things that are obvious and seem confused by things that are commonplace. Sometimes, in moments of weakness, I can get to rather despising them. Then, I remember other things.
I remember sitting with a group of men talking about deer hunting. They describe the places they sit and the way the deer behave and the kind of gun or arrow they are using, and I cannot place any of it at all. It makes no sense to me at all.
I hear people describe how much they enjoy fishing or hiking or rock climbing, but I cannot even imagine enjoying something like that. I try to, because men are supposed to like such things, but I do not live in that world at all.
Yet, they want me to live there. They want me to not only understand, but enjoy hunting. They invite me to go hunting, convinced that I would really enjoy it "if I gave it a chance." in the same way, other people have told me that I would really enjoy "working out" "if I gave it a chance," but, apparently, months of effort are not a real chance, because I never came to like it.
Some men sit and talk carpentry and woodworking, but I am lost. I have only the vaguest notion of what a "router" does, for example, and no understanding of wood at all. They will ask me to work with them on something, convinced I will like it "if I give it a chance," but I never come to like it at all.
The reality is that we all live in different worlds. My world is a world of words and music and books and computers and I enjoy it. I love the things I love. Other men hate the things I love and they love things I hate (or, at least, that I do not love).
It is time that we accepted this reality, in our lives and in our churches. As a preacher, I am afraid I spent many years trying to get everyone to love "truth" the way I do, but did not realize that they do not enjoy all the noise and arguments and hubbub. They want answers, not questions, and I often gave them questions, not answers.
But if I am to love my neighbor, isn't this part of the command? Isn't it incumbent upon me to love "who he is," not "who he would be if he were more like me?" I need to know his world, even if I cannot live in it, in order to love him effectually.
Just don't ask me to saw anything or to sit in a deer stand. Please.