The Love Ethic
Stories
Object:
Contents
"The Love Ethic" by Keith Wagner
"The True Business of the Church" by Keith Wagner
"The Cloak" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * *
The Love Ethic
by Keith Wagner
Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18
In this third book of Moses we have a list of laws that are similar to the Ten Commandments. They are concerned with holiness and behavior. Some of them, for example, verses 9 and 10, have to do with economic justice. In other words, the yield from crops was to be shared with the poor. The other laws have to do with love of neighbor.
The words "you shall love your neighbor as yourself" are also found in Luke 10:27, when the lawyer asked Jesus what he should do to inherit eternal life. These words are known as the "golden rule," which originated in the Torah. Jesus advocated love just as Moses did for the Israelites.
Several years ago Hurricane Katrina delivered death and destruction to the city and surrounding area of New Orleans. As a nation we were slow to respond. We underestimated the amount of devastation in the life of a major US city. The bottom line was that we weren't very good neighbors. When Hurricane Eileen came ashore on the Eastern Seaboard the storm was less severe, but that time the nation was better prepared. Although fewer people perished, the majority of the residents were saved due to the infrastructure of the community.
In other words, there was a greater "love ethic" that prevailed. The intensity of the hurricane was not minimized and the storm was treated with a genuine sense of urgency. There was no procrastination, no "let's wait and see." The community took action.
We adults do not always respond in loving ways. When it comes to love, children are often our best teachers.
Billy Harley once told the story about a children's T-ball game he observed. A young girl named Tracey ran with a limp. She couldn't hit the ball to save her life. But everyone cheered her on. In the last game of the season Tracy did the unthinkable. She finally got a hit. Her coach hollered at her to run the bases. She made it to first base and her coach told her to keep going. She then made it to second base. Everyone in the stands was encouraging Tracy to keep running.
While running to third base Tracy noticed an old dog that had loped onto the field. It was sitting in the baseline between third and home. Tracy was just seconds away from a home run. She then made a monumental decision. She knelt down and hugged the dog. Tracy never made it to home plate. But the fans cheered her anyway. She had made her priorities clear. Love was more important than winning.
Although we know that love is the basic tenet of our faith there is always need for improvement. We can do better. More people can be helped. The mission of the church has to adapt to the current needs of the times and in ways that are realistic. We have to use every available resource and especially the resources of modern times. It's about loving our neighbors and even God's creatures.
We will be challenged to love others on a daily basis and there are many needs. By making the ethic of love our goal we are being faithful to the teachings of Moses and Jesus.
The True Business of the Church
by Keith Wagner
1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23
Paul was writing to the church at Corinth where there were divisions and conflict. Unfortunately the talents and gifts of many individuals were not being recognized. Those tensions threatened the unity of the church. He reminded them that they were a temple of God where God's Spirit was in their midst.
In our society we love our structures and therefore we put an abundance of energy and resources into our institutions. We are also turf conscious. The structures we build are in the form of fences, storage, and space. I'm speaking figuratively not literally. In other words we build fences by resisting the opportunity to get to know people around us. We stockpile resources to give us a sense of security. We want more space in order to keep strangers at a distance.
This behavior prevents us from venturing out, taking risks, or breaking away from our comfort zones. Rather than build relationships we build empires. Instead of living in faith we live in fear; afraid to meet new people, resisting opportunities that stretch us, and living in our own little worlds that we have created, thus forgetting the Creator.
To truly be the church where the Spirit of God is in our midst we have to take some risks and not be consumed with being successful. Paul wanted his listeners to realize that everyone has talent and their talents needed to be included in the building of the church.
Jenny Lind was known as the "Swedish Nightingale." She was a very successful opera singer. She became very wealthy, a true artist in her field. But in the pinnacle of her career she left the stage never to return.
People wondered why she gave up such fame and fortune. But Lind left it all and moved into a little house by the sea. One day a friend found her on the beach. She was reading her Bible and glancing at the sunset. "How is it that you abandoned the stage at the height of your success?" her friend asked.
She responded by saying, "When every day it made me think less of this (laying her finger on her Bible) and nothing at all of that (pointing to the sunset), what else could I do?
Jenny Lind was caring for her soul, just as Paul was caring for the soul of the church. She realized there is much more to life than a career, fortune, and fame.
We also care for our soul by living outside the box. We will never be challenged as long as we stay within our comfort zones.
