I heard the funniest joke the other day, and I want to tell it to all of you. You can repeat this when you go home for the summer. Here goes:
“A man walked into a bar, feeling pretty lonely. Then he drank himself dangerously close to oblivion, trying to solve his problems by drowning in a bottle, causing serious damage to not only his liver but also his spirit.”
OK, so maybe it’s not so much “funniest joke” as it is “altogether too true account of what happens to a lot of people in the world”. It’s easy to get those two confused sometimes.
There’s something in the human condition that makes us put up a front of invulnerability. For the most part, none of us are super eager to tell everybody around us what we’re dealing with deep down. Sure, we’ll complain about the 15 page paper that’s due in a week. Moaning and groaning about bad food in the caf? Not a problem. But telling somebody that we’re spending our nights feeling miserable because we feel like nobody cares… well… that’s not really anybody’s strong suit, as far as I’ve found.
How in the name of Darryl E. Strawberry does somebody – anybody – get ignored on this campus? I understand that not everybody can be the most popular person in a dorm. Not everybody can be a host or hostess for Spring Sing. Not everybody can have their own column in the newspaper. That’s simply a fact of population density. If there were only 20 of us on campus, of course we’d all know each other’s names and faces and places and bases and cases and races and I’m very sorry, I just got through reading some Dr. Seuss.
We’re at Harding University. This is a Christian campus. The goal most of us are striving towards is one of a lifestyle imitative of Christ himself. If we’re all doing that, or at least trying to, nobody here should slip through the cracks. Right?
Wrong, apparently.
On a campus of roughly 5,000+, we have far too many people who aren’t known. I know it’s not possible to know everybody on campus. But everybody on campus needs to be accepted by somebody.
Not just counting the fact that I feel like it’s basically a scam centered on matching shirts and bought friends, I really am not a fan of social clubs. I think it’s great that people can get into a group and have a good time and be accepted, but what about the people that aren’t in clubs? What about the people that can’t afford the dues? What about the people who don’t have friends?
Hey, yeah, I know, the guy always smells like popcorn butter. Go talk to him. Yeah, I know, she’s always wearing the least fashionable ensemble you’ve ever seen. Go talk to her. Be genuine. You don’t have to be interested in Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 7th edition to ask somebody if he or she is having an OK day. You don’t have to be insincere, and you don’t have to become somebody’s new best friend. But seek out the lonely, seek out those who might be outcast from society, and let them know that they are accepted. Let them know they have worth as people. Let them know that they matter to you, even if it is only your Christian love for them that is compelling you to do so.
As we wrap up another year, I submit to you a humble request. I ask only that you be good to somebody who looks like they could use it. If the first thing that comes into your mind when you see somebody sitting alone is “What a loser”, make a difference in that person’s life immediately. It’s not everyday that we find ourselves performing CPR, but it’s entirely possible that a handshake and a smile can save somebody’s life.