I was right: Those first two days of Vacation Bible School were deceptively good – the “honeymoon period,” you might say. When the little ones came in yesterday morning, it was like someone had replaced the girls’ kneecaps with springs and their mouths with…well, really talkative mouths. The boys
weren’t much better; every activity automatically turned into an epic battle to the death. Holding hands to cross the street was a tug-of-war contest; paper plate tambourines turned into bludgeoning weapons; not even Baby Moses was safe, since his clay basket was clearly better suited for bombing helpless victims. All told, their behavior turned most heinous.
Don’t get me wrong, it was still the most fun I’ve had in a long time, but they tested my patience. One of the boys (we’ll call him Jimmy), was executing particularly egregious treatment of the other kids and myself, at one point turning our sharing circle into a “punch the evil Gabe” roleplay. I am ashamed to say it, but I was building up some particular resentment towards the little guy.
Something happened, though, when everybody went to the bathroom before snack time. Jimmy had to go number 2, but the toilet was too high for him to get up on. So the poor fellow comes waddling out of the stall with his pants around his ankles and asks if I can help him up on the seat. I helped him and thought my job was done, but alas, no: he needs help wiping, of course. When I signed up for this, I was NOT told that my duties would include wiping butts that were not my own. Nevertheless, I mustered up the courage and did what had to be done.
What was weird about this interaction is that afterwards, I had much more positive feelings towards him. And I don’t think it was just the bond that comes when you’ve wiped another person’s butt. I believe it was something about him coming to me in that purely innocent and helpless way that only a child who needs help going to the bathroom can portray. He was no longer the devil-kid with no respect for authority and an earnest desire to ruin our carefully planned activities. He was human, and vulnerable, and just a kid.
I think this is why Jesus told us to wash each other’s feet (John 13:14). It’s a lot more difficult to harbor bad feelings toward people when you are in a position of pure service.
Psychologists call it the “Ben Franklin Effect,” because the old politician had this tactic where he would ask his political opponents to do some small service for him as a way of prepping them for a more important favor later on. Apparently, when we are asked to do something nice for someone and then do it, we internally justify our actions by convincing ourselves that we did them a favor because we liked them. The reverse is why we find it easy to hate our victims.
So maybe the next time you can’t stop being annoyed/angry/furious with someone, try wiping their butt. Metaphorically, of course.
Life Reconciling 