A young man was trying to earn a living in his hometown of Kansas City. He was striving to succeed as an illustrator. He approached every newspaper and magazine in the city to sell his cartoons. But each editor turned him down telling him he should pursue another kind of work.
One day a minister hired him part-time to do advertising for his church. It was not exactly the opportunity of a lifetime but his efforts to sell his cartoons were going nowhere. He started working from a small shed behind the church, making drawings and idly sketching any object that caught his eye.
One of the objects he drew was a mouse, scampering near the shed. Eventually the drawing of the mouse led the young artist to create one of the most famous cartoon characters in the world. Walt Disney created "Mickey Mouse."
Our souls can be transformed when we are willing to live outside the box and go where we have never been before. Our lives become more fulfilled when we are free to use the gifts and talents God has given us.
One time the executive staff of a railroad was engaged in a brainstorming session about how to maximize the success of their business. Their talk focused on railroad technology and infrastructures, but they weren't breaking any new ground until someone said, "They weren't in the railroad business they were in the transportation business. So it is with the church. We're not likely to break new ground as long as we focus on being in the church business. Our business is to be followers of Jesus Christ and utilize everyone's individual gifts and talents.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
The Cloak
by Keith Hewitt
Matthew 5:38-48
Paul paused just inside the door, giving it time to close and latch against the cold, and giving himself time to survey the establishment while his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The bar, a dark wood affair with the sleek lines of a boxcar, was off to his right. Immediately in front of it there was a scattering of tables and chairs, and on the wall opposite a row of dimly-lit booths -- about half of them inhabited, from what he could tell. There was a couple sharing the same seat in one of them, two men sitting across from one another carrying on an earnest discussion as they hunched forward in their seats, and two other couples who did not share seats, but whose relationship seemed to be more of a transactional nature.
The jukebox at the back was throbbing something with too much bass, and at the corner of the bar closest to the door there was a TV mounted to the wall, tuned to a baseball game nobody seemed to care about; it was almost inaudible over the music, and only a cheer from the stands told him the volume actually was turned up. Whatever had happened on the diamond didn't seem to affect anyone in the bar.
It smelled of stale beer and cigarettes -- a tribute to the staying power of cigarette smoke absorbed by the wood paneling, the bar, and the furniture, as it had been at least two years since the ban on public smoking became law. He sneezed suddenly, reacting to the smell, and about half the eyes in the place turn toward him. They scanned him without any real interest, and when nothing else happened--just what they might have been expecting, he didn't know -- they turned back to whatever they'd been doing.
One good thing, he thought, if anybody from church sees me here, they're not going to tell anybody. This wasn't the sort of place people talked about going to... not people he knew, anyway.
His eyes settled on the booth in the far corner, providentially as far from the front door as you could get and still be in the same room, and next to the short hallway that he guessed led to restrooms and a back exit. A man sat there, alone, seemingly lost in the tumbler in front of him on the table -- but as Paul started to make his way back toward the booth, threading his way between the tables, the man visibly stiffened, shoulders squaring, spine straightening, one foot inching out and planting, as though to provide solid footing for a quick movement.
Paul slid into the booth across from him, said nothing while the man looked him over, one hand casually playing with his glass -- poised to either hoist it for a drink, or throw it in Paul's face. There was a long moment of silence... well, of not speaking, anyway, as the jukebox forestalled any chance of silence. Finally, the man leaned forward and said, "You need something?" Intended to be coolly casual, he had to nearly shout to be heard.
Paul hesitated, flashed incongruously to the "Cone of Silence" from the old Get Smart TV show, and smiled in spite of the nervous flutter in his gut.
"Somethin' funny?" the man demanded loudly, but barely audible in the din.
Paul shook his head, and leaned forward, himself. "Sorry. My name is --"
The man held up a hand. "I don't care."
Paul hesitated, started again, "But you probably know my --"
"I. Don't. Care." The man waved toward the bar with one hand. "Does this look like a social club? I don't care about your name, and you don't know mine. That makes me happy. Now what do you want?"
This isn't going the way I thought it would, Paul thought nervously, then took a deep breath and plunged forward. "Okay, then. I guess I'll get right to it. I guess I should start by saying I've been looking for you, even though I don't know your name. I saw you a couple days ago... do you remember? We were on the El platform. I was getting on the Red Line, you were just standing there -- and then as I was getting on the train, you brushed up against me. It was soft -- gentle, almost -- but you did it. I happened to look up just then, and I saw you. Do you remember?"
