What To Do If You Fail the Test

When I was old enough to know better, I hit another girl. 

Sure, I was feeling provoked, bullied, and extremely frustrated. I was sitting at my desk working on my assignment for class, writing with my new pencil, and behind me, two girls were looking for trouble. One of the girls used to be my best friend, but had lately taken up with the second girl, who had a history of vicious interactions with anyone outside of her friend group (that would be me and a select few others). They had apparently finished the assignment (or decided not to complete it) and they occupied themselves with keeping up a running commentary about me.

I honestly don't remember what they were saying; I only remember the accompanying feelings. Resentment and hurt were nearly blinding me, and it was taking all my willpower to try to ignore them, concentrate on my assignment, and not cry.

A few moments later, my new pencil I was using was whisked out of my hand, yanked away by my erstwhile friend. I reached for it, but she held it away, showing it to her friend, taunting me with it. Looking back now, I guess she found humor in the situation; maybe she thought she was just teasing me and I was taking it too seriously. I don't know. But it didn't go over well.

I held out my hand and asked for it back, but she continued to hold it out of my reach, and she and the other girl laughed at my increasing efforts to swipe for it. She was too quick.

My temper boiled over. In my frustration, I whacked her with my forearm. It was meant to be a bit of a push out of the way while I reached for the pencil, but it ended up being more of a hit. It shocked her into stillness, and I grabbed the suddenly-accessible pencil. 

She and the other girl stared at me with open mouths. I immediately regretted what I'd done; I knew I'd gone too far. Before I could turn back around, she slammed her fist into my ear. It hurt, really bad. I saw stars for a second. I'd never hit a person before, and I certainly had never been hit before -- other than the normal sibling tussles I'd had with my brother, and none of those had ever hurt like this.

Somehow, all this drama happened in the space of a few moments, and it escaped the notice of our teacher, who was working his way down an aisle across the room and didn't see anything. I didn't want to be a tattletale, so I turned around and bent over my paper, but I couldn't hold back the tears as I listened to the girls' scathing commentary now directed at my back.

You might read this story and say I did the right thing. Or you might read it and say, yeah, girl, you messed up.

In reading Exodus 21 this morning, I realized that this girl and I were following Mosaic Law. :) 

This chapter is full of detailed instructions for incidentals: "What to do if..." "If a bull gores a man or a woman to death, the bull must be stoned to death, and its meat must not be eaten." "If a man uncovers a pit or digs one and fails to cover it and an ox or a donkey falls into it, the owner of the pit must pay for the loss; he must pay its owner, and the dead animal will be his." Etc.

When I read some of these specifics, I get a glimpse of this ancient culture, and while I don't have much understanding of it (Mosaic law sets up "What to do if" scenarios for slaves, etc,), I see that such a set-up was necessary in order to bring about structure and organization to this nation. Moses is the judge and lawgiver of the nation of Israel, acting as the mediator between the Israelite people and God, and when the people bring him their questions, Moses asks God for instructions. God gives Moses the answers, which he relays to the Israelite people.

This laying out of the law is the standardization of all these questions, a giant treatise that perhaps could have been titled: "What to do if..."

So "what to do if..." someone needles you continually behind your back and in your hearing, and then steals your pencil, so you hit that person "by accident?" (Maybe this is where intentionality plays such an important part in our modern-day laws; my actions and my intentions were two completely different things in this scenario). And "what to do if..." the person who is hit -- hits back in retaliation?

Mosaic Law says: "But if there is serious injury, you are to take life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise" (Exodus 21:23-25). In other words, I lashed out -- so she had every right to lash back.

Right?

Except Jesus has something rather specific to say about this in a passage that I had already memorized by the time this blessed event in my classroom happened. In other words, I did know better. 

Jesus says: "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, 'Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you" (Matthew 5:38-42).

If someone wants to borrow your pencil, give to her a piece of paper to write on as well.

Granted, this situation was a little different; I don't think she wanted to borrow my pencil. She was looking for a reaction. 

And she got it. 

What if, instead of reacting the way I did, I had done something different? I could have asked a little more nicely for a little longer, maybe. I could have shrugged and pulled another pencil out of my bag and continued working. I could have gone completely against my frustration and inclination to lash out and done the exact opposite (as Jesus instructs us to do in the Matthew passage): "All right, enjoy the pencil. It's yours." Not in a snide, passive-aggressive way, but in a genuine flipping of the situation.

Paul reiterates this concept of flipping the situation in Romans 12:17-21: "Do not repay anyone evil for evil [I retaliated]. Be careful [I wasn't careful] to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you [I didn't have to answer for the actions of the two girls doing the bullying, but I did have to answer for my actions], live at peace with everyone [I wasn't]. Do not take revenge, my friends [I can safely say, hitting the girl was vengeful], but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: 'It is Mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord. On the contrary: 'If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

In other words, this was a test that I failed miserably.

Full-disclosure? Bullying infuriates me, probably because I was the victim too many times. I see red, my blood pressure gets going, and it's hard to think straight when I witness it, whether it's directed at me or not.

I'd love to wrap this story up with a nice little happy ending. "We talked, we asked forgiveness from each other, we hugged, we were respectful of each other from there on out." 

If you want your happy ending, stop reading there. If you want to dive deeper with me, here's what really happened, and it still breaks my heart:

When I lashed out, grabbed my pencil, and she hit me back, I whirled around, hunched over my seatwork, and began writing again. The tears flowed, and I let my hair curtain around my face so no one would see.

I was well-known at that school for being one of the only Mennonites in attendance there, and a distinctive marker that separated me from my classmates was that our family held a faith stance of nonresistance. Pacifism. Refusal to take up arms or show violence to anyone, choosing to serve our enemies instead. This is a very superficial label that covers a deep canyon of philosophies and introspection regarding this stance.

Nevertheless, our class had had long discussions on the just-war theory and pacifism, and I was often called on for my perspective, because it was so different from the points of view of the rest of my classmates and teachers.

I didn't like to be in the spotlight, but I tried my best to answer questions as they came up based on what I believed and what I had read in the Word. I knew I was a witness for a different way of thinking, and while I didn't enjoy being the "standard-bearer," I was glad to "let my light shine." I hoped I was making a difference. It was (and still is) important to me that my life pointed to Jesus. Always, always.

So when I turned my back on the girls, I remember the words that stuck in my heart like poisoned barbs. The sarcasm in her voice flayed. "Yeah, you're a really great pacifist. Way to stand up for what you believe." And the other girl's rejoinder: "Seriously."

It crushed me, even more than the bullying. I had let one mishap ruin my carefully cultivated testimony. One moment of fury and lashing out had tarnished what I had tried so hard to maintain.

I'd failed the test.

Here I sit, many years later, with hands still shaking in empathy with my old-enough-to-know-better self, and I think I've finally learned my lesson:

When I can't -- He can.

When I can't -- He. can.
And when I do it anyway -- He forgives.
And when I say, But I'll mess up again -- He says, Don't let go of My hand.
And when I cry -- He wipes my tears.

What to do if I reach the end of my rope... and let go? And mess up? And hit back? 

"When [Peter] saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink, cried out, 'Lord, save me!' Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. 'You of little faith,' He said, 'why did you doubt?'" (Matthew 14:30-31)

Lord, save me! 

And the same hand that formed man in His image from the dust of the ground, that took a rib from Adam's side and formed the first woman...

The same hand that pulled Peter from the water when he took his eyes off of his Master...

The same hand that was stretched out and had spikes driven through it into the wood of a splintery cross...

That same hand catches me where I'm drowning in all my failures and it holds me close to keep me safe.