His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’ http://esv.to/Matt25.21

When I think about things in life that could have gone better, I immediately think of Performance Reviews. I have been on both sides of these God-forsaken conversations and all I can say is I’d rather be cleaning gutters than to sit and hear anything from puffy, “too-good to be true, I don’t deserve all the credit” platitudes to “you are not good enough, nobody likes you” messages. To be the deliverer of such a message is even worse. You try hard to be fair. You sit in rather harsh and arbitrary judgment of others, determining their fate, and always feel like you are missing some important piece of information.

An egalitarian at heart, I have never completely understood the motivation behind harshly judging, or worse, mis-judging, another person. I always catch myself, thinking “who am I to judge?”.

So I look up and think, how would God handle this? He was pretty harsh on Job, after all. What would Jesus do? In my mind God would be like a really good swim coach. The Good Swim Coach would say something like, “I noticed your left elbow dropping too early on the pull”. This is very helpful feedback. You would shout back, “thank you, Coach!” and then merrily go on to the next lap, focused on improving your technique. The Coach leaves you alone for awhile so you can practice. “Well done, good and faithful swimmer!” He says. Perfect.

Unfortunately, feedback among humans does not always work this way and tends to be more indirect. Coaching interactions are more akin to a chain department store that misses the mark on customer service. People often give bad, mis-directed, or insensitive advice to each other. Their advice is not sprinkled with God’s love, it is harsher and more directed at the imperfections in you. So I start to think about what shopping at this kind of store looks like. There are three main departments in every “Feedback Central Department Store”. Floor one: The Well-Meaning but Haughty Advice Department. Floor two: The Shame and Reproof Department. On the Top Floor: The new and improved, Holier than Thou Seasonal Section.

Let’s walk through the store to that first floor department. No one needs advice that comes too late, so I’m not sure why they sell it in the first place. Let’s say you are washing the car and you miss a spot. You don’t realize it because it’s near the back rear tire. You are feeling pretty good about the shiny car in the driveway. It brings you happiness that you have worked hard and have something to show for it. Then along comes that one person. The one who says, “Nice car. I see there’s a smudge by the back rear tire”. Your beaming face fades a little, and you reply, “Thank you, I must have missed a spot”. That would be great if it were the end of the conversation. Instead, they proceed to tell you, “Yeah, I’m not sure why you were washing your car, it’s supposed to rain”. Before you can reply, they scoff, “Most people read the weather reports before washing their cars”. They may even take it further and say “I pay someone to wash my car at the such-and-such expensive car detail place”. Okay, so you get my point. Is this advice giving person motivated by love? By charity? I think not. By a sense of fairness? Maybe. By a sense of superiority? Perhaps … you be the judge.

Such admonishing judgments usually leave the recipient feeling mad, defensive, or just plain resentful. They may or may not address the smudge or change their ways. They might even decide to do the opposite and leave it there just to spite the advice-giver. Perfectly timed advice is hard to find, even for the savviest of shoppers.

Taking the escalator up to the next floor, you see admonishment and reproof. “Oh dear God”, you think, “please let that be for someone else”. I understand that we all need to improve. Christian doctrine implies we are all “sinners”, and that no one is beyond reproach. So we all need to shop on this floor. But what do we need? Do we need to attain perfection? Do we need someone pointing out superficial flaws, or do we need that lovable Coach, tweeting their whistle, shouting “keep your chin up!” from the side lines. Imperfect me tried shopping on this floor and all I found was shame in the petites department and embarrassment in the oversized dresses. The problem with this department is that it is hard finding that perfect, “one-size fits all” piece of feedback.

As you proceed over to the escalator, you read the sign, no strollers, please be careful with children. Tie your shoelaces, you are now headed to the Top Floor of the department store, the one with the great view, but the scary and dramatic escalator. You have reached “Holier than Thou”. At first you are amazed “Look at the lights!” you say. Then you feel the weight of shame, that heavy bag you are carrying from the second floor. Am I dressed well enough to be here? Does my hair look okay? “For God’s sake, stand up straight”, I hear the person behind me say. “And people with bags should stay to the right!”. An angelic chorus accompanies the ride up to this floor. You have arrived.

Holier than Thou is a busy department. There are people trying to sell you make-up and push-up bras, and other items you don’t really need but they make you feel like you do. There is sparkly jewelry and a well-trimmed, svelte mannequin. There are designer purses and fashionable shoes. But sadly, you cannot find what you came here for. You are looking for love and kindness. You are looking for that gum-smacking sales person who says, ” I know, right? Like we can afford that!” You are looking for that friendly face, someone who politely says “How may I help you?”. You definitely do not want that snooty salesperson saying “I think you are in the wrong department, you need to be shopping on the second floor!”. This store always makes you feel so worn out and crabby. “I never find what I am looking for”, you say to your imperfect self.

In despair you gather up the tangled mess of bags with worn handles you are carrying. You head to your favorite place, the cozy bookstore. Jesus works there. He has long hair and he’s bright, eager, clever, charming, and industrious. The Perfect Salesperson. You tell him you are hiding from the crowds over at “Feedback”, as you roll your eyes. He smiles and asks if you’ve read “The Parable of the Talents”. You nod and reply, “but I didn’t much care for the ending”. He says “tough, but fair” and winks. He suggests instead “The Parable of the Workers in the Field” where there is this surprise and very egalitarian ending. He tells you that you are not alone, that there is someone just like you, reading “Job’s Final Appeal” over on aisle 31 and maybe you can meet for coffee to discuss. He asks you if you want a new, larger bag for everything you are carrying. He understands what you need before you ask. Excellent Customer Service, you think.

You sit with your coffee and the Book of Job. “Does God really judge us as harshly as we do ourselves?”, you ask your new found friend. You have an appreciation for Job and what he went through. Then you turn to the Parable of the Talents. “No one wants to be the worthless servant”, you think. “Harsh”, you say out loud. “The absolute worst Performance Review, ever!”. You can relate. Maybe there is a judgment harsher than our own distorted view. You straighten your shoulders and vow to try harder, to listen to the Coach and shop at the nice bookstore more often. Feedback Central is just not your kind of shopping experience, you say to yourself.

Off in the distance the imaginary coaching session is over. Coach blows his whistle and shouts “Great Practice, everyone!” You pick up your new and improved bookstore bag which is much easier to carry now, with the better handles. You walk, chin up, to the parking lot and hop into your shiny car. You grin at yourself in the mirror. Maybe shopping here is not so bad after all. As you pull past the bookstore and wave to the earnest young salesperson looking out the window, He smiles and waves back, sighing a bit. He notices the smudge near the left rear tire, grins, shakes his head, and goes back to help the next customer.

(lwr 01/23/2018)