He did! Paul realized and the butterflies surged.
"No," the man said, started to slide out. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, but you do." He reached across, laid his hand on the man's wrist; the man tried to shrug it off, but Paul grabbed more tightly as he continued. "I know you remember. The funny thing is, I didn't even really give it a thought -- not at all -- until I got home after work and found out my wallet was missing. I thought I'd just lost it, mislaid it, or dropped it -- and then the bank sent me this photo from an ATM."
With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded inkjet photo, opened it with a snapping twist of his hand and lay it on the table. The figure on the photo was looking down, but hadn't quite figured the angle properly -- his face was recognizable, inarguably the man in the booth. The man glanced at it and then looked away.
"You took $500 from my checking account. My daily limit," Paul continued.
The man looked down at the picture, again, then his eyes flickered to Paul before looking past him. "Your birthday is not a good PIN."
Paul shrugged. "I know that, now. And the card is canceled, of course -- along with all the others in my wallet. Other than a charge, here, on my Visa card, you didn't have time to do anything else." Paul looked around, then back at the man. "What on earth could you buy here for a $150? It doesn't seem like the sort of establishment that keeps high end liquor."
The man smirked. "It's not. But there's some high end regulars, if you know what I mean. You buy a beer, the charge on the card is $150, and the bartender gives $125 in cash to the other customer. Everybody's happy. I'm real happy, for half an hour."
Paul took a deep breath. Are you sure you want to do this? He shrugged inwardly. You've come this far. "I see."
"Yeah. So are you a cop? Or are the cops outside?"
"I'm not. And they aren't."
"Then I think we're done here. I ain't got your money, anymore. I had several -- ah -- business debts that I had to settle. So if that's what you're here for, you can go whistle. If it's about the charge on your Visa, I might be able to arrange a little payback for you, if that'll get you off my back. Dougie's in no hurry to have the cops come sniffing around his business." He saw a moment's hesitation in Paul's eyes, guessed at what it meant, and added, "Nice girl. Studying to be a dental assistant. So she says."
"No... thank you." Paul reached inside his coat pocket, and the man drew back -- would have gotten up if Paul hadn't still had a grip on him -- then stopped when the hand came out with nothing but an envelope. He lay it on the table, pushed it toward the man. "I want you to have this."
"A summons ain't going to do you any good."
"It's not a summons."
"Whatever it is, it's no good," the man said tensely. This situation seemed to be getting stranger by the moment, spiraling out of control. He'd never had anything like this happen before.
"Oh, it is good, I assure you," Paul said, and allowed himself a brief, tight smile. "It's a cashier's check for what was left in my checking account, made out to cash. I didn't have your name, so I couldn't have them make it out to you, but I guarantee you, it's good."
The man looked down at the blank envelope, and the expression on his face might have been that of a man looking at a rattlesnake coiled to strike. "What is this? What are you doing?"
"As I said, you reached the daily limit on my account, so you weren't able to clean it out. I assume you saw that, when you checked the balance. So I wanted you to have what was left. I assumed that if you needed money badly enough to steal, then maybe it was a good idea to just give you what was left in the account."
"What kind of stunt is this?" the man demanded angrily. "Did Dougie put you up to this?" He cast a murderous glance at the bartender.
"Look, you recognize my face -- I knew it when I sat down here. You know who I am. Dougie wouldn't have any way of knowing who you'd stolen from. No, it's not him."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"I told you -- I figured maybe it would help you out. And I think it's the right thing to do. You know --" he smiled, "Jesus said turn the other cheek... if someone wants to take your coat, give them your cloak, as well. So there's my cloak. You may as well take it -- it's a cashier's check, I can't get it back."
The man just stared at him. "You're nuts."
"No-o," Paul said slowly, "just kind of rearranging my priorities. I am putting things in Jesus' order instead of mine. So I hope this helps." He released the man's wrist and slid out of the booth. "I really do hope you'll take the check. There's no trick involved." Then, without giving the man time to respond, he turned and walked away.
The man waited until the door closed behind his visitor before he took the envelope and opened it -- and found, indeed, a cashier's check. The amount made his eyes bug a little, and he quickly tucked it back into the envelope, then folded it and stuck it in his pocket.
Turn the other cheek, he thought, staring at the empty seat across from him. Who lives like that?
Talk about messed up priorities...
He was still puzzling over it at closing time.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
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StoryShare, February 23, 2014, issue.
