Divine Justice and Divine Mercy in Old Testament Times
In the late 60’s I attended a conference in Marathon, Fla, south of Miami. After flying to Miami, I headed in my rental car down Highway 1, south, toward the Keys. Alas, a flat tire occurred. I was alone on a lonely stretch of land with no gas stations and few houses. Cell phones were not yet a part of our daily life, so alerting the rental company to my plight was tenuous.
Eventually, someone stopped; one who elevated my tension by his comments: The first two letters on my license plate alerts others that this is a rental car; therefore the driver is not from this area. Next he informs me, many on this road come from Cuba prisons (his take), that Castro unleashed upon us after the failed Bay of Pigs invasion. (Sounds like the people-haters of today.)
He left; he had an appointment he must keep, but he would call the rental agency when he got home. Right! Sounds like he had been with the men on the road to Jericho, heading down to the Dead Sea, where ones clothes become hardened if one steps into the salty water; hardening all that cover the body. “The longest journey is the one from the head to the heart.” (St Augustine)
In an old antiquated truck, someone else stops. His English equals my own non-English. Yet he, a Samaritan in jeans and sandals, using hand signs, changes my tire, so I would be free to continue my journey. Even refusing money, his smile lightened my apprehension. Hate has taken a backseat to humanity; he does not know me; I am not one of his tribe; he has responded with peace toward an unknown one.
The conference centered on kinesthetic or touch to teach beginning reading skills. The opposite approach is phonics or sounding consonants. My journey from the airport showed both sides of these skills.
By moving the tips of the finger in the rough sand, following the lines of consonants and vowels, the image is imprinted into the brain; memory brings forth the letters as one tries to read. Touching the inner realities of man with sensitivity and love cultivates much fruit in reading and life.
The opposite, sounding repetitive babbling nonsense noise brings only confusion, separation, splinter groups into false thought. Peace, wholeness has become fragmented.
On the sandy shores of the Florida Keys my attitude toward teaching and life changed. When the gospel of the Good Samaritan was read, I had experienced it much as had Paul on his journey on the road to Damascus. Choices were clearly presented.
I could keep my head in the sand, ignoring all who are put into my daily life.
I could choose to show His sacrificial love by giving love to all children and teachers under my care- to show as my friend says, “All children have potential; and love is the guiding action.”
I could join the chorus of rabble-rousers who only complain; never setting their hands to the task of peace and harmony.
I could look beneath the layers of clothing, education, riches, to see the inner souls of all men which are often hidden by the burdens of life.
I could “Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves.”(James1:22)
The sun, the light, the kindness of a stranger, the presence of the Lord in one is found everywhere in our journey to eternal life, if we but hold open our gentle arms, our hands, giving but a cheerful smile. “For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement, namely,”You shall love your neighbor