Stop and Smell the People

One of my friends told of a recent experience where she noticed a person she normally would pass by.  She did not know whether the encounter meant anything to the other person, but my friend felt changed by it.  She urged us to just notice people this week.  Look them in the eye. Smile.

It sounds so simple.  But raise your hand if you have ever gone to the grocery store in a hurry just praying that you don't see anyone you notice, blinders on, all business.

Feminism and Christianity both address this subject in their own way.  Feminism asks us to listen to every woman's experience, hearing each voice.  It asks us to fight to end all oppression.  Jesus told us to tend to "the least of these." He let children climb on his lap in the middle of important discussions,  and he acknowledged the sacrifice of a "woman of questionable character."

He touched lepers.

Since the spotlight is on people affected by AIDS this month, I cannot help but make the comparison to leprosy.  We have come light years away from the ignorant stances we took in the 1980's, but there is still a certain fear surrounding this disease.  We have a certain temptation to hold it, and therefore people with it, at arm's length.

We do this with other things.  It runs through my mind each time I cross the threshold of a dirty apartment door that I might carry bedbugs out with me.  I cringe when a kindergartner wipes green snot from their nose and then touches my hand.  There is a certain, involuntary "ew" factor that I get when face to face with the less-than-clean aspects of humanity.

It's a reaction I need to resist.  In Luke 8 "Jesus touched him" are powerful words. The "him" was a leper, required to yell "Unclean!" as he walked down the street.  And people would get out of the way.  Leprosy is not an attractive disease in its end stages, so I imagine not many people really looked at him.  And depending on how long he had the disease, it had probably been that long since he had experienced a human touch.

I'm busy.  You're busy.  We're modern (or postmodern, if you like) women and we have mastered the game of Beat the Clock.  There is no time for unscheduled stop-and-chat.  The dishes might not ever get done if we did that.

Another woman in the conversation I first mentioned responded, "You know, I don't even always stop for my kids.  Sometimes they're up in bed and I ask myself if I really looked into their eyes when they talked to me.  They kind of followed me around and talked at me and I got stuff done."  There was a lot of head nodding to her confession, my head included.

Humans languish without each other.  You probably have heard of the famous study (that would never get past IRB these days) where a group of infants had their physical needs met, but would never get cuddled.  The kids did not develop correctly.

Oppression happens because human beings stop getting noticed for their worth and value.  Sometimes one group of people writes a whole other group off.  Learning how to tune people out de-humanizes the person being tuned out, but the person tuning out loses a bit of their humanity too.  (I am not referring to locking yourself in the bathroom for 10 minutes of quiet sanity).

I extend my friend's challenge to you too.