PEOPLING LIKE JESUS

If you’ve read some of my other blogs, you know that I am an introvert.  Even if you’ve never met me, you’ve probably met other introverts.  They are the ones who find a quiet corner at the office gathering where they can watch people, but not have to converse, and then they leave early.  They are the ones who more than likely avoid parties with a lot of people, especially if they don’t already know someone.  They are the ones who prefer the solitude and quiet of a library to the noisiness of a popular lunch spot.  They might be the ones who can teach a huge seminar in an adult school, but feel intimidated by having a meal with strangers.

As an introvert, I often find myself making choices that protect my space because I just don’t feel like “peopling” (being with other people).  Peopling, especially in large group settings that require a lot of listening, is exhausting for introverts.  When we’ve had to do a lot of it, we need to withdraw and recharge.

That was my experience a few years ago at our nephew’s wedding. I had just had major surgery a month before, so I was still a bit sore. Having done a lot of listening and smiling, I decided to take a break, walking over a lovely grassy expanse toward a quiet, deserted area in the distance.  As I began my walk, I saw the elderly man who was walking ahead of me, and swerved a bit to my right to avoid him, when he moved in my direction, and avoiding him wasn’t possible. I confess to a little complaining in my mind because I wasn’t going to get the peopling break I thought I needed.

As our paths crossed, we said hello, and exchanged our reasons for being at this particular wedding.  I don’t remember now how the conversation took such a personal turn, but this sweet elderly man began to tell me about how he had recently lost his wife. He was so obviously missing her, and his grief was so raw, that he began to cry as he told me about his wonderful wife and the hole her absence left in his heart.  My heart, so recently protective of my own space, melted with compassion.

I asked him if he knew Jesus and he said he did.  What followed was a precious conversation about the blessings of heaven, where his wife had found the fulfilment of all her earthly hope.  She was with Jesus, looking into His face, breathing the air of heaven.  One day, when Jesus called him home, his wife would be there to welcome him.  Thinking and talking about the promises that are ours in Jesus lifted both our hearts with encouragement and joy that transcended the sorrows of loss.

When we separated, I knew that man would still grieve and miss the presence of his wife, but he would also remember the joy, fulfilled for her, and that awaited him when his own home going grew near.

As I walked back to the wedding reception, I sought the Lord’s forgiveness, for wanting to avoid that man, just because I needed a break from peopling. What a blessing that would have forfeited not meeting him, and what a blessing of encouragement in God’s Word and in His truth, I would have withheld from him, because I just didn’t want to talk to anyone.

During this long time of COVID related isolation, without the distraction of activity, or peopling, the Lord did His sanctifying work in my own heart. Having been greatly blessed through Paul E. Miller’s book, A Praying Life, I was led to read another of his books, Love Walked Among Us.  Quoting many different Scripture passages, Pastor Miller talks about the humility and love of Jesus, evidenced over and over in the ways in which He peopled.

Unlike me, when Jesus was confronted by huge crowds, when what He really planned for was time alone with His disciples, He didn’t resent the intrusion.  He didn’t send them away.  He didn’t complain to His disciples (although they sometimes complained to Him!). Instead He had compassion on them, He patiently taught them, healed their sick, drove out demons. 

When being pressed by a crowd on His way to heal Jairus’ daughter, and a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years, quietly touched the hem of His robe, He stopped to find her.  He looked into her face and loved her.

When a leper asked to be healed, He didn’t recoil in disgust.  He actually touched him, although according to Jewish law, He would consequently be declared unclean and have to absent Himself from the synagogue for a set period of time indicated in the law of Moses.

Instead of doing what I might do, avoid others, when too many people demand my time and attention, Jesus, Paul Miller says, “incarnated” Himself into their lives.  In His humility, in His encounters with those He met, Jesus entered the lives of others, loved them, and served them.

Jesus WAS equal with God because He IS God, (John’s gospel, chapter 10, verse 30, I and the Father are one.), but, instead of insisting on the honor due Him as God, He became like one of us and took upon Himself the form of a servant, even to dying on the cross for our sake.

The Lord spoke to my heart as I looked at Jesus in all these accounts of His interacting with people, and made me realize how often I do exactly the opposite of Jesus, though I am His child. Living in the isolation of COVID has made my natural inclination to isolate easier (not a good thing!), although it has also given me lots of quiet time to hear the Lord speak through His Word.

How many wonderful encounters, like the one with the man at the wedding, have I missed, and do I miss today, because I just do not feel like peopling like Jesus?

Our governor has lifted some of the restrictions that have been in place since this pandemic began in mid-March.  I’ve been an introvert for 7 decades, and don’t expect to be acting like an extrovert anytime soon. But, I am hoping that as we get out more, I’ll have many opportunities to people like Jesus as I interact with neighbors, wait staff at restaurants, shop clerks, office staff, friends. 

Oh Lord, teach me to love and people, just like Jesus.