Line Drawing
Stories
Lightly Goes the Good News
Scripture Stories For Reflection
"Where do you draw the line?" Abe demanded. "When is enough enough? Just how far do I have to go?" Abe was a lawyer who felt compelled to know exactly what the law stipulated for every issue imaginable. "It's my training," he explained to a friend. "We lawyers are expected to spell out others' rights and responsibilities under the law. We aren't hired to give fuzzy answers. No, sir! Our clients demand precision!"
But Abe needed precision not only for his clients.
He had endless questions about his own obligations. "When I go strolling in the park, how many times should I tip my hat to a person I've passed three times in the same day? When someone wants to borrow money, how much do I have to loan them before I say, 'Enough is enough already'? How much time must I spend with a friend filling me in on all his little problems? Ditto for the relatives? Just where do I draw the line?"
He consulted other lawyers. He searched and researched dusty covered tomes and scholarly periodicals for answers. And when he'd light upon one, Abe was noticeably relieved. "Ahh! If I meet someone three times a day, I tip my hat once, nod a second time, and wave a third." Or, "I loan twenty percent of a day's wage to my friend, thirty percent to my first cousin, forty percent to my brother, fifty percent to my wife, and seventy-five percent to my mother. At that point, enough is enough! Good, now I know!" Or, "Depending on how long I've known the friend, the time I must spend listening ranges from five minutes for a new acquaintance to an hour and a half for a grade school chum. Then I can draw the line and say, 'Enough is enough already.' "
True, Abe might be inconvenienced by what the law required; but inconveniences didn't matter nearly as much as knowing clearly what was expected. For example, if according to the law a friend deserved an hour's hearing whether he droned on about trivia or desperately needed Abe's attention, Abe had to listen! Only after the full hour was up could he say, "Well, enough is enough. I draw the line here." Only then could he dismiss the friend whether the friend continued to need him or not.
Needless to say, this need to know exactly what was expected of him was found to be the source of much consternation. One day as he walked down a deserted street, Abe spied a man, bruised and beaten, lying in a gutter. The man was black, dressed in a white suit, black shirt and purple tie, and barely conscious. His Panama hat and cane, broken sunglasses, and empty wallet lay scattered about the sidewalk. Abe was shocked as he approached, but stopped short. "I know him! My God, what am I going to do? It's the pimp from K Street! We've been trying to clean up his neighborhood for years. If it weren't for him and his stable of hookers, we'd have no problems! Hmmmm, he's bleeding badly. Maybe one of them clobbered him. Serves him right! But do I have to help him? Him, of all people? A pimp? The law -- what does it say about helping wounded pimps? How far do I have to go? Where do I draw the line? When can I say enough is enough?"
Abe was in such a quandary that he simply wandered off without helping the man, leaving him to an uncertain fate. For the next couple of days Abe did what he always did in these situations. He searched and researched the tomes, and consulted his lawyer friends. However, he got no satisfactory answers about whether the law demanded helping pimps. Walking home from his club, still agonizing over what was expected of him, he came across a small crowd of people listening to an itinerant preacher. "It's Jesus," he muttered. "I've heard him before. Good speaker! I wonder...." Abe stood listening. When Jesus had finished speaking, much to his own surprise Abe blurted out, "Teacher, what must I do to inherit everlasting life?"
Jesus shaded his eyes, looked long and hard at Abe and asked, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?" Abe was relieved. He knew the law on that one. "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." Jesus said "You have answered correctly. Do this and you shall live." But Abe wouldn't drop the matter. That law wasn't clear enough. He needed to know exactly where to draw the line. "Who ... who is my neighbor?"
Jesus answered, "There was a man about your size, wearing a blue suit and gold rimmed glasses like yours, and carrying your kind of brown briefcase on his way from Jerusalem to Jericho. Waiting in the bushes alongside the road were three robbers. They jumped him, beat him, took his money, and then left him for dead.
"An hour passed and a man dressed in a blue suit and wearing gold rimmed glasses like yours came down the road. He also happened to be carrying a brown briefcase. When he saw the man, he stopped, opened his briefcase and removed a book called Line Drawing. Thumbing through it, he reached a certain page, read it, nodded confidently, closed the book, put it back into his case, and walked on.
