A Debt of Love

A Debt of Love By Alberto Valenzuela According to a United Press International article published in 1973, the “uglies” picketed an American Airlines ticket office in Fort Worth, Texas, to protest alleged discrimination in hiring when the company advertised for good-looking people. Danny McCrory, the founder of Uglies Unlimited, led the protest with 18 uglies from his organization, which was formed to fight biased social structures that discriminate against ugly people. “We just want to be accepted for who we are instead of what we look like,” said McCrory. He had talked to employment agencies who said it was much easier to place attractive persons. He felt the problem was most flagrant in newspapers want ads that said such things as “Wanted attractive receptionist” or “Pretty secretary needed.” McCrory said the Fort Worth Uglies was the first group of its kind in the country. He had started it to promote the rights of ugly people and spread its message across the nation. However, there is no standard definition of ugliness—it’s a relative term. To some people, irregular features, discolored skin, or a large nose qualify. Others consider such conditions as obesity and baldness unattractive. The complaints of the protesters did not get them very far. Although we are not accepted by all the people all the time, there are a few saints who accept us regardless of whether we are good looking or ugly. There are some who are able to see the potential in us. The greatest motivating power you can discover is your remembered debt of gratitude to these good people. If you disabuse yourself of any ideas of your own self-sufficiency and your own capability of making it to the top of the heap, you will become an instrument of divine power through kindness, love, and faith. As long as we persist in trying to make it to the top alone by pushing others aside and asserting ourselves, we diminish our stature. It is the unforgotten debt that we owe to others that gives us the power to create, lead, live fully, and be our true selves. The Apostle Paul never forgot the debt that he owed to other people. Chiefly, there were three persons who helped him develop his spiritual life. First, Ananias, a layman who made pottery in Damascus, was sent by the Holy Spirit to give him back his sight and to restore his serenity. Second, a woman named Priscilla opened the way for him in Greece when the itinerant Paul went there but had no “foot in the door.” This professional woman, a dealer in fine fabrics, opened her home and her social clientele to give credence to this new convert, Saul, who was now known as Paul. And third, and most important: Barnabas. Barnabas came from the island of Cyprus and lived on the periphery of the disciples of Jesus. He was a large, rotund man with a majestic head; in fact, when he was besieged by a crowd on one of his mission trips, they thought he looked like their idea of the Greek god Zeus (Acts 14:11-12). Barnabas was a good man, and his goodness expressed itself in his actions. The first thing reported of him is an act of great generosity. After the resurrection, things were difficult for the disciples, and they were poverty-stricken and of necessity frugal. Barnabas went back to Cyprus, sold his farm, and brought the income to support the Christian community led by the apostles (Acts 4:36-37). Jesus said that one kind of goodness was to help the hungry, the naked, the prisoners, and the sick. Barnabas had that kind of goodness. He had the insight to discern between the genuine and the insincere. When the young church was afraid of Saul, “Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles. He told them how Saul on his journey had seen the Lord and that the Lord had spoken to him” (Acts 9:27, NIV). Barnabas was not influenced by gossip or public opinion. When he saw that Paul was genuine, he decided to stand by him whether it was popular or not. Here was a large-framed man with a large mind and a generous heart who was content to play second fiddle. When Saul was first converted, he was rebuffed by the apostles. But Barnabas put his arm around him and said, “Brother Saul, I stand with you.” After that Paul was in. Who plays the role of Barnabas in your life? I can name a dozen men and women who have played the role of Barnabas in my life. It is an unforgotten debt. An even more important question exists: Whose Barnabas are you? If you can’t think of anyone, then your life is not complete. If you want to be a leader, or if you want to be an instrument of God, write down the name of some person who stands alone today—questioned, scorned, unsure, and anxious. Then write: “I am your Barnabas.” It won’t be easy to do. You will have to take criticism and bear the scorn that goes with loyalty. But there is a chance that you will set a character free who may influence the whole civilization, as Paul did. Barnabas was never famous, but there would have been no Apostle Paul if there had been no Barnabas. Barnabas wasn’t actually his name—his name was Joseph. He was so stout, strong, warm-hearted, and outgoing, they gave him the nickname Barnabas, which means “Son of Encouragement.” To whom are you the son or daughter of encouragement? Who can you prevent from slipping into the abyss by the helpful actions of your personality? This is the age of narcissism. “What’s in it for me?” But there is more to life than that. Jesus persuaded Barnabas that he who seeks to save his life will lose it and he who seeks to give his life away in abundance will receive it back as an overflowing spring of eternal spirit. This promise is available to all men and women to give to others. When the church in Jerusalem wanted a thorough report of the work that was being done in Antioch, it was Barnabas they sent. Barnabas, free from jealousy and self-seeking, could give an unbiased report. The work of God was always first with Barnabas. A good man can never be a yes-man, so Barnabas was willing to take a stand against Paul and support John Mark in their disagreement (Acts 15:36-41). Barnabas was right and Paul was wrong, for Barnabas saved Mark when Paul would have abandoned him. Barnabas stood for loyalty to the right at any cost. Barnabas was never glad when others went wrong. He was gladdened by the goodness. He was always eager to believe the best about everybody. No man is truly good who is not in sympathy with others, who does not have a large­hearted tolerance for their weaknesses and a passionate interest in their welfare. I think of all the men and women who have accepted me, influenced me, and loved me. I think with gratitude of the men and women who have sometimes taken the opposite view in criticisms. They also have enriched my life. I identify at this stage in life with Paul and Barnabas, who encouraged each other. Every one of us have a Barnabas, an Ananias, or a Priscilla in their lives. My hope is that you will acknowledge that. If you do, it will let loose a motivating flood within your heart and cause you to become a Barnabas or a Priscilla for someone else. It will liberate the kindness in you. It will make you realize that you touch everybody’s life for better or worse. When you affect them for the better, you release their personalities and set them free. It is in the depths of life that Barnabas stands with you. It is in the depths of doubt that Priscilla reassures you. It is in the depths of despair that Ananias comes with love and acceptance to say, “Brother Saul, the Lord…has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 9:17, NIV).