The other night, we rewatched the film, Pollyanna. It had been years since I’d first viewed the movie or read the book. I recalled the “Glad Game,” the rainbow makers, and the climactic scene. I’d forgotten Karl Malden—as Rev. Ford, the town’s pastor—raining down hellfire from his pulpit on high. His sermon was both eloquent and violent. He accused his parishioners of such depravity that they already had one foot stuck firmly in Hell. As I watched the pastor’s face turn purple and his voice shake with rage, I wondered how well he knew his congregants.
I hope it’s not a spoiler to assure you that the story ends well for everyone, Rev. Ford and congregants included. But viewing the sermon led me to a decision: I will not accept judgment from persons who do not take time to know me. And that’s whether such judgment comes from a pulpit, the grocery-store aisle, an email, or a passing car.
Telling someone what is wrong with them is a serious thing to do: with it goes the responsibility to help that person move through what prevents them from living into their full human potential. So, if I get preached at by someone who does not accept that responsibility, I will write “return to sender” on their missive. It will not be easy for me—it might not be for you. Especially if you grew up with a Rev. Ford shouting down at you. But let’s give it a go, because we deserve kindness and compassion. We deserve to be hoped for.
What the hellfire preacher forgot was that the Gospel is good news. That he was speaking to God’s beloved children who need, more than anything, to be seen—to be loved. That’s what we, at A Spacious Place, hope for you.
What are your thoughts on boundary setting and soul care? We’d love to hear from you! Share your thoughts at contact@aspaciousplace.com .
