I've always been wary of reporters. My publisher had warned me about them. And maybe I'm critical, or idealistic, or just plain biased, but I never like the way their agenda is put above everything else. I've had friends hurt by them before- being told one thing and then stabbed in the back by an oversensationalistic headline that distorts the truth and brings shame to them. Once, in an office being interviewed by someone, I wanted to walk out because she kept asking me, "So what else have you done besides Kitesong? Do you have photos of patients you helped? Can we interview them? We need to pitch our story well. How about your next book? We need a good story."
"I don't think the patients would be comfortable with the press."
"But we need a good story, and the public likes personal stories from patients themselves."
A good story. So that's what it's all about.
I felt used. I felt like a tool. By the time she was done with her questioning, I felt like my dignity had been stripped off me like bark off a tree.
So today when It happened, I was disappointed and shocked and just, plain angry. We were having a conversation, like friends do, and I shared about what had happened to my Sunday school kid, about her tumour and what she was going through. Then the words, "Hey, you know what, this sounds like a good story..." stabbed me like a knife in my heart.
A good story.
Is this what things have been reduced to? A good story?
And then I thought about all the times you wanted to spend time with me and talk to me and meet me, and how you kept asking if I knew so-and-so and this doctor and that doctor, and if you could have their contacts, suddenly I felt I didn't know you anymore. Was that why you always seemed so interested in my life, about what was happening with the next book and my work and all? Was this all about getting a good story?
I left shortly.
Later, as I thought about things a little more, I remembered a story from the bible. Once there was a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. One who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him, and the king demanded his entire family be sold. In desperation, the servant begged for leniency. Moved with compassion, the king forgave him the debt.
However, later on, when this servant found a fellow servant who owed him a hundred denarii, he took him by the throat and demanded repayment. Even with pleading, he threw his friend into prison till he would pay the debt. Later, the king found out about this and was enraged, and sent that unforgiving servant into the hands of torturers.
It made me think- was I not like the unforgiving servant as well?
As much as I felt like a tool, or that I was being made use of, have I not committed the same sin against others before? In the hospital, our countenance lights up and we turn on our charm just to have patients speak with us, to allow us to examine them- all for our own learning's sake. After which we are back to our grumpy selves and petty routine. Without giving patients due respect or perhaps, in being overzealous in our warmth towards them in the hope of gaining something in return, have we too been guilty of seeing patients as examination material, as what we call "cases", rather than unique individuals, with lives and families? Have I, in that sense, "made use" of others too?
I know I have been guilty. I know I, too, have been guilty of going into automatic questioning mode when my medical radar picks up a medical condition from a friend, simply for the sake of learning.
If you, like me, have been just a little bit nicer to someone else because you knew you needed his help, or just a little less warm to someone whom you knew would never cross your path again, you have been guilty, too. So who's clean? I know I have not been entirely consistent.
Perhaps, the point of realising this, is not in wailing against our own sordid failings, but rather, to see our tainted hearts for what they are, and to realise, the importance of extending grace to others whom we feel may have failed us too- because after all, who hasn't?
I thought about the times I asked to meet someone because I was inspired by him/her, made friends with seniors at hospital because I needed their help, and realised, that I had little right to sit on my moral high horse. I suppose, there is nothing wrong in connecting with people, but have we given the word "networking" a bad name because of our eagerness to gain benefit, and our failure to value people above our agendas?
Agenda. It is another dirty word, isn't it.
Later on, as I thought about things and realised that I could not and did not have a right to harbour this resentment, I asked J a rhetorical question. "Do you think I should forgive him?"
"You don't have a choice, Jia," J laughed. And then, I chuckled along, too, albeit a bit more nervously.
I suppose, if you look at things from a certain perspective, what we really owe one another is not another apology, or a hundred or ten thousand denarii, but really, a debt of forgiveness and love.
"Therefore the kingdom of heaven is like a certain king
who wanted to settle accounts with his servants.
And when he had begun to settle accounts, one was brought to him
who owed him ten thousand talents.
But as he was not able to pay, his master commanded that
he be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had,
and that payment be made.
The servant therefore fell down before him, saying,
‘Master, have patience with me, and I will pay you all.’
Then the master of that servant was moved with compassion,
released him, and forgave him the debt.
“But that servant went out and found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii;
and he laid hands on him and took him by the throat,
saying, ‘Pay me what you owe!’
So his fellow servant fell down at his feet and begged him, saying,
‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you all.’
And he would not, but went and threw him into prison till he should pay the debt.
So when his fellow servants saw what had been done,
they were very grieved, and came and told their master all that had been done.
Then his master, after he had called him, said to him,
‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me.
Should you not also have had compassion on your fellow servant, just as I had pity on you?’
And his master was angry,
and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all that was due to him.
“So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you,
from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses.”
-Matthew 18:23-35
No comments:
Post a Comment