WET PANTS AND LORD'S SUPPERS
I don't know where I got the story of Susie and the goldfish bowl but I think it's a story of great compassion and gallantry. I wet the bed until I was fifteen years old, or thereabouts, and I have a soft spot for kids who go through that. [I need to say that millions feel compassionate without having to experience the same pain as others. Thank God. It's a wide fellowship of suffering, isn't it!]
You understand I've done shameful things in my life and now and then I've been shamed for no good reason and here I am—alive and well. These experiences aren't the end of the world; they only feel like it. I don't at all wish to make the pain that follows appear to be the worst that can happen to a boy or girl and, in any case, it's the entire incident I'm after.
Nine-year-old "Brad" is sitting at his desk, petrified! There's a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet. He thinks his heart's going to stop! He wets the bed and that's shame enough but this is a whole different world—in fact, it's the end of the world. It happened without warning and almost completely without his feeling it happening—he simply froze in his seat. Once the news spread his life would be over. At best, the boys would pity him and the girls—would any of them ever speak to him again? Could he face anyone again--ever?
This is high drama and genuine trauma. Only an adult denies that this is one of those end-of-the-world experiences and while I've known a number of adults who would take it in their stride, the number's exceedingly small. All the others I'm acquainted with—I'm picturing faces as I write this—they'd die of embarrassment on the spot. It's irrational, I know, but there's "shame" and "guilt" attached to such events—can you believe it?
In Great Expectations young Pip, under threat of being roasted and having his liver eaten, had stolen a lovely pork pie from his ill-tempered sister and a file from his dear friend Joe, her husband. He was under secret orders to bring them to the marsh to this escaped and starving convict who had a leg-iron he wanted off. As he hurried with the stuff through the early morning mist every muffled noise was a ghostly voice whispering "thief". Sheep seemed to be huddled together discussing him and casting accusing glances at him as he slipped by in the damp and the dark. In the mist, all of a sudden, he came upon a herd of cattle with staring eyes and steam coming from their nostrils. All of them looking and saying, "Hello, young thief!" One of them, a black ox with a white cravat, fixed him with a long stare and to Pip's pounding conscience it had the air and the appearance of a clergyman. The boy heard himself pleading, "I couldn't help it, sir. It wasn't for myself I took it." Poor thing.
Brad saw his teacher head in his direction. She had a look that said to him he had been found out; though it may only have been his fear and sense of shame and guilt. In any case, in a moment or two the whole matter would become public!
Just then, Susie, who sits behind him, trips in the aisle, she's carrying a goldfish bowl and the entire bowl of water lands in Brad's lap.
"Love covered a multitude of sins."
All of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule he has everybody's sympathy. The teacher rushes to do everything for him that needs to be done while his clothes dry.
Susie tries to help but they give her the blues. "You've done enough!"
After school, at the bus-stop, Brad about to ask her…she hushes him and whispers, "I wet my pants once too."
You don't have to be a little girl to do such wonderful things. Even adults can and do them. These people both convict and inspire us.
Tomorrow, God enabling, I'll join a lot of people to engage in the Lord's Supper. I'll think of my genuine guilt and I'll feel ashamed (for I've been guilty and have reasons to feel ashamed) as my heart and mind rise to meet Him. I'll thank Him too for the covering. I'll think of all the "Susies" in the world and some who've been in my life who understood, who were kind and gallant and in love covered my acknowleded sin. Then I'll imagine that He smiles at my thoughts and says, "Yes that was me. I wear a lot of names and lots of disguises. One of these days I'll disguise myself as you and call myself Jim."
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