When Love & Respect Rule

Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. - Philippians 2:3-7

This story was shared with me by someone I admire a great deal. Over the years I first looked at him with admiration. Later, as a sort of "arms length" mentor. As of late, as someone who I have my differences as to style and even content of the messages he delivers, but, a true leader, great man in the faith. This is the story though...

It was a cold, blustery January night in 1973. Senator John Stennis, the venerable hawkish and wildly independent Democrat from Mississippi, drove from Capitol Hill to his northwest Washington home. At 71 he was still the powerful chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee. At precisely 7:40 p.m., Stennis parked his car and started toward his house 50 feet away.

Out of the darkness jumped two young robbers---little more than kids, really. One nervously waved a .22 caliber pistol as the other relieved the senator of his personal possessions. "Now we're going to shoot you anyway," one told Stennis. He did, firing twice.

For six-and-a-half hours, surgeons at Walter Reed Medical Center labored feverishly to repair the damage and save his life.

At 9:15 that same night another politician was driving home from the Senate . . . a man on the opposite end of the political spectrum, a Republican "dove" who had clashed often and sharply with Stennis. His name? Senator Mark Hatfield. The tragedy was reported over Hatfield's car radio that wintry night. Disregarding the strong differences in their convictions and pulled by a deep admiration for the elderly statesman plus a compassion for his plight, Hatfield later admitted:

"I had no skills to offer. But I knew there was something I must do---and that was to go to that hospital and be nearby where I could be helpful, if possible, to the family."

There was untold confusion at the hospital as fellow senators, colleagues, and curious friends and reporters overwhelmed the hospital's telephone operators. Understaffed and disorganized, the hospital crew tried their best but were unable to handle the calls and answer the questions.

Hatfield quickly scoped out the situation, spotted an unattended switchboard, sat down, and voluntarily went to work. Much later---after recovering---Stennis related what he heard happened next: "He told the girls, 'I know how to work one of these; let me help you out.' He continued taking calls until daylight." An exceedingly significant detail is that he never gave anyone his name because someone would surely suspect some political connection, some ulterior motive. Hatfield finally stood up around daylight, stretched, put on his overcoat, and quietly introduced himself to the other operators. "My name is Hatfield . . . happy to help out on behalf of a man I deeply respect," he said as he walked away.

The press couldn't handle that story when it leaked out. It boggled their minds! No way did it make sense for a Republican to give a Democrat the time of day, not to mention several long hours of personal assistance in some anonymous, menial task. I mean, that kind of character went out with the horse and buggy and silent movies and saying "ma'am" and "sir" to teachers. Or did it?

I want to be Mark Hatfield. I pray to be like that.

Politics and personal preferences and opinions on things like military involvement, immigration and health care may vary among members of the body of Christ - even issues such as church polity, theology, and the balance between personal revelation and the Bible . . . but there is a bond deep within that must bind us to one another. It is the glue of authentic love, expressing itself in honesty, compassion, fairness, willingness to support, and (when possible) coming to the aid of another. We should do this personally and in humility. Without strings attached. Committed to the protection and dignity of another human . . . regardless of how somebody votes or what stripe of faith they represent.

So, this happened to me yesterday. A brother in the faith, came to me, in humility and to correct. It was not easy. It was hard for him to do. It was hard for me to hear. He did it. Thank you Richard Casteel.

But, what did it take? Bigness. Being free of grudges, pettiness, vengeance, and prejudice; in love, considering the greater message and the greater one to be served. Seeing another in need---regardless of differences of opinion or the challenge of the moment---and reaching out in solid Christian maturity.

It takes this though: Just because you care.

That's bigness. It's living above labels . . . it's seeing beyond hurts . . . it's caring unconditionally, helping unassumingly.

And therefore it's rare. As rare as a hawk and a dove in the same nest on a cold winter's night in a city not known for love and unmitigated respect ruling the moment.

I remain...

InHISgrip...
~J~