Be Your Greater Self

Four or five minutes had passed since I took a seat at the counter in a little hole in the wall restaurant down in Charleston a few years back. I was down there visiting one of my folks at the Medical University. I can’t remember who; but they needed visiting so I was there. We were in the Dog Days at the time so it was hotter than well, you know, and I was tired, overheated, sticky and in a sorry state of mind. So I stepped into this little no name place, with plenty of local license plates in the lot (always a good sign), to cool off a bit and eat my lunch.

My salivary glands shifted into high gear as the smell of southern country cooking hit me. Frying chicken, turnip greens, biscuits and cool banana pudding danced in my head as I sat down at the counter next to a tired looking fella of about my age. He was wearing some dirty Pointer Brand overalls (you can’t do better) and a pleasant enough expression on his face.  

As I sat there several waitresses passed me by without so much as a glance or a howdy do. A cook and two busboys took no notice of my presence at all as they hustled by. It was like I wasn’t even there. Me, Tony Rowell, preacher, missionary, man about town, and altogether good guy, ignored. I did not like this one little bit. It hurt my feelings. My ego was only soothed because the worn-out truck driver sitting next to me was being ignored as well.

Hot, tired and agitated I said to the man, "Maybe this counter is off-limits to all but the locals.”
He slowly turned his gaze on me grinned a little and with just a hint of Rhett Butler in his voice replied, "Maybe they’re just a little short of help this afternoon.”

His reply did not help my attitude one bit, so I fell into a brooding silence. After a time the silence worked its way up under my skin so I figured I would give it another try.

"Maybe they don't want our business," I said.
He turned my way again, minus the grin this time and said, "Maybe they’re just taking care of the folks at those other tables over there.”

The hands on the clock continued to move ever so slowly. I sat there thinking to myself “I have places to go, people to meet, things to do. Don’t they know that?”

 "Maybe they just don't like us," I insisted.
“Oh, they like us just fine.” he said, “Besides the air conditioning feels so good I don't mind waiting." He didn’t even bother looking at me that time.

About then a harried waitress of about forty or forty-five years stopped by to tell us that a pipe had busted inside the kitchen wall and was flooding the place. She apologized profusely for the problem. She even offered the two of us dinner on the house the next time we came in.

I continued to sit there and feel sorry for myself for a time, but my nameless compadre smiled, thanked the waitress and left the place without a word to me. He even had the gall to leave the woman a nice tip in spite of the fact that we had been served nothing but disappointment.

I did not like that man. Three times I had sought his support for my insufferable attitude, and three times he had let me down. So much for Southern hospitality, I thought.

It was only later, after I had gotten down off of my high horse that I realized that my uncooperative friend had chosen to practice what I preach, while I, on the other hand, had forgotten all about my raising.

I hate it when that happens.
 
From time to time I run into my lesser self, and to be honest about it I am not particularly impressed with that person. Given the right set of circumstances, I can be an undeniably horrible witness for Jesus Christ.

I always go away from times like that feeling troubled and apologetic, but I seem to go back to the same trough time and time again. How about you?

  As Father’s Day approaches, I have to admit that I have some regret for the questionable example I have been to my children and grandchildren from time to time. I pray that the Lord adjusts their memories a little to make their father and Pop Pop a bit more compassionate, a bit more loving and a lot more patient.

Sometimes we forget that our Christian witness begins at home. The ones we love the most are both blessed and cursed to see who we really are apart from the person we show the world.

From my experience, that lesser self that we all must deal with raises its ugly head primarily in the home. We bank on one another’s forgiveness because of the love shared, and raise the curtain on our baser selves assuming that all will be forgiven. What we often forget, however, is that others, those most dear to us, are watching and learning and wondering.

In a world such as ours where good examples are few and far between, we dare not waste the opportunities we have to model Christlikeness to the ones we love.

As Father’s Day approaches, don’t leave them to wonder who you are or whose you are. Show them the son that your Father in Heaven has in you. Show them the love that you have for them and leave your lesser self behind.
 
Titus 2:7-8
7 In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness 8 and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about you.
 
Happy Father’s Day,
Pastor Tony
 
  
 
 

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