Copyright 2014 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"The Love Ethic" by Keith Wagner
"The True Business of the Church" by Keith Wagner
"The Cloak" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * *
The Love Ethic
by Keith Wagner
Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18
In this third book of Moses we have a list of laws that are similar to the Ten Commandments. They are concerned with holiness and behavior. Some of them, for example, verses 9 and 10, have to do with economic justice. In other words, the yield from crops was to be shared with the poor. The other laws have to do with love of neighbor.
The words "you shall love your neighbor as yourself" are also found in Luke 10:27, when the lawyer asked Jesus what he should do to inherit eternal life. These words are known as the "golden rule," which originated in the Torah. Jesus advocated love just as Moses did for the Israelites.
Several years ago Hurricane Katrina delivered death and destruction to the city and surrounding area of New Orleans. As a nation we were slow to respond. We underestimated the amount of devastation in the life of a major US city. The bottom line was that we weren't very good neighbors. When Hurricane Eileen came ashore on the Eastern Seaboard the storm was less severe, but that time the nation was better prepared. Although fewer people perished, the majority of the residents were saved due to the infrastructure of the community.
In other words, there was a greater "love ethic" that prevailed. The intensity of the hurricane was not minimized and the storm was treated with a genuine sense of urgency. There was no procrastination, no "let's wait and see." The community took action.
We adults do not always respond in loving ways. When it comes to love, children are often our best teachers.
Billy Harley once told the story about a children's T-ball game he observed. A young girl named Tracey ran with a limp. She couldn't hit the ball to save her life. But everyone cheered her on. In the last game of the season Tracy did the unthinkable. She finally got a hit. Her coach hollered at her to run the bases. She made it to first base and her coach told her to keep going. She then made it to second base. Everyone in the stands was encouraging Tracy to keep running.
While running to third base Tracy noticed an old dog that had loped onto the field. It was sitting in the baseline between third and home. Tracy was just seconds away from a home run. She then made a monumental decision. She knelt down and hugged the dog. Tracy never made it to home plate. But the fans cheered her anyway. She had made her priorities clear. Love was more important than winning.
Although we know that love is the basic tenet of our faith there is always need for improvement. We can do better. More people can be helped. The mission of the church has to adapt to the current needs of the times and in ways that are realistic. We have to use every available resource and especially the resources of modern times. It's about loving our neighbors and even God's creatures.
We will be challenged to love others on a daily basis and there are many needs. By making the ethic of love our goal we are being faithful to the teachings of Moses and Jesus.
The True Business of the Church
by Keith Wagner
1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23
Paul was writing to the church at Corinth where there were divisions and conflict. Unfortunately the talents and gifts of many individuals were not being recognized. Those tensions threatened the unity of the church. He reminded them that they were a temple of God where God's Spirit was in their midst.
In our society we love our structures and therefore we put an abundance of energy and resources into our institutions. We are also turf conscious. The structures we build are in the form of fences, storage, and space. I'm speaking figuratively not literally. In other words we build fences by resisting the opportunity to get to know people around us. We stockpile resources to give us a sense of security. We want more space in order to keep strangers at a distance.
This behavior prevents us from venturing out, taking risks, or breaking away from our comfort zones. Rather than build relationships we build empires. Instead of living in faith we live in fear; afraid to meet new people, resisting opportunities that stretch us, and living in our own little worlds that we have created, thus forgetting the Creator.
To truly be the church where the Spirit of God is in our midst we have to take some risks and not be consumed with being successful. Paul wanted his listeners to realize that everyone has talent and their talents needed to be included in the building of the church.
Jenny Lind was known as the "Swedish Nightingale." She was a very successful opera singer. She became very wealthy, a true artist in her field. But in the pinnacle of her career she left the stage never to return.
People wondered why she gave up such fame and fortune. But Lind left it all and moved into a little house by the sea. One day a friend found her on the beach. She was reading her Bible and glancing at the sunset. "How is it that you abandoned the stage at the height of your success?" her friend asked.
She responded by saying, "When every day it made me think less of this (laying her finger on her Bible) and nothing at all of that (pointing to the sunset), what else could I do?
Jenny Lind was caring for her soul, just as Paul was caring for the soul of the church. She realized there is much more to life than a career, fortune, and fame.
We also care for our soul by living outside the box. We will never be challenged as long as we stay within our comfort zones.
