Words

You know, when you think about it, you're really lucky to know me.
That is what a friend of mine told me years ago. Sounds pretty arrogant, doesn't it? I thought so and said as much. But as with most things he says, there was more to it than the most obvious meaning.
Think of all the people in the world who will never meet you. And think of all the people you see regularly, even talk to every day who don't truly know you. It would seem that the odds are stacked against getting to know a person. Add to that the fact that he is the most mysterious and subtle person that I know and I marvel at how I know a single thing about him.
You're lucky to know me. And I am. And he's just as lucky to be known by me. I think it's a common misconception that introverts don't need friends. After all, isn't our greatest need after God, to love and be loved by people? To be known and accepted as you are?
I've been reminded of how unbearable it is to be seen by people for what you are; to be known only as a position. It's occurred to me recently that to be seen as a position (humble or even great) is not so different from walking around with a stigma.
I've been thinking lately about the insidious nature of the things people say about each other. First impressions are hard to erase, even though those impressions can precede actually meeting a person. That's why it's so difficult to make things right again after you've spread gossip. Once words have left your lips they are gone like smoke on the wind. They are everywhere and nowhere; you can't collect them again.
I'm struck with the potential far-reaching impact of all the things I've ever said. And I'm challenged. For I've realized just how grave can be the harm of words. Opinions, gossip, fair or otherwise can actually interfere with a person's ability to be known. No understanding, no true acceptance. No acceptance, no love. And by the way, we always think judgements are fair when we are the ones making the conclusions.
I think of Jesus. He was the most misunderstood person of whom I can think. And he is even still. How did he respond to it? Why didn't you respond to lies against you? Why didn't you defend yourself? If one who was perfect did not lash out or defend his position, how then can I, guilty of many things? But what to do? Ignore it? Walk around with a big dumb smile on my face? How lonely it must have been to be the Suffering Servant.