February 22: Of difficult conversations...

Leviticus 13:1-59

Mark 6:1-29

Psalm 39:1-13

Proverbs 10:10

Today's reading on Leviticus laid the groundwork for some very tough conversations.  Consider: a priest examines someone and concludes they have are sick and God's laws demand they be cast out - from family, life and livelihood.  No room for doubt, no room for second chances till the person was healed.  Just cast out.  That would have been a tough conversation, but one the priest was duty-bound to have, however painful.  Israel wasn't a sinless people - were there those who protested, vociferously perhaps, even violently?  I don't know...but it is easy to imagine how they might have done so.  

The truth is, God calls us to have tough conversations -  often the ones that involve someone we care about doing something they oughtn't.  We are called to have these often - as parents, trying to raise our children properly; as managers and employers, trying to help build an employee's career; as coaches and teachers, trying to get our athletes and students to achieve more than their natural inclinations might permit them.  Some of these conversations are tougher than others.  Consider: when my daughter was a child, I could have a clear, strong conversation with her, and she had to obey.  Today, she is an adult, and the best I can offer is the guidance of advice, example and support (or withdrawal of such).  The conversations I have with her aren't as easy, and I know she has the option to agree and follow, or not. And I know she struggles with many of the concepts I put forward.

If they are difficult, why are we called to have these conversations?  Because of love.  Because we are called to love the people we are meant to have them with.  I love my daughter - so I try to raise her right.  I love my friends - so I try to keep them from doing themselves the harm I fear they will cause.  

You know who else was prepared to have a difficult conversation?  John the Baptist, for one.  He didn't have it with a daughter-turned-adult, he had it with Herod, who had wanted to hear him speak, and whom he told that it was wrong for him, Herod Antipas, to have divorced his wife, and to have married his brother's wife.  Herod didn't take too kindly to that, and had John the Baptist imprisoned and, eventually, beheaded.  Did John know that ticking the ruler off might cost him his life?  I imagine it must have crossed his mind - but he had the tough conversation anyway.  [An interesting side note: John was proven right - the divorce proved bad for Herod Antipas, as his former father in law Aretas then waged war against him, a war that ended in Antipas's death in exile.]

Today, these conversations may not get you beheaded.  But having them may still exact great cost.  The world demands silent acquiescence when it comes to so many topics, an acquiescence premised on misguided compassion, an acquiescence that runs contrary to God's laws which, to the faithful, means those who acquiesce court far worse consequences later on.  Abortion is one; infidelity and extramarital sex are two others.  Even race can often be discussed only in one way.  

How are we to respond?  Thankfully, we have an example in our Lord who, when confronted with sin, rejected the sin but loved the sinner.  For while He did not condemn the adulterous woman, yet still He made clear where He stood on her actions.  "Is there no one left to condemn you?  Then neither do I condemn you.  Go - and sin no more."

Father I pray we know You well enough to know Your will, and care enough for our fellow man to speak that will to them, however difficult, by example and by word, not in condemnation but in love.