I wrote a blog a week or so ago entitled, “Lisa Called.” The long and short of it was that a gal named Lisa called with concerns for my chronic pain (which, by the way, is nonexistent). I was glad for her concern, but I hung up on her anyway—don’t worry, she was merely a recording.
Today, I received another phone call from Lisa. I knew it was she, because I recognized her voice (not to mention the fact that she began by saying, “Hello, this is Lisa”…a dead giveaway). She probably fools a lot of people, however, because of the change in topic.
She was no longer concerned about my protracted discomfort. She was, in fact, inquiring about my credit card. I hate to say this, but I hung up on her once again. But, as in previous calls, it was merely a recording of her voice. The actual Lisa is probably in Hawaii soaking up the sun, so she’s certainly not feeling the rejection.
I’m not exactly sure why Lisa is showing such a profound interest in my wellbeing, but I’m guessing she doesn’t
People like the Apostle Paul had (and continue to have) a different view. From their perspective, concern for others is to be urged and cultivated among the brethren. If we Christians lack concern for one another, we are no different than anyone else. Saint Peter referred to us as a “peculiar people,” not because we’re strange, but because we’re different—or, at least, we’re supposed to be (1 Peter 2:9–KJV).
Sadly, we’re often just like the rest of the culture around us. We’re so caught up in ourselves and our own little foibles that we couldn’t care less about our neighbors. When Jesus told us to love our enemies, I’m pretty sure He wasn’t limiting our sphere of concern to some far away government. His command to love extends to everyone everywhere. And if I understand it correctly, the effort to love someone will automatically include a concern for their welfare. It comes with the territory.
They Put Us to Shame
Over the years, I’ve noticed that there seem to be certain individuals who are caring people. They seem to have a propensity and a capacity for reaching out to others with care and concern. This virtuous characteristic is certainly not confined to the people who call themselves Christian. Some of the most caring people I know don’t even believe in God. They put us to shame.
I’m not sure how that happens. Is it in their genetic make-up, or did they learn that along the way? I lean toward the latter. It gives me hope that I can learn to be that way as well. Thank you,
[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]