Criticism by any other Name

The old story about Indian crabs goes a little like this. There was once a man who passed by a fish market to buy some crabs. There he saw a vendor who had a few baskets of crabs. They were all covered with lids except one. Curious, he went up to the vendor and said, "Why do you cover the baskets?" "Because the crabs will climb out if I don't," the vendor replied. "What about that one?" the man asked, pointing to the one basket that was left uncovered. "Oh, those crabs will never climb out," the man said. "They're Indian crabs. As soon as one tries to climb higher, the rest pull him down. I never have to worry about Indian crabs climbing. Ever."

Sad, but true. Embarrassing, but real.

A very close friend of mine recently posted a happy, cheerful status update about coming out of one's comfort zone and trying something new. The barrage of comments she received were almost all disappointing. "Did you THINK?" one asked. "She probably just got out of bed!" another said. "Did you cook?" another asked. And these are her friends, mind you. In and of themselves, the comments were not accusatory or insulting, but lined up like that made me think of someone kicking a man who is already down.

I have noticed this behavior often in people from the east. My childhood is certainly replete with barbs and arrows coming at my brother who was doing far beyond anyone's imagination in his studies. His only consolations were his scholarships and my parents who stood by him. But the taunts and the insults hurled at someone so hardworking and painstaking in his work were just incredible. He heard things like, "I bet he can't climb a tree!" or "He won't last abroad one week! He's going to come running back. Just watch!"

The comments against my friend, who shall remain unnamed, were certainly not that sharp, but sometimes, it's worse when criticism and harsh words are coated in the veneer of, "But only I can say it because I'm your friend. It's endearing." For one, a curse is a curse is a curse. It does not serve the purpose of bringing people closer to one another or deepening a friendship. If anything, it silences. It cuts short joy, enthusiasm and certainly love. Secondly, the next time the person tries to do something new, he hears those voices. And stops. Another crab who will never climb!

The reason this is so frustrating is because I know I do it, too. This Lent, I'm fasting from name-calling in all forms. Jesus said whoever calls his brother a fool is in danger of hellfire. While fear is not driving me to do this fast, I am driven by the check I feel deep inside me each time I call someone a name. Words have power. Undeniable power. And I give them that power because I am made in God's image. God spoke the world into being. Jesus is referred to as The Word in the gospel of John. Paul exhorts us later in one of the epistles that blessings and curses should not roll off the same tongue. Lent has been extremely difficult this year. Partially because I have realized that it's harder in the company of people I love. It is in the company of people I love the most that I curse the most, am unkindest the most. It is the ones I say I love the most that I don't bless with my mouth.

How sad is that?

My husband completely bowled me over last year when I was complaining about our neighbors. I said something to the effect of, "I don't know why you're so careful around those people. They blast their music and they don't deserve any kindness!" I will never forget what he said. It was like Jesus spoke to me. "Shouldn't we be careful around all human beings? Don't they all deserve kindness?" Yikes.

Perhaps I thrived here in the United States because my husband didn't make fun of me, even to endear me to him. He even used the words, "You're right!" - something I had never before heard addressed to me. I drank deep from his encouragement in those first few months. I used to think, "If you can't think of anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" was silly advice, but now I think otherwise. There are times when there is a need for righteous anger, but clearly, it's not as often as we think.