It Matters (7-08)

It Matters
One of the brilliantly written scenes in “The Silence of the Lambs” involves a brief confrontation between FBI agent Clarice Starling and her supervisor, Jack Crawford. In an earlier scene, Crawford, in an attempt to cut a local sheriff away from the herd of other police officers, suggests that the men not talk in front of a woman – the sole woman in question being Clarice. Later, Crawford senses her aggravation and tries to explain that the comment was all for show; that it meant nothing. In a gentle reprimand, Clarice reminds her boss, “It matters…they look at you to see how to act…It matters.”
Many of us who call ourselves Christians sometimes forget that it matters. I’m reminded of a joke Joyce Meyer tells about a woman who, after honking and screaming and offering obscene gestures at the car in front of her, is hauled off to jail. Later, when she is released, the police officer explains, “I saw the Jesus bumper sticker, the Christian fish, and the cross on your rearview mirror…and figured you had stolen the car.”
Perhaps now more than ever, people are looking at us; not necessarily to see how to act, but to see how we act. They’re seeking any excuse to say, “See those Christians, they’re all holy and pious at church, but they act totally rude to the guy at the deli counter!” Or “I love how Suzy says she’s a Christian in one breath, and says that all _______ (gays, abortion doctors, Muslims) deserve to die in the next.”
It matters. Whether we realize it or not, Christianity comes with a responsibility beyond sitting in a pew for an hour one day a week. This responsibility goes beyond doing our best not to sin, and repenting when we do. Beyond being loving and forgiving – to EVERYONE – though that in itself can be a tall order. Rather, it is in our day to day actions and interactions with other people that our faith is personified.
When I attended elementary school, I lived in the neighborhood and thus walked to and from school every day (uphill, both ways, haha). On the occasions when it was bitterly cold or pouring rain or both, my mother would offer to drive me to school on her way to work. Invariably, we would pass my neighbor Chris walking to school – head down, fifth grade sulk-frown mastered. My mother would pull the car over and wait for Chris to get in. Invariably she would chime “Good morning!” at Chris – and invariably, he would say absolutely nothing in reply. I’m sure that at the time I felt embarrassed for my mother. Why did she say that every single time, knowing that he was never, ever going to say good morning or anything else to her? And why did she have to say it so happily? Now, when I reflect on this two second life moment in my childhood, I’m filled with love and admiration for my mother, who was going to repeatedly greet someone properly regardless of how he reacted. I’m reminded of this little scene every time I leave my house. Regardless of my mood, my bad hair day, my aching back…when I step out into the secular world, I am, as we used to say in theater class, “on.” People – my neighbors, my husband, my son, complete strangers, may not be looking at me to see how to act, but they may well be noticing how I act.
Is it really so hard to say good morning? To offer a compassionate smile to the harried woman at the grocery, the disheveled co-worker at the office, the mailman? As He was dying on the cross, it occurred to Christ to forgive those who had put him there. Can we, then, really not be bothered to offer simple courtesy/respect/fellowship/help to those around us, even in the smallest ways – irrespective of whether they “deserve it,” whether they answer back, whether we feel like it? We have more influence than we think. People are desperate for role models, and, in spite of what the media are trying to sell us, they are usually not looking to TV actors, talk show hosts, and rock stars. They’re looking at US. What are we showing them?
It matters.