"A half an hour later another man looking surprisingly like you came down the road, saw the man, halted, and produced a scholarly book from his briefcase. It was titled When Enough Is Enough. Thumbing through it several times, checking and rechecking the index and appendices, he frowned, fidgeted, and sighed. He paced up and down the road for twenty minutes deep in thought. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he walked on.
"Finally, another man came down the road. He wore a white suit, black shirt, purple tie, Panama hat, sunglasses and carried a cane. He was black. He was also the town pimp! Seeing the injured man, he ran over to him, knelt down, and exclaimed, 'What can I do for you, my man?' He took a small flask of whiskey from his suit pocket, gave the injured man a drink, got him to his feet, and practically carried him to a motel a mile down the road. There the pimp told the innkeeper, 'Watch out for my man here. I'll pay you for this cat when I come back.'
"Now I ask you, which of these three proved to be a neighbor?"
Abe was dumbfounded. "Well, not the one who consulted Line Drawing."
"Yes? Go on!"
"And ... uh ... not the other fella who relied on When Enough Is Enough."
"Who was it then?" Jesus insisted.
"The p ... p ... p ... pimp," Abe sputtered.
Jesus winked. "Then go and do likewise. Enough line drawing, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, no line drawing," Abe answered. He had learned that enough is never enough.
Reflection
"Where do I draw the line?" is not an entirely selfish question. It is an acknowledgment that we are limited in what we can and cannot do. As humans we are finite. When we constantly overextend ourselves, we are playing at being God. We need limits. However the honest admission that we have to draw the line ought not to be turned into our life's theme.
"Where do I draw the line" as a life theme becomes a self-imposed limitation not only on what I have to be in relation to others but also on what I can become. Our concern to do only what is required blinds us to our own potential for becoming all that we can become in a variety of relationships. In terms of letting our light shine, we don't want to limit the light by asking how much we have to shine. Rather we want to realize whatever our possibilities are for shining.
If our life theme is "Where do I draw the line?" we might ask ourselves why we insist on drawing lines at all. Do we fear losing ourselves in too much caring and too much giving? Whatever the reason for our fear, only taking the step of trust in the Unbounded Light will really let us shine. Only that will enable us to say enough is never enough!
But Abe needed precision not only for his clients.
He had endless questions about his own obligations. "When I go strolling in the park, how many times should I tip my hat to a person I've passed three times in the same day? When someone wants to borrow money, how much do I have to loan them before I say, 'Enough is enough already'? How much time must I spend with a friend filling me in on all his little problems? Ditto for the relatives? Just where do I draw the line?"
He consulted other lawyers. He searched and researched dusty covered tomes and scholarly periodicals for answers. And when he'd light upon one, Abe was noticeably relieved. "Ahh! If I meet someone three times a day, I tip my hat once, nod a second time, and wave a third." Or, "I loan twenty percent of a day's wage to my friend, thirty percent to my first cousin, forty percent to my brother, fifty percent to my wife, and seventy-five percent to my mother. At that point, enough is enough! Good, now I know!" Or, "Depending on how long I've known the friend, the time I must spend listening ranges from five minutes for a new acquaintance to an hour and a half for a grade school chum. Then I can draw the line and say, 'Enough is enough already.' "
True, Abe might be inconvenienced by what the law required; but inconveniences didn't matter nearly as much as knowing clearly what was expected. For example, if according to the law a friend deserved an hour's hearing whether he droned on about trivia or desperately needed Abe's attention, Abe had to listen! Only after the full hour was up could he say, "Well, enough is enough. I draw the line here." Only then could he dismiss the friend whether the friend continued to need him or not.
Needless to say, this need to know exactly what was expected of him was found to be the source of much consternation. One day as he walked down a deserted street, Abe spied a man, bruised and beaten, lying in a gutter. The man was black, dressed in a white suit, black shirt and purple tie, and barely conscious. His Panama hat and cane, broken sunglasses, and empty wallet lay scattered about the sidewalk. Abe was shocked as he approached, but stopped short. "I know him! My God, what am I going to do? It's the pimp from K Street! We've been trying to clean up his neighborhood for years. If it weren't for him and his stable of hookers, we'd have no problems! Hmmmm, he's bleeding badly. Maybe one of them clobbered him. Serves him right! But do I have to help him? Him, of all people? A pimp? The law -- what does it say about helping wounded pimps? How far do I have to go? Where do I draw the line? When can I say enough is enough?"
