A Sign of Respect

“Honor everyone”

1 Peter 2:17a

“R-E-S-P-E-C-T,” Aretha Franklin famously sang, “find out what it means to me.”

In our look at character traits desired for students and grown-ups alike, we come this week to the concept of respect. It’s a simple idea, honoring all people because everyone shares the divine spark with us. Yet as is true of all attributes we are seeking to teach and model, it’s the demonstration of respect that is the challenge.

The Bible frequently urges that effort even so. Sometimes, it’s called for when in the presence of one’s elders: ”You shall rise before the aged,” Moses said “and defer to the old.” (Leviticus 19:32)  There is the same encouragement regarding our leaders:“We appeal to you, brother and sisters,” Paul wrote “to respect those who labor among you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:12) “Honor your father and mother,” (Exodus 20:12) God declared in the 10 Commandments, and after recalling that norm centuries later in a New Testament letter, fathers were also told “do not provoke your children to anger.” (Ephesians 6:4)

Thus whether speaking of our elders or those with leadership responsibility, parents or children, Scripture offers a uniform call for respect. Peter, who wasn’t known for brevity in his time as one of the Twelve, put it best as he simply declared “Honor everyone.” (1 Peter 2:17a) 

R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  We know what it is. We also know how often it can be missing. 

For instead of respect, our culture seems to value quick put-downs. Instead of honoring differences, we can surround ourselves with those who think like us, directing ridicule or worse toward those who do not. Instead of nurturing a community where diversity is celebrated, we can create congregations and congressional districts that strive to be more homogenous. Children aren’t the only ones who need to grow in showing respect.  Yet thankfully, many of us have good role models who show the way.  

A few years into my first pastorate I was visiting a church member named Mary.  She was probably in her 70s at the time and one of the saints of that congregation. Mary had taught Sunday School for 50 years and knew the Scriptures well. She had a wonderful sense of humor, too, and was very patient with her young pastor offering much-needed counsel. At some point early in my ministry, I had heard from others that Mary and her husband had lost a son decades earlier when he was very young. Mary had never told me the story, though, until that day in her home.

Her words focused on the struggle she had endured after 7 year-old Charlie dashed into the street without looking. As one who firmly believed in the ability of God to do all kinds of amazing things, Mary told me that one day her grief was so overwhelming she prayed for God to wipe away her memory of Charlie. And to do the same for all of her friends so that the hurt would end. What a desperate request. Shortly after praying those words she laid down for a nap and had a dream.  In it, she was standing at a back window of her home looking out toward a fence gate where Charlie had frequently come and gone.  As she looked she saw Jesus walking toward the house holding Charlie by the hand.

“You know,” she said to me, “I had wanted to see Charlie again so badly, but in that dream I was so excited to see Jesus that I told Charlie to run inside and play with his sister. Jesus never said anything to me in the dream, but it was as if he was saying, ‘Charlie is with me, Mary.  You don’t have to worry.’  I woke up,” she continued “and from that moment was able to go on with a new peace.  I know other people have times they doubt things about heaven and Jesus and all, but I never did after that. Because I knew where Charlie was I was able to go on.”

As you might imagine, I’ve shared Mary’s account more than once in a sermon over the years as it’s an incredible witness to the power of grief, even among those with an abiding faith. It points to the diverse ways God still speaks and comforts us, too. And, at its heart, Mary’s story is a modern-day account that confirms the truth of the resurrection; telling of a Savior who lives still. 

Yet something I had forgotten about that moment until I began working on this blog series was what Mary did after telling me the story.  Finishing that powerful account she smiled and concluded “I just wanted to share that story with you.”  Those words were a gift, too, as I heard them as a sign of respect for her young pastor. Someone who did not know the Bible as well as she. Someone whose life experience was far more limited in scope than her own. One who had not known a loss anywhere close to the devastation of Charlie’s death.  Yet I was her pastor, and she respected me enough to intentionally share that part of her faith journey with me.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T. It makes all the difference still.

Father of all humanity, you do not love all that we do, but you still love us as individuals. Help me reflect that gift fully, by showing respect toward all your children.  Amen.