"And let us not grow weary of doing good..." Galatians 6:9
My dad is a very wise man. I have learned countless lessons from him but there is one that has stuck with me for the last thirty-five years.
Once in my early teen years, my family and I went to Seattle, Washington for vacation. If you have never been to Seattle, it’s important to know that the downtown area is situated on Puget Sound, an inlet of the Pacific Ocean. Downtown Seattle is a hub of activity, much of which is located on the Waterfront. The Seattle ferry system that operates from the Waterfront is vast and complex, taking commuters from the downtown area to Bainbridge Island, Bremerton, Vashon Island, or Port Orchard and back again.
As a family we had been on the waterfront taking in the sights, browsing souvenir shops and having lunch. We strolled down the wooden planks of the boardwalk assaulted by the scents of sea life, diesel-fuel exhaust and the occasional overly-ripe homeless person (in my day, we called them “bums”). The unfortunate side effect of a heavily populated tourist trap such as downtown Seattle, is that transient people see this as an opportunity. The Seattle Waterfront was no exception. Homeless people littered the sides of the boardwalk; sleeping in doorways, sheltered under an overpass or panhandling along the sidewalk.
At this time in my life I was old enough to understand the dynamics of beggars. Although I never encountered them in my small town, I had encountered them on other trips we had taken and when my family and I had spent time in our nearby metropolitan city.
That day in Seattle, we avoided interaction with the transients. Until we passed the ferry terminal...
Passing the ferry terminal my dad was approached by a man. He was not dirty, however he was not tidy and seemed a bit out of sorts. He came up to my dad respectfully and said, “Excuse me, sir, I’m sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you would happen to have five-dollars. I have forgotten my wallet and I don’t have enough money for the ferry to get back home.”
After hearing the man’s request, my dad thought for a moment, reached into his back pocket, withdrew his wallet and handed the man a five-dollar bill. I don’t remember if my dad said anything to the man. If he did, it was probably something like, “Here you go.” The man thanked my father and walked off.
After this exchange, I was stunned when someone in a Washing State Department of Transportation uniform approached my father. The uniformed man looked my dad in the eye and sternly said, “You know he’s just going to buy drugs with that, don’t you? If you keep giving them money, they’re never going to leave!” It was a scolding. I had never seen a grown man scold another grown man, much less someone scolding my father.
When the uniformed man left, I was concerned that my dad was in trouble and I asked him. “Was he right? Is that man going to buy drugs with the money you gave him? Was he lying?”
And here’s where the lesson happened…
My dad kindly smiled and said: “ I don’t know what he will do with the money or whether or not he was lying. What I do know is I am only responsible for my actions. I am not responsible for that other man’s actions. If he uses the money to buy drugs, that’s his decision. I saw a man asking for help and I chose to help him.”
I was speechless.
At that moment I had a paradigm shift. My dad acted in kindness. That was his choice to make. Not knowing whether the man was truthful or not, my dad chose to believe him. My dad chose to offer help. He didn’t choose to judge. He didn’t choose to ignore. He chose to be kind. It didn’t cost him much, just five-dollars. Regardless of being chastised, my dad stood by his decision to believe that there is good in people. He decided to trust. He decided to give. All the while, owning his actions and not being attached to the actions of others.
If you know my dad, none of this isn’t going to come as a surprise to you. Not only is he wise, he is also compassionate. His actions that day will seem very much in line with the way he has lived his life, at least as long as I have known him.
My dad has many philosophies in life and I think, in a way, he is a student of life. One philosophy I have heard him quote often is a philosophy called The Four-Fold Way. The Four-Fold Way is a book by Angeles Arrien. The philosophy of the book can be boiled down to four steps (or ways, if you will). Show up. Pay attention. Tell the Truth. Don’t be attached to the outcome. (See, now you don’t have to read the book since I summarized it for you. You’re welcome.)
My dad followed this philosophy when dealing with the beggar in Seattle. He showed up. He was there. He paid attention. He listened to what the man had to say. He told the truth, not only when I asked about the repercussions of his action, but also when he gave the man the five-dollars. That was telling the truth. The man asked if my dad could give him five-dollars. The answer was yes. And finally, probably the most important, he wasn’t attached to the outcome. What that man did with the five-dollars was not for my dad to be concerned. He had chosen his actions and the other man would have to choose his own actions as well. It seems so simple, vastly complex and difficult to execute all at the same time... But my father was able to follow the Four-Fold Way and do it well.
As with so many philosophies that we seek to understand and apply to our lives, The Four-Fold Way makes me think of Jesus. After all, he is our ultimate example.
In his journey to the cross, his journey to our redemption, he followed the steps of The Four-Fold Way. Jesus showed up! So many times I have pondered what would have happened if, on Palm Sunday, Jesus would have turned the donkey down a different road, away from Jerusalem. What if he had not been obedient? What if he had not “shown up”? How would the story have played out? Fortunately, we don’t have to speculate. Jesus, in the ultimate sacrifice, rode the donkey into Jerusalem. He showed up.
Jesus paid attention. Jesus saw people. He listened. He observed. He asked what they needed and he gave it to them: sight to the blind, healing to sick, life to the dead, forgiveness for the burdened. He could have walked through crowded streets ignoring the pain and anguish, but he didn’t. He knew his place and purpose. He knew his truth. And still, he served those in need because he paid attention.
He told the truth; time and time again. Standing before Pilate, his destiny in his hands, Jesus could have lied. He could have said he was not the Son of God, not the King of the Jews. He could have said that he made it all up and he was just an ordinary guy. Then he would have been given a slap on the wrist instead of death-sentence. Jesus told the truth.
And finally, Jesus was not attached to the outcome, at least not the Earthly one. Asking to have the cup taken from him, was an acknowledgement that he knew his role. He knew that all roads lead to his crucifixion. He knew he would endure suffering and the weight of the sins of the world. He knew ultimately he would experience a horrifying death. But he was not attached to that outcome. He knew it was the will of the Father.
This approach to life is not an easy one: showing up, paying attention, telling the truth and not being attached to the outcome. Jesus did it perfectly, but that’s not to say that we will. However, it is a way to refocus our thinking when we feel overwhelmed, out of control or when we are struggling with doing things the right way.
All we can control is ourselves. How other people think, do and respond, that’s up to them. We are each on our own path and have to find the way that is right for us. Sometimes that means walking past the beggar and sometimes that means giving him cash. Either way, we can only be responsible for our actions, what others do is up to them.
ความคิดเห็น