Did you hear what I heard?

Just by switching the verb tense, a sweet sensory delight of a Christmas carol can be turned into a reflection of gossip. At best, it's a reflection of reputation. Separating out talking about someone as part of their reputation as opposed to gossip can be a little tricky and often needs clearly-defined morals and circumstances, both of which can be difficult to ascertain in and of themselves. Still, our reputations are important to us. What people think of us on and off the grapevine really matters. Their judgments of our actions can tip the balance over future opportunities and relationships. This is where real life gets a little hinky, because if you haven't figured out how true this little cliche is yet, you are about to: appearances can be deceiving.






***Reader warning--subject matter to follow may not be appropriate for all readers***






For instance, there was a night I went over to Bob's house to watch a movie. Bob and I have both agreed that we will not have sex until our wedding night, an expected but not-often followed idea in our society. We want to follow God's will for sexual relationships. My reputation is also included in this--many people know I am still a virgin, and I want to have that reputation intact on my wedding day. While we are physically affectionate, even to an extent in public, there are very clear lines drawn that the two of us do not cross.

So on this movie night, I plop down on his living room floor (more comfy than the two-seater couch by a long shot) and curl up under a blanket with a pillow to watch the film. He joins me, keeping some distance but still cuddling around my blanket cocoon. It's been a long week for both of us--his job is extremely physically taxing while my three jobs wear me out mentally and emotionally. We're well-fed, warm, and tired. Guess what happens? That's right--we fall asleep. I wake up disoriented, still wrapped securely in my blankets just a few inches away from Bob. I look at the clock. It's after midnight. As it takes about 45 minutes for me to get home, this is a VERY late date for me and we both have work in the morning. I stumble around, waking him with a quick kiss goodbye before grabbing my things and walking out into the brisk night air. As I slowly descend the porch steps, I see the neighbors across the street noticing my presence. My face burns with heat. I know what this must look like. A brief glimpse in the bathroom mirror had showed my rumpled clothes, smeared make-up, and destroyed hairdo. I look like the poster child for the Walk of Shame calendar.

Did Bob and I do anything wrong? In my mind, no. We didn't mean to fall asleep together. We definitely didn't fool around. My appearance, combined with the late hour, gave an impression that probably tarnished, if not ruined, my reputation with that neighbor (and whomever they tell). The question is, then, whose responsibility is it if others start hearing--and believing--that I'm not as chaste as I say I am?

Personally, I believe it's 50/50, even though in reality that's hardly the case. While I do have the responsibility to set an alarm on my phone, tend to my appearance before I leave Bob's house, and try to make sure we don't end up in situations (such as cuddling platonically on the floor) that could be potentially damaging to our reputations, I think the neighbors also have the responsibility to check out the situation before spreading the word. We have all lived through experiences where we made assumptions about people that ended up being dramatically--and sometimes painfully--wrong.

In our society, though, we do make assumptions about people every day--and those who see me from afar should get the same kind of image (though not as sharp--my closest friends will see pieces of my personality that strangers wouldn't) as those I am close to. My leaving Bob's house in such a disheveled state at a very late hour was the mistake. I need to be more responsible about leaving at an appropriate time, or picking different locations for our "together time," such as public places in town or watching movies at his mother's house. ((Granted, I know there are couples who do a lot in a parent's home, but I'm personally weirded out by even peck kisses in front of Bob's mom. I'm a little more affectionate in my parent's home, but still...there are extreme limits to what I will do in those places out of respect for my parents and my heebie-jeebies.))

After all, it's not just my reputation that's at stake here, but also my witness. That's really not something to mess around with.

A Story of Faith...

My dad told me this story--I'm not sure what school it is from, but I'm sure someone out there will recognize it. :)

A student was preparing for a speech in his public speaking class. He went to the classroom early and taped a tennis ball on a string to the top middle of the chalkboard. He then pulled the ball to one side, marked the placement, and let the ball go. Every time the ball swung back, it reached a lower height. The student took great pains to mark everything as exactly as he could and finished his other preparations before the class arrived.

When it came to be his turn for his speech, he showed the class the tennis ball markings and explained the law of inertia--that when swinging from a fixed point, an object in motion will come back at a slightly lower place than before due to the forces of gravity. ((As best as I can tell, this is accurate--science majors can correct me if they like.)) He fully demonstrated this law and then turned to the class and the professor.

"Do you believe in the law of inertia?" The class agreed. "Do you really believe that no matter how many times I repeat this experiment, even with different materials, the results will still be the same?" The class, including the professor, agreed. The student smiled. He walked over to the corner of the room and pulled a blanket away, revealing a chair seated on a table. He turned to the professor and invited the man to take a seat. Being a good sport, the professor oomplied. The student asked the professor again if he believed in the law of inertia. The professor, once again, agreed.

The student then walked a few yards away and pulled another blanket off a hidden object, revealing a bowling ball suspended by a rope. The student pulled the bowling ball to within an inch of the professor's nose and looked his professor in the eye as the class oohed, giggled, and gasped.

"Do you believe in the law of intertia?"

"Yes."

The student let go of the bowling ball. The glossy black sphere swung out at a surprising speed, reached its zenith on the other side of the room, then began to quickly return towards the professor. The professor dove off the chair and crashed to the floor just before the bowling ball came within a foot of his body. The student turned to the class and grinned. "You see, he didn't really believe in the law of intertia, did he?"

**

So many times in our lives it's easy to say we believe in things. We believe in equality for the sexes. We believe that we should follow the law. We believe in God, Allah, Yahweh, or according to some of my friends, the Flying Spaghetti Monster (I don't think their being Italian has anything to do with it, though). We claim a lot of things, but when it really comes down to a show of faith, do we perform according to our beliefs? Do we hire the female daycare worker instead of the male because she'd supposedly be more motherly and caring? Do we actually follow the 55 mph speed limit on the highway? Do we really follow the God we claim to be our own?

We're not perfect beings. We all make mistakes and fall short of glory. As a Christian, there are times that I have had opportunities to share my faith, but I've backed off even though it's what I am commanded to do. Sometimes it's because in that particular situation it would be unethical to "preach my religion," mostly because of my career as a college professor. Sometimes it's because the people I am with are obviously not receptive to having a theological discussion. Sometimes it's because I'm not prepared to answer the questions I know are hard enough to answer even with a degree in Biblical studies. Sometimes it's because I'm just plain scared--scared of being rejected, ridiculed, or failing so badly that the person will chalk me up as just another "Bible thumper" or "hypocritical Christian."

Maybe witnessing isn't just about the ABC or Roman's Road methods. Maybe what a pastor said a few days ago to me is another key to changing a person: "Share the gospel--and if necessary, use words."

Actions do speak louder than words (anyone in a relationship of any kind can testify to this...oy, vey!). If we don't live our faith, make it clear to every bowling-ball-weilding person that we do have a trust in God that defies even primal instincts, then what does that say to the person about Who we believe in? We trust God, but only in these areas? What kind of faith is that? Who would want that?

The next time that an opportunity arises for me to prove my faith, whether it's prioritizing someone over myself, actually following the speed limit, or not being afraid to say on a very liberal college campus that I am a Christian, I pray that I have the strength to follow through. Who knows--maybe someone is out there with a bowling ball, testing the waters, and willing to consider belief based on what I do.