A young man was trying to earn a living in his hometown of Kansas City. He was striving to succeed as an illustrator. He approached every newspaper and magazine in the city to sell his cartoons. But each editor turned him down telling him he should pursue another kind of work.
One day a minister hired him part-time to do advertising for his church. It was not exactly the opportunity of a lifetime but his efforts to sell his cartoons were going nowhere. He started working from a small shed behind the church, making drawings and idly sketching any object that caught his eye.
One of the objects he drew was a mouse, scampering near the shed. Eventually the drawing of the mouse led the young artist to create one of the most famous cartoon characters in the world. Walt Disney created "Mickey Mouse."
Our souls can be transformed when we are willing to live outside the box and go where we have never been before. Our lives become more fulfilled when we are free to use the gifts and talents God has given us.
One time the executive staff of a railroad was engaged in a brainstorming session about how to maximize the success of their business. Their talk focused on railroad technology and infrastructures, but they weren't breaking any new ground until someone said, "They weren't in the railroad business they were in the transportation business. So it is with the church. We're not likely to break new ground as long as we focus on being in the church business. Our business is to be followers of Jesus Christ and utilize everyone's individual gifts and talents.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
The Cloak
by Keith Hewitt
Matthew 5:38-48
Paul paused just inside the door, giving it time to close and latch against the cold, and giving himself time to survey the establishment while his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The bar, a dark wood affair with the sleek lines of a boxcar, was off to his right. Immediately in front of it there was a scattering of tables and chairs, and on the wall opposite a row of dimly-lit booths -- about half of them inhabited, from what he could tell. There was a couple sharing the same seat in one of them, two men sitting across from one another carrying on an earnest discussion as they hunched forward in their seats, and two other couples who did not share seats, but whose relationship seemed to be more of a transactional nature.
The jukebox at the back was throbbing something with too much bass, and at the corner of the bar closest to the door there was a TV mounted to the wall, tuned to a baseball game nobody seemed to care about; it was almost inaudible over the music, and only a cheer from the stands told him the volume actually was turned up. Whatever had happened on the diamond didn't seem to affect anyone in the bar.
It smelled of stale beer and cigarettes -- a tribute to the staying power of cigarette smoke absorbed by the wood paneling, the bar, and the furniture, as it had been at least two years since the ban on public smoking became law. He sneezed suddenly, reacting to the smell, and about half the eyes in the place turn toward him. They scanned him without any real interest, and when nothing else happened--just what they might have been expecting, he didn't know -- they turned back to whatever they'd been doing.
One good thing, he thought, if anybody from church sees me here, they're not going to tell anybody. This wasn't the sort of place people talked about going to... not people he knew, anyway.
His eyes settled on the booth in the far corner, providentially as far from the front door as you could get and still be in the same room, and next to the short hallway that he guessed led to restrooms and a back exit. A man sat there, alone, seemingly lost in the tumbler in front of him on the table -- but as Paul started to make his way back toward the booth, threading his way between the tables, the man visibly stiffened, shoulders squaring, spine straightening, one foot inching out and planting, as though to provide solid footing for a quick movement.
Paul slid into the booth across from him, said nothing while the man looked him over, one hand casually playing with his glass -- poised to either hoist it for a drink, or throw it in Paul's face. There was a long moment of silence... well, of not speaking, anyway, as the jukebox forestalled any chance of silence. Finally, the man leaned forward and said, "You need something?" Intended to be coolly casual, he had to nearly shout to be heard.
Paul hesitated, flashed incongruously to the "Cone of Silence" from the old Get Smart TV show, and smiled in spite of the nervous flutter in his gut.
"Somethin' funny?" the man demanded loudly, but barely audible in the din.
Paul shook his head, and leaned forward, himself. "Sorry. My name is --"
The man held up a hand. "I don't care."
Paul hesitated, started again, "But you probably know my --"
"I. Don't. Care." The man waved toward the bar with one hand. "Does this look like a social club? I don't care about your name, and you don't know mine. That makes me happy. Now what do you want?"
This isn't going the way I thought it would, Paul thought nervously, then took a deep breath and plunged forward. "Okay, then. I guess I'll get right to it. I guess I should start by saying I've been looking for you, even though I don't know your name. I saw you a couple days ago... do you remember? We were on the El platform. I was getting on the Red Line, you were just standing there -- and then as I was getting on the train, you brushed up against me. It was soft -- gentle, almost -- but you did it. I happened to look up just then, and I saw you. Do you remember?"
