Peripatetics: The Art of Walking
Monday, August 29, 2005
2 Timothy 3: 14. "You, however..."
I was being intentionally vague.
My mom was being intentionally curious.
She could tell I was getting ready to go out. "Who're you going out with tonight?"
"The guys. Jimmy, Frank and Ronnie." (true)
"What are ya'll going to do?"
"Haven't decided yet, Mom. We'll just meet up at Putt-Putt and go somewhere from there." (again, true)
"I'd really feel a lot better about it if you could give me some sort of plan, son."
"Can't do it, Mom. We haven't decided yet." (Now this line had taken it from truth to lie. We had decided. We were headed off to the party at Kim's house. Parents out of town. Normal teenage shenanigans would be happening and, of course, EVERYBODY was going to be there. Huge party...and all that might entail from a party at someone's house who might have parents out of town)
"Well, YOU'RE not going out until I get a firm plan."
"Mom, I gave you my plan. Meeting at Putt-Putt and then deciding. The guys are counting on me to drive.."
"Not my problem, kid. You're not leaving this house until I've got some firm plans lined up. Times. Locations. The whole deal. In fact, I think I'll call Mrs. Baker to see what she knows."
"MOM! DON'T DO THAT! I told you..."
"Yeah...Putt-Putt then decide. Not an option for you. What's really going on?"
Of course, I didn't want to tell her. I knew she wouldn't let me go.
It was our own little version of "If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump off a cliff?" The only way I would get to that party was to lie. I knew where she stood on unsupervised parties, and where I grew up all the parents knew each other and felt free to call the host of the party to see if we could bring anything. And, the rule was I couldn't go to unsupervised parties. I was out of luck.
The "I don't care what your friends do" mindset was in full force at the McKinney house that night. And not only did I NOT get to go to the party that night I couldn't go out at all. Jimmy and Ron and Frankie didn't get to, either. Moms all called each other. We would be social outcasts. I stayed home to try to come up with some story as to why I couldn't go: fever maybe? No. Late baseball practice? Maybe. Had to work? No. Go with the tired from baseball practice...that might save a little face.
Well, Timothy was facing his own "You, however" moment as we pick up the story in 2 Timothy 3. It turns out that Christians all around him were denouncing their faith. They were being persecuted for their faith. Tough stuff, too. And because the heat was on, they were falling away in record numbers. Paul, in prison on death row, was warning the young protege NOT to do that. To stand firm.
2 Timothy 3: 14 starts with the word "You." Now, it's personal. This isn't some impersonal command given in a generic sense. It's personal to Timothy. It was his own little version of "If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump off a cliff?" There's nothing vague about Timothy's reality: The following instructions are for him.
The second word is "however." It's a word that lets you know a contrast is coming. Whatever was going on before those words, you're supposed to do something different. Maybe even the exact opposite. But there's an example given of other people's behavior, and Timothy is supposed to be different than them. In this case, he's supposed to remain faithful regardless of what persecution happens to him.
And, like most of the time, the wisdom was being given because it was in the best interest of the hearer.
And, my mom's wisdom was in my best interest. Now, I realize that most of the time those things don't turn out into major issues, but in this case it did. There were too many people on the deck at Kim's house. It was one of those decks that attached to the upstairs of the two-story house. The weight of all the people on it caused it to pull away from the house and it fell. A couple of injuries, some small, some a bit larger. The police came. Parents were called. Medical expenses had to be paid by them, etc. My mom was right.
And Paul is right...
...in giving us a view of Timothy's "If your friends jumped off a cliff would you jump off a cliff?" It's in his best interest to have a personal contrast given to him. Tomorrow we'll look at the details of that contrast.
But, for today, what is your usual emotional reaction when people try to give you wisdom from their experience? What thoughts pop into your brain when you're told to do something that might result in discomfort for you?
Brent 5:39 AM
Comments:
Honestly, I still think, "That won't happen to me, I'm smarter." You would think I'd know better after all the hard learning I've done.
When people tell me about wisdom from their experience my first reaction is " yeah but this is different." and i will go do it my way sometimes and the results from their experience would have saved me a lot of trouble. and my response to the 2nd question would be that I almost feel angry towards that person and think "no way! im not putting myself in that situation," and at times i wish the person telling me this would have to go through this before they can tell me to go through it. but thats just me. - Millard
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