I don’t watch Thrillers. But I have seen M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Village.” It was all about “those we don’t speak of”: there are icky things around us; it’s better just not to talk about it.
Intriguing. That’s what life is, isn’t it? Everybody’s got some freakish idiosyncrasy: This one’s too loud; that one’s too quiet. This one’s out of touch; that one’s too opinionated. This one should lose weight; that one never admits he’s wrong. “Why can’t everybody be practically perfect in every way?”
Contrariwise, each of us likes to think we are utterly free of creepiness. No freakish idiosyncrasies here! (Yeah, riiigghhtt….)
Sure, we can learn to get past people’s peculiarities. Just like in The Village – to preserve our sanity, it becomes “those we don’t speak of.” God calls us to not be wise in our own opinion, and many of us (by His grace) do indeed let irritations roll off our back. But on an off day, that oddity can get under your skin, can’t it? Such wicked hearts we have. We do, however, want people around us–so the seasoned veteran quells the visible response. It really does become “those we don’t speak of.”
It’s a weird dynamic, living in a world full of sinners. May God open our eyes to the fact that we’re cut from the same cloth. Let us ask ourselves, “Am I grody? Uncivilized? Irritating? What things about me do people “not speak of”? As I type this, I’m coming up with a few. Meh.
May God help me. May He humble me and give me empathy for those I’ve been wretched enough to deem pitiful, peppery, or persnickety. May He erase from my vocabulary words like bothered; upset; irritated. May He grant that I look past the foibles, and enjoy the fabulous.
May “those we don’t speak of” become “those we love.”