I Smell Gas
IMAG1222
Not long ago I found myself on the telephone with a plumber out in California. This good natured gentleman had restored our 1953 Tappan Deluxe stove, shipped it back to Minnesota, and unintentionally fumbled the follow-up call. After unwrapping and reassembling the various parts, I had finished the natural gas connections and ignited the pilots. Then came an eerie sensation: "I smell gas."
The pilot lights were already lit and, noticing no other signs of danger, I attempted to ignore what I was smelling for a while. When that did not work, I tried to explain away my sensation as a fluke or a lingering whiff of an earlier problem. Still it persisted. Finally, I cut the gas, opened the windows and called the plumber. "I definitely smell gas," I said. Much to my surprise, the remote plumber actually replied, "No, you can't be smelling gas."
In this particular situation, and in contrast to other interactions I have had in ministry settings, I was able to quickly and clearly hold my ground. I said, "I do smell gas, in fact, and I need help finding a solution." This refreshing moment of clarity reminded me that it is not always so easy to hold the ground of true self. In the flow of life, we sometimes catch ourselves doubting what we smell. We might initially attempt to ignore it or succeed in explaining away our sensations for a time. When the smell still persists, however, we begin to second guess ourselves, occasionally surrendering our perspectives too quickly because someone has pressed against our convictions. To underestimate or fail to exercise our perspectives faithfully is to drift away from the authentic, Christ-centered self.
There will always be a place for the mutual refinement of ideas and perspectives, but the plumber's response was not in keeping with this kind of communal discernment. His response serves to point us toward two practical principles. First, do not tell another person what they do or do not smell. Each person is in the process of learning to exercise her or his own perspectives. Assume that the person in front of you is making a genuine attempt to name that unique perspective and, at the very least, do them the kindness of approaching their perspective-in-progress with respect. Secondly, trust your own senses as loyal companions. This includes the way you hear something and the feelings you experience, for example. Our impressions about something may not always be perfectly accurate, but let us not too quickly discount the subtle, interior responses that may be pointing toward a still emerging sense of truth. I believe that the Spirit works through inklings like these, slowly moving us toward insight. We may very well be smelling gas for a reason.
In the case of the old Tappan, I did eventually follow my own nose to not one but two gas leaks. Thanks to a bit of persistence and a couple small pipe wrenches, I am pleased to report that the aromas now lingering in the kitchen belong to my wife's heavenly huckleberry cobbler.