Post Script

On the weekend one of the girls from Run Club was training when some random guy called her a "hippo". To quote him in full: "There's no need for you to run. You're a fat hippopotamus." My friend said nothing in reply. Kept running. Told me afterwards how hurt she felt...

If I had to preach on the weekend I would have followed the lectionary reading and gone with Luke 19:1-10. (I didn't preach, by the way. Actually, I didn't even go to church...) However, if I was giving a sermon, I would have re-read the related chapter from Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes by Kenneth E Bailey. I'd have said that this story should be seen alongside the story of the blind man in Luke 18:35ff. At the very least I would have made the point that Jesus shows compassion both for the oppressed (the blind man) and the oppressor (Zacchaues). That would have been my message. Sounds great... until a guy calls one of your run club chicks a hippo. Then I want to shove his fist so far down his throat that he gags on last night's dinner. At the very least I want to challenge his skinny butt to a 10km race and see him fight for breath, his tongue hanging so far out of his mouth that he's too exhausted to use it to use it for stupid insults.

Compassion for sinners. It's a novel idea. I want to see the oppressors get what they deserve. Justice for the big, bold, hardened ones and for the small, sneaky oppressors. Curse the drug smugglers, traffickers and the money exchanger who tried to rip us off when we were buying food for emergency flood relief. Yet Jesus showed compassion both for the oppressed and the oppressor. So I need to find grace in order to love my friend whose confidence was dented and the guy who didn't realise how easy it would have been to destroy it. Here endeth the lesson.