He did! Paul realized and the butterflies surged.
"No," the man said, started to slide out. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, but you do." He reached across, laid his hand on the man's wrist; the man tried to shrug it off, but Paul grabbed more tightly as he continued. "I know you remember. The funny thing is, I didn't even really give it a thought -- not at all -- until I got home after work and found out my wallet was missing. I thought I'd just lost it, mislaid it, or dropped it -- and then the bank sent me this photo from an ATM."
With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded inkjet photo, opened it with a snapping twist of his hand and lay it on the table. The figure on the photo was looking down, but hadn't quite figured the angle properly -- his face was recognizable, inarguably the man in the booth. The man glanced at it and then looked away.
"You took $500 from my checking account. My daily limit," Paul continued.
The man looked down at the picture, again, then his eyes flickered to Paul before looking past him. "Your birthday is not a good PIN."
Paul shrugged. "I know that, now. And the card is canceled, of course -- along with all the others in my wallet. Other than a charge, here, on my Visa card, you didn't have time to do anything else." Paul looked around, then back at the man. "What on earth could you buy here for a $150? It doesn't seem like the sort of establishment that keeps high end liquor."
The man smirked. "It's not. But there's some high end regulars, if you know what I mean. You buy a beer, the charge on the card is $150, and the bartender gives $125 in cash to the other customer. Everybody's happy. I'm real happy, for half an hour."
Paul took a deep breath. Are you sure you want to do this? He shrugged inwardly. You've come this far. "I see."
"Yeah. So are you a cop? Or are the cops outside?"
"I'm not. And they aren't."
"Then I think we're done here. I ain't got your money, anymore. I had several -- ah -- business debts that I had to settle. So if that's what you're here for, you can go whistle. If it's about the charge on your Visa, I might be able to arrange a little payback for you, if that'll get you off my back. Dougie's in no hurry to have the cops come sniffing around his business." He saw a moment's hesitation in Paul's eyes, guessed at what it meant, and added, "Nice girl. Studying to be a dental assistant. So she says."
"No... thank you." Paul reached inside his coat pocket, and the man drew back -- would have gotten up if Paul hadn't still had a grip on him -- then stopped when the hand came out with nothing but an envelope. He lay it on the table, pushed it toward the man. "I want you to have this."
"A summons ain't going to do you any good."
"It's not a summons."
"Whatever it is, it's no good," the man said tensely. This situation seemed to be getting stranger by the moment, spiraling out of control. He'd never had anything like this happen before.
"Oh, it is good, I assure you," Paul said, and allowed himself a brief, tight smile. "It's a cashier's check for what was left in my checking account, made out to cash. I didn't have your name, so I couldn't have them make it out to you, but I guarantee you, it's good."
The man looked down at the blank envelope, and the expression on his face might have been that of a man looking at a rattlesnake coiled to strike. "What is this? What are you doing?"
"As I said, you reached the daily limit on my account, so you weren't able to clean it out. I assume you saw that, when you checked the balance. So I wanted you to have what was left. I assumed that if you needed money badly enough to steal, then maybe it was a good idea to just give you what was left in the account."
"What kind of stunt is this?" the man demanded angrily. "Did Dougie put you up to this?" He cast a murderous glance at the bartender.
"Look, you recognize my face -- I knew it when I sat down here. You know who I am. Dougie wouldn't have any way of knowing who you'd stolen from. No, it's not him."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"I told you -- I figured maybe it would help you out. And I think it's the right thing to do. You know --" he smiled, "Jesus said turn the other cheek... if someone wants to take your coat, give them your cloak, as well. So there's my cloak. You may as well take it -- it's a cashier's check, I can't get it back."
The man just stared at him. "You're nuts."
"No-o," Paul said slowly, "just kind of rearranging my priorities. I am putting things in Jesus' order instead of mine. So I hope this helps." He released the man's wrist and slid out of the booth. "I really do hope you'll take the check. There's no trick involved." Then, without giving the man time to respond, he turned and walked away.
The man waited until the door closed behind his visitor before he took the envelope and opened it -- and found, indeed, a cashier's check. The amount made his eyes bug a little, and he quickly tucked it back into the envelope, then folded it and stuck it in his pocket.
Turn the other cheek, he thought, staring at the empty seat across from him. Who lives like that?
Talk about messed up priorities...
He was still puzzling over it at closing time.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
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StoryShare, February 23, 2014, issue.
Copyright 2014 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
