Turning the other cheek is not being a doormat

Several years ago when I lived in another county, my neighbors came over on the Fourth of July with some fireworks.

They set up in the street in front of my house and began lighting off the fireworks. It was a fun time, and soon people gathered to enjoy the modest show.

My next door neighbor (who incidentally was the most curmudgeonly young person I have ever met), also came over, but not to watch, to complain.

He (I’ll call him Crankyman) got in my face, berating me for letting it happen and furious that firework debris had landed on his grass. I felt bad and apologized, and he stalked away.

Later I reflected on this incident. Why did I apologize? I don’t mind apologizing when I’m wrong, but in this case I had no control over the fact that the neighbor was in the street in front of my house.

Furthermore, there was nothing illegal done; fireworks were allowed on the Fourth of July. If the debris settled on Crankyman’s lawn, oh well. Too bad, so sad.

Eventually I began to see I was likely targeted by the 38 year old curmudgeon because I was an easy target.

Crankyman knew my weakness, and that weakness was my failure to set boundaries.

Boundaries are deciding on what to accept from people and clearly and concisely stating the ground rules.

Since then, I have become less sweet, but more authentic and to be fair, more Christian.

Jesus said to turn the other cheek, but “turning the other cheek” does not mean being a doormat and accepting abuse.

Instead it means standing firm against injustice while maintaining one’s dignity.

When someone in the ancient world slapped your face, they struck the right cheek with a backhand, as if to say, “You’re beneath me.”

Turning the other cheek means nonviolently challenging that person to strike again, but as an equal, not a superior. It is both disarming for the other and empowering for you.

The next test of boundaries with the Crankyman family came the following summer.

Mr. Crankyman’s 6 year old son insisted on playing baseball with the “big boys,” neighborhood kids ranging in age from 11-14, including my sons.

When the 6-year-old was bumped in a very minor running collision, the parents started screaming at the older boys. I mean screaming.

I calmly walked over and told them to leave the older boys alone. The 6-year-old was the one who wanted to play, and the parents sat there egging on their son – until the young child ran into one of the boys and fell down on the grass.

I would never wish a child to be hurt (and this kid wasn’t hurt, just overly pampered), yet the responsibility was with the parents, not the older boys.

I walked away empowered, experiencing the joy of setting boundaries on what I would accept of Crankyman’s behavior.

Prentis Hemphill said it like this, “Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.”

About the author: Rev. Sharon Smith is pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. She believes theology can be learned from cranky neighbors, pampered six-year-olds, backyard baseball and overly enthusiastic fireworks displays. She’s a pastor, writer, and professor who attempts to mix humor with wisdom while commenting on the surprising places God shows up.

Contact Sharon at tct@pageone-inc.com