Abe was in such a quandary that he simply wandered off without helping the man, leaving him to an uncertain fate. For the next couple of days Abe did what he always did in these situations. He searched and researched the tomes, and consulted his lawyer friends. However, he got no satisfactory answers about whether the law demanded helping pimps. Walking home from his club, still agonizing over what was expected of him, he came across a small crowd of people listening to an itinerant preacher. "It's Jesus," he muttered. "I've heard him before. Good speaker! I wonder...." Abe stood listening. When Jesus had finished speaking, much to his own surprise Abe blurted out, "Teacher, what must I do to inherit everlasting life?"
Jesus shaded his eyes, looked long and hard at Abe and asked, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?" Abe was relieved. He knew the law on that one. "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." Jesus said "You have answered correctly. Do this and you shall live." But Abe wouldn't drop the matter. That law wasn't clear enough. He needed to know exactly where to draw the line. "Who ... who is my neighbor?"
Jesus answered, "There was a man about your size, wearing a blue suit and gold rimmed glasses like yours, and carrying your kind of brown briefcase on his way from Jerusalem to Jericho. Waiting in the bushes alongside the road were three robbers. They jumped him, beat him, took his money, and then left him for dead.
"An hour passed and a man dressed in a blue suit and wearing gold rimmed glasses like yours came down the road. He also happened to be carrying a brown briefcase. When he saw the man, he stopped, opened his briefcase and removed a book called Line Drawing. Thumbing through it, he reached a certain page, read it, nodded confidently, closed the book, put it back into his case, and walked on.
"A half an hour later another man looking surprisingly like you came down the road, saw the man, halted, and produced a scholarly book from his briefcase. It was titled When Enough Is Enough. Thumbing through it several times, checking and rechecking the index and appendices, he frowned, fidgeted, and sighed. He paced up and down the road for twenty minutes deep in thought. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he walked on.
"Finally, another man came down the road. He wore a white suit, black shirt, purple tie, Panama hat, sunglasses and carried a cane. He was black. He was also the town pimp! Seeing the injured man, he ran over to him, knelt down, and exclaimed, 'What can I do for you, my man?' He took a small flask of whiskey from his suit pocket, gave the injured man a drink, got him to his feet, and practically carried him to a motel a mile down the road. There the pimp told the innkeeper, 'Watch out for my man here. I'll pay you for this cat when I come back.'
"Now I ask you, which of these three proved to be a neighbor?"
Abe was dumbfounded. "Well, not the one who consulted Line Drawing."
"Yes? Go on!"
"And ... uh ... not the other fella who relied on When Enough Is Enough."
"Who was it then?" Jesus insisted.
"The p ... p ... p ... pimp," Abe sputtered.
Jesus winked. "Then go and do likewise. Enough line drawing, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, no line drawing," Abe answered. He had learned that enough is never enough.
Reflection
"Where do I draw the line?" is not an entirely selfish question. It is an acknowledgment that we are limited in what we can and cannot do. As humans we are finite. When we constantly overextend ourselves, we are playing at being God. We need limits. However the honest admission that we have to draw the line ought not to be turned into our life's theme.
"Where do I draw the line" as a life theme becomes a self-imposed limitation not only on what I have to be in relation to others but also on what I can become. Our concern to do only what is required blinds us to our own potential for becoming all that we can become in a variety of relationships. In terms of letting our light shine, we don't want to limit the light by asking how much we have to shine. Rather we want to realize whatever our possibilities are for shining.
If our life theme is "Where do I draw the line?" we might ask ourselves why we insist on drawing lines at all. Do we fear losing ourselves in too much caring and too much giving? Whatever the reason for our fear, only taking the step of trust in the Unbounded Light will really let us shine. Only that will enable us to say enough is never enough!
