Several years ago when I was teaching, I was right in the middle of my lesson. I was going great guns making sure everyone was understanding, in no uncertain terms, what they needed to know. Suddenly, I felt two little arms go around my waist. I looked down and little brown eyes looked up at me. “I love you, Mrs. Tenney,” said a little voice. It was Angelo. He didn’t think about my lesson or what the consequences might be. He didn’t worry about a reprimand. He just wanted me to know he loved me.
Once in that same year, my husband walked into my classroom bringing something I had asked him to bring. I said, “Boys and girls, this is my husband.” Little bodies jumped out of their seats bumping into each other to give him a hug. What an act of sweetness. No one stopped to ask, “Will he feel funny if I hug him? Will Mrs. Tenney be upset?” No, just love. Christlike love being showered upon a virtual stranger who answered to the name of Mrs. Tenney’s husband.
No wonder Jesus said, “Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for such is the kingdom of heaven.” —Matthew 19:14 (KJV)
These children were not spoiled by the judgment of others. They were innocent and pure and filled with love.
Perhaps as we grow into adults, we lose our spontaneity because we look back on times when we have been corrected and judged harshly. We allow others to shape our self-esteem.
Sociologist Charles Cooley said, “I am not what I think; I am not what you think; I am what I think you think I am.” That is so true. As adults, we begin to live in a world of woulds, shoulds, coulds and buts. “We would do that, but someone will tell me I’m out of line. I should do that, but I won’t because someone will say I am trying to show off.” We weigh and guard our responses because we fear what others will think.
Not only do we, as adults, guard ourselves because of fear; we send out the very thing we dread. It is karma or the law of the harvest. We can’t escape it. We gossip and backbite. We chatter endlessly about the failings of others; in consequence, we expect others might say the same things about us. Hence, we fear spontaneity. It becomes a vicious cycle.
Jesus has a solution, as He always does:
"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? ... Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye." —Mathew 7:1-3, 5 (KJV)
Jesus was talking about the law of the harvest. Whatever you plant is going to grow. Whatever you send out is going to come back. Whatever you do, you can expect the same treatment from somebody else. We pick up one end of the stick, and we can’t avoid picking up the other end as well.
The idea of a beam and a mote has always puzzled me. I used to think a mote was a tiny piece of wood and a beam was something you put on the roof of a house to stabilize it. A mote is understandable. Everyone has had a tiny chip of wood or dirt in the eye. But a beam? Now that is different. Having one of those in your eye would certainly obscure the vision, but how would you get one in the eye in the first place? I always thought it was such an odd comparison, but I accepted it at face value. Jesus said it. It is true.
One Sunday, a teacher gave me a new perspective. She said, “A beam can also mean a beam of light, as in sunlight.” Now that made sense. It is difficult to see something in another’s eye if you have the sun in your eyes. As I thought about it, I realized that it is a perfect comparison. If you want to take something out of someone’s eye, you need light in his or her eye so you can see clearly where the problem is. You need to have the light behind you so you are not blinded.
It is Stephen Covey’s parable of the eye doctor and the glasses from Spiritual Roots of Human Relations. Covey tells a story of a patient with an eye problem going to an optometrist. The doctor, without testing or looking at the patient, says, “Here are my glasses. Try them; they have worked for me for years.”
Often, we try to solve the other person’s problems by giving them our solutions. Our advice is about as good as the optometrist’s old glasses. We must first understand the problem before we can help to solve it. In other words, we must get the beam of light out of our own eye by putting the other person’s problem in the light. We must first take time to understand from the person’s perspective before we can help them to solve their problem. Sometimes, people don’t want us to solve their problems – they just want us to understand and be sympathetic. They want us to feel their pain and show compassion, not a long list of what we think they should do to solve the problem.
I was touched by a quote by Dinah Maria Craik:
"Oh, the comfort – the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts, nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them – keep what is worth keeping – and with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.”
That is what we all want and need. Not a list of what we should have done to avoid the problem or what they would do to solve the problem. Listening to someone without judgment is the highest form of compassion.
The apostles of Jesus at the last supper were a good example of how to judge and get the beam out of your eye before you judge another.
"Now when the even was come, he sat down with the twelve. And as they did eat, he said, Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me. And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began every one of them to say unto him, Lord, is it I?" —Matthew 26: 20-22 (KJV)
The apostles didn’t turn to each other and whisper, “I’ll bet it is Judas; he is acting kind of funny lately.” They simply looked inward in self-reflection: “Am I the one? Is there any chance I might be doing something that would bring about such a comment from the Master? Is my conscience clear of offense?"
This kind of self-evaluation is rare in human beings, but it is very freeing. If you look inward, you can control the outcome. You avoid embarrassment and ridicule from a mistake you might make by blaming someone else. As you view your own mistakes, it gives you a feeling of compassion toward another’s shortcomings. This kind of self-evaluation gives others a soft cushion of kindness and compassion that will allow them to share their problems without fear of retribution. They will feel that you will listen to them honestly and not judge them harshly.
Children know how to show compassion. I once saw a cartoon. I’m not sure I remember it correctly, but it went something like this: There was a picture of Dennis and his friend at the door. Dennis’ mother looked down at them. The caption read, “Will you kiss his knee better; his mother is too busy.”
Children know how spontaneously to show compassion and to love without judgment. They haven’t learned to analyze every situation through the lens of self-interest. They simply live the second great commandment: “Love thy neighbor.”
