janelle
02-09-2004, 01:24 AM
Tom Schaefer
Posted on Sat, Feb. 07, 2004
He was egotistical and in-your-face. I knew him from college, though we were only acquaintances, not friends. In fact, I didn't particularly like him.
After college, we went our separate ways.
Ten years later, he showed up on my doorstep. He had moved to Wichita and wanted to get reacquainted.
In less than a minute, I was sure of one thing: He was as egotistical as ever, and I still didn't like him.
For the next year, he would stop by now and then or call, and I would feel obliged to listen to him. Why, I don't know. Then he moved away, and I haven't heard from him since.
For many people, it's easy to say to a person you don't like: "Get lost." I can't. Call it my upbringing. Call it not wanting to feel guilty for boorish manners. Call it a lack of courage. Instead, I keep my unfriendly feelings to myself.
I once was talking with a woman about our obligation as Christians to love others, even those who are our enemies. I told her that loving them doesn't mean we have to like them.
"Of course we do!" she shot back. "You can't love them if you don't like them."
You mean, I have to like everyone I'm supposed to love? If that's the case, a lot of us are on our way to becoming recluses because the list of people we don't like can be as extensive as a metropolitan phone book.
That shouldn't be surprising when you consider the factors that stoke feelings of dislike: sharp divisions in our politics; hostile attitudes toward various ego-driven celebrities and wannabe celebrities; and impatience with people who behave in ways we think they shouldn't. (Boy, did the Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake incident at the Super Bowl stir up such feelings!)
It's easy to expand the list of those we dislike. Consider this partial one and check off your unfavorites: right-wing nuts, liberal extremists, movie-star egotists, redneck bigots, raunchy rap singers, corrupt CEOs, despoilers of the environment, self-appointed do-gooders. Which ones are easy targets for you not to like?
Ah, but can you love them? If one of them showed up on your doorstep in need, would you be willing to help?
The answer may not be as simple as you think. We Christians like to quote the Scripture that urges us to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matthew 5:44). But even that "simple" call to love our enemies has complicating factors, wrote Glenn Tinder, author and political scientist, because:
"Hatred simplifies; it seeks a reduction of the human race to friends and enemies. Love, however, bears complexities."
While we may be reluctant to speak of hating someone, our dislike of them lets us put them in a separate camp from us -- managed from a distance.
But facing up to complexities that love embraces can be an unexpected opportunity for personal growth, as I discovered with my college acquaintance.
Shortly before he left town, he stopped by to talk. My immediate thought was: How quickly can I get rid of him? But he was different this time, more subdued.
A job he thought was going to be a sure money-maker had fallen through. Now he would have to relocate out of state, and he was anxious about his uncertain future. I listened, but in a way I hadn't before when he wanted only to tout his genius.
An hour later he left, and I haven't heard from him since.
Am I relieved that he is gone? Yes, but I have a different perspective on him and new understanding about myself.
While I think I helped him with his struggles, I realize he also helped me see him as a person who needed someone to care about him.
I would never be a true friend to him, and he would never be someone I liked. But I learned that the absence of friendship doesn't absolve me from the responsibility to care.
When he was willing to open up to me, I had to be ready to shut out distracting thoughts -- and listen.
His vulnerability cut through the protective barrier I had erected around myself and enabled me to care for him -- to help bear another's burdens.
That is true love.
Posted on Sat, Feb. 07, 2004
He was egotistical and in-your-face. I knew him from college, though we were only acquaintances, not friends. In fact, I didn't particularly like him.
After college, we went our separate ways.
Ten years later, he showed up on my doorstep. He had moved to Wichita and wanted to get reacquainted.
In less than a minute, I was sure of one thing: He was as egotistical as ever, and I still didn't like him.
For the next year, he would stop by now and then or call, and I would feel obliged to listen to him. Why, I don't know. Then he moved away, and I haven't heard from him since.
For many people, it's easy to say to a person you don't like: "Get lost." I can't. Call it my upbringing. Call it not wanting to feel guilty for boorish manners. Call it a lack of courage. Instead, I keep my unfriendly feelings to myself.
I once was talking with a woman about our obligation as Christians to love others, even those who are our enemies. I told her that loving them doesn't mean we have to like them.
"Of course we do!" she shot back. "You can't love them if you don't like them."
You mean, I have to like everyone I'm supposed to love? If that's the case, a lot of us are on our way to becoming recluses because the list of people we don't like can be as extensive as a metropolitan phone book.
That shouldn't be surprising when you consider the factors that stoke feelings of dislike: sharp divisions in our politics; hostile attitudes toward various ego-driven celebrities and wannabe celebrities; and impatience with people who behave in ways we think they shouldn't. (Boy, did the Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake incident at the Super Bowl stir up such feelings!)
It's easy to expand the list of those we dislike. Consider this partial one and check off your unfavorites: right-wing nuts, liberal extremists, movie-star egotists, redneck bigots, raunchy rap singers, corrupt CEOs, despoilers of the environment, self-appointed do-gooders. Which ones are easy targets for you not to like?
Ah, but can you love them? If one of them showed up on your doorstep in need, would you be willing to help?
The answer may not be as simple as you think. We Christians like to quote the Scripture that urges us to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matthew 5:44). But even that "simple" call to love our enemies has complicating factors, wrote Glenn Tinder, author and political scientist, because:
"Hatred simplifies; it seeks a reduction of the human race to friends and enemies. Love, however, bears complexities."
While we may be reluctant to speak of hating someone, our dislike of them lets us put them in a separate camp from us -- managed from a distance.
But facing up to complexities that love embraces can be an unexpected opportunity for personal growth, as I discovered with my college acquaintance.
Shortly before he left town, he stopped by to talk. My immediate thought was: How quickly can I get rid of him? But he was different this time, more subdued.
A job he thought was going to be a sure money-maker had fallen through. Now he would have to relocate out of state, and he was anxious about his uncertain future. I listened, but in a way I hadn't before when he wanted only to tout his genius.
An hour later he left, and I haven't heard from him since.
Am I relieved that he is gone? Yes, but I have a different perspective on him and new understanding about myself.
While I think I helped him with his struggles, I realize he also helped me see him as a person who needed someone to care about him.
I would never be a true friend to him, and he would never be someone I liked. But I learned that the absence of friendship doesn't absolve me from the responsibility to care.
When he was willing to open up to me, I had to be ready to shut out distracting thoughts -- and listen.
His vulnerability cut through the protective barrier I had erected around myself and enabled me to care for him -- to help bear another's burdens.
That is true love.