I used to enjoy stories from World War II pilots. You know ... boys love that stuff. I read one account where a flier was doing great work up until the day that he encountered the actual pilot of an enemy aircraft. He shot down a bomber. As the crew scrambled to get out, the pilot got his parachute caught on the tail of the plane. This fighter pilot saw the look on his face, the terror as he realized he was going down with his craft. And the fighter pilot had to stop flying war missions. You see, up until that point, he was shooting targets. There were aircraft targets and ground targets. There were bombers and fighters and tanks and trains ... but there were no people. These were targets.
I read in another account the difficulty at the beginning of the U.S. involvement in World War II with getting soldiers to fight. They trained just fine back in the States with their round targets. They were good shots. But when they sent these boys into battle, they weren't shooting round targets; they were shooting people. It took something extra to pull the trigger then. You see, shooting targets isn't too hard. Shooting people ... that's another thing.
We live much of our lives that way. On the road, we pass other cars (or they pass us). They aren't people. They're cars. They're large, generally metal, often tinted-glass machines that are either in our way or not, that are either traveling safely or not. If they offend us, we might honk at them because "that car shouldn't have done that!" or the like. Rarely do we actually see them as people.
It's not just on the road. Look at that oncoming crowd of people and it's an oncoming crowd, not individuals. We don't greet them. We don't acknowledge them. We move on through the crowd without making a single connection. Eye contact is forbidden, as anyone in the city can tell you. But we're not really too interested in eye contact most of the time anyway because they're a crowd, "others", not actual people. And, of course, there are those ... oh, you know, less-than-attractive types. The spooky looking guy on the train. The overweight woman at the bus stop. Anyone over 50 on the sidewalk. The homeless guy in the doorway. These are particularly to be avoided because they are, after all, "those". They're not people; they're ... odd.
I wonder what would happen if we made a conscious effort to ... make these into people. You know. What would happen if we greeted the people we passed on the sidewalk? What would happen if we made eye contact and smiled at people we passed? Would there be a difference at the grocery store if we gave a cheery "hello" to the cashier when we walked up? If we waved to passing motorists when we were out for a jog, would they cease being automobiles and start being people?
Studies have shown that laughter is indeed good medicine. It seems, in fact, that the simple act of smiling produces valuable, physical effects that make you less stressed. Of course, the Bible concurs. Solomon wrote, "A joyful heart is good medicine" (Prov 17:22). I'm not trying to make us outgoing types that bother everyone they meet. Still, if we are to love our neighbors, if we are to let our light shine among men, I wonder how far a simple smile would help when offered freely to those we meet in passing. I suspect it would go a long way from moving those we encounter every day from things to people.
2 comments:
Excellent points. That driver behaving erratically is a nuisance and curse-worthy, UNTIL I realize it is my grandmother or some other loved one, and then I would feel guilty for thinking such harsh thoughts.
Of course, if our military starts thinking like that, I would suppose it would become all that much more difficult to make kills, you think?
I think the military should think like that. Atrocities like the My Lai Massacre wouldn't occur then, would they?
Actually, your point makes my point on Christians and violence. For instance, Just War Theory begins with "A just war can only be waged as a last resort." It is premised on the basic position that war is horrible and ought to be avoided. In Just War Theory, it assumes that, having failed by any other means, the only possible means to obtain justice and re-establish peace is to stop an aggressor by force.
To me, any force should be last resort. I would obviously argue that it is right and loving to protect my family by killing an attacker if necessary, but I'm not talking about enjoying it. In fact, it was my personal perspective that when I disciplined my children, I never did it out of anger.
You know, I wonder. Is it, perhaps, this bottom line premise that makes me conclude something different than others? I believe that it is possible to be violent, for instance, without being angry, vengeful, or unloving. I know. I've done it. Perhaps it is the ready misapplication of violent means that makes this so bizarre (read "impossible") in the minds of so many?
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