Not a Threat

Love does no harm to a neighbor, so love is the fulfillment of the law.
-Romans 13:10

This morning on a short prayer walk on my wooded trail, I encountered a deer. As I turned around to head back on the trail toward my house, I looked up and saw it directly in front of me-- facing me, frozen in place. This is a pretty common occurrence in my life. 

We both stood motionless for about three minutes. Its eyes were fixed on me, ears perked up. Over the years, I've learned that this is the testing period, where a deer seeks to perceive if I'm a threat. Sometimes it will stomp its foot to see which way I will move. But it never takes its eyes off of me. 

I turned to my side, eyes toward the ground, exposing my flank. This is a posture of vulnerability to a flight animal. No longer was this a head-to-head encounter. I kicked the ground gently, rummaging through the pine needles and leaves with my foot, signaling that I was simply dwelling in the woods, with no intent to harm. I glanced out in the opposite direction. I took a few slow steps forward and then backward. Then I looked over my shoulder at the deer, and took a few short steps toward her. After a few more moments, she dropped her head, lowered her ears, and gently began foraging again, walking away. She determined I was not a threat. 

I like when deer slowly walk away from me in the woods without running or shooting their white tails up. It shows that they don't feel endangered by my presence. In that moment, they know I'm not a threat to them. 

It made me consider our posture in the world as disciples of Jesus. It's impossible to miss the uptick in anxiety and hyper-vigilance among people. We humans are very wary of each other these days. 

People encounter us and wonder if we are going to harm them--and we often expect that others may be a threat to us as well. Our eyes and ears are constantly perked up, not to mention our hearts and minds. This has become especially true for many dear ones who are not in the majority culture in the US. And it's not without good reason. Our words, our attitudes, and our actions have done great harm to each other, both in small, personal ways and in grand, systemic ways in our world. 

We have not yet learned the things that make for peace. We have not yet learned how to live gently with others in the world. We have not yet learned how to assure others that we are not a threat. And that's because, so many times, we have been the threat. 
I read another story this week of someone who is terrified of Christians because of abuse she experienced as a teen at the hands of Christian missionaries. They were a threat. She didn't know it. It made me so angry, and so sad. The things done in the dark and the hatred shown in the light have made it harder for people to trust God's goodness that we see in Jesus. 

Jesus was a safe place for those who had learned the world was unsafe. And when others did feel threatened by him, it was always those holding religious and political power, whose postures were bringing harm to others. Those were the ones Jesus challenged head on. 

We have a calling to be agents of healing and reconciliation (2 Cor 5:18). We have a calling to build a reputation of love (John 13:35). In an aggressive and passive-aggressive world of fighting with fists, with words, with keyboards, and with policies, how can we establish that we are here to serve and not to harm? How can we make it clear to others that we are not a threat, when so many people around them have been? 

The way forward involves slowing down with Jesus and becoming wholehearted. It involves releasing the need to control others or constantly try to fix them (even "in love"). It involves slow, trust-building relationships of care and presence. It requires learning why so many people have had to become so vigilant. Being slow to speak, quick to listen, and slow to become angry is a good starting point (thanks for that advice, Brother James).

Like this morning's deer, I wonder who I may encounter today that needs to know that I'm not a threat. Who will need to know that from you? Where can the love and care of God flow gently from our lives, reminding those around us that we are for their flourishing? Friends, let's keep taking every opportunity to be quick to listen, slow to judge, and eager to love selflessly. 

Jesus, may each of my interactions today affirm your gentle goodness. 

Peace,
Keith ​