A Lot of Hot Air

"Ask yourself, What would Jesus do?"

THE PINK BALLOON THOUGHT the red balloon was too bold, and she squeaked when she floated. Too high pitched for her liking. She much preferred the blue balloon. He swayed in the breeze and had such a nice, elongated neck. He never made a sound. The blue balloon thought the pink balloon needed to clean up a bit and float higher. He avoided the red balloon at all costs. (Lowers his voice.) Someone had ... drawn on her. (Gasps.) The red balloon wished she could be on the stage, in the lights, with perhaps some of that smoke swirling around her. If only the pink balloon had a shorter string, she could be seen better.

The microphone hated the drum set. Honestly, who can be heard over all that racket? The drum set wished the microphone would pipe down. Both rolled their eyes at the pipe organ. So old fashioned! The pipe organ wished the guitar had more polish and less twang. Nobody played those old songs that way anymore. And no one should play them like the keyboard. What in the world was she thinking? Why when Fanny Crosby wrote that, she expected it to be dignified. These young instruments nowadays. Why in her day, all they needed was a pipe organ and a good monotone soprano.

The pew could remember when all she saw was the hem of a woman's skirt, when men wore slacks. She gave a creak, protesting the toddler's one millionth attempt to climb over her back cushion. When kids were disciplined and not like these wild ones today, up-down-up-down, things were so much better. Didn't anyone teach them to sit nowadays? Of course, it would help if the service wasn't so long. They used to limit it to an hour. Three songs, a short offering, and a sermon all written out. They used to pass out sermon notes. Her hymnal rack gaped open. They used to sing from the hymnbook. The toddler climbed up again and her mother pulled her down and stuck a cell phone in her grasp. Some cartoon image moved on the screen and the child quieted. The pew creaked again.

No one in these modern bakeries had room for those old-fashioned donuts. The eclairs looked askance at the roundness of them. The Danishes were all "look at my filling" with not one nod in their forefather’s direction. Nothing more boring than having a hole in the center. Why you needed more than just cream cheese to make it nowadays. More than simple fruits. Today's fillings were exotic. A cheer went up from the donut hole bins. So many of them, the crullers thought. But then, they were quick and easy, which was the in thing. You could punch them out one after the other. No French required.

What if these stories were about people? What if you nitpicked someone from the older generation for disliking hip hop? What if those all into lofi rolled their eyes at your pipe organ hymn? What if you refused to attend that church because they had a fog machine? What if they refused to watch your pastor because he still wore a suit? What if their singers were well-trained but yours sounds like a "metal god"? Okay, that's taking it too far! Everyone with their microphones at 10 paces!

The devil's opinion is that you should have an opinion and it ought to be highlighted. You should be happy and have everything just your way. He says it's okay to point out how she dressed, how he styles his hair, how often their children have to be retrieved from the nursery. And failing that, let's pick apart each other's doctrine. Can you believe the St. Schmerps think Jesus levitated? Or for the sake of argument, let's pick two religions and line them up, see which is more wrong. Oh, I know! For the sake of unity, let's just pick on those who we think aren't saved. This we can agree on! A few head shakes and a tsk-tsk and we're off the hook for saying anything about a Christian. After all, they wouldn’t believe such ridiculousness.

And they will die in their sins, believing what they believe, because no one displayed the truth. No one loved them like Jesus. No one hugged the girl in the ripped blue jeans. No one sang "How Great Thou Art" to that grandmother who has ignored God all her life. No one dared to enter teendom and ignore the sights and sounds of youth just to say, Jesus loves you. No one from one denomination bothered to shake hands with someone from another one.

Everyone to your corners and stay there, face masks at the ready. Then you won't have to smile or nod. And you can grimace freely. OR we could all love one another and let the Holy Spirit do the changing of our heart. Yeah! There's an idea! We could stop taking it on ourselves to pick at each other’s opposite opinions. We could refuse to use people as an example of humiliation, and call it funny, and laugh.

Jesus was baptized by a rogue preacher. Cousin John was a little "out there." I mean camel hair is a strange clothing choice, and his breath probably smelled like locusts. Not the point, at least not directly. Point is, he was not in the temple where people thought anyone religious should be. He's making a scene in the Jordan River, calling the scribes and Pharisees "vipers," and he's who Jesus chooses for His ministry anointing.

Jesus ate dinner with tax collectors and other "refuse" and was called out on it. But, but they don't live right! Kinda the point. Only the Word knows the thought and intent of people's hearts, and He went to find the lost sheep, instead of calling them forward for a good tongue lashing. No, the only ones who got a tongue lashing were those who thought their opinion was better than anyone else's.

I'm just going to put this out there. But there is never any reason to criticize another person and elevate yourself to be the judge. Not even if they are dead wrong. Ask yourself, What would Jesus do? Would He refuse them because they wore nice pharisaical robes? Because they were fishermen? Because she used to be a prostitute? Because that woman was caught in adultery? Because he was Roman centurion? Would Jesus turn them away for any reason? He forgave a thief who was guilty and hanging there to die.

We must pray for these people we choose to judge, for those who don't dress like we do, for those who don't preach like we do. Even if they would spit in our face, our part is to love them. To pray God's goodness into their lives, His wisdom, and their lives to be blessed. They might be like Paul, a religious zealot who killed Christians. Or Peter, an everyday working man. Or Judas. They might be like me. Like you. Like that mother you saw struggling with her children. Like that pastor on TV who you just can't stand. What if you loved him like Jesus and just let all the hatred fall away?

What if you could go into any crowd, be joyful and kind, and never think one negative, hateful, critical thing?

“Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment, and cast lots.” (Luke 23:34 KJV)

Photo by Rod Long on Unsplash


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com