Basil fish

“Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness.”

1 John 2:9 NIV

We spent the past weekend with some friends. They were in town due to a family illness and camped at our house. Our friendship goes a long way back. My best friends then are still some of our best friends now. I have known some of them even longer than I have known Mary. It is a little ironic that they all like Mary more than they like me at this point, but I still get to be in the group.

From early on Basil fish, not his real name obviously, was unique. One of my earliest memories of him was at Octoberfest. In Hays, Kansas that is a big event with lots of people. We all used to go every year. But once everyone graduated and moved all over the state, we still made it a point to meet in Hays once a year. This particular year I remember we were going to take a group photo. This is where Basil fish comes in.

He did more than take pictures. It was art to him. It was in the name of his business. Unique. So, when we all stood for our memory making shot that year, he realized he did not have the lens he wanted, so he went to get it. Among a couple thousand other people we all stood there. He walked either all the way back to his car or all the way home, I am not sure and we all just stood there. Not one of us was surprised. It took around 30 minutes or so, but the shot was probably perfect. I don’t think any of us ever saw it because he had cases of undeveloped film in his house. Its probably still there.

I wanted to surprise my wife with some black and white pictures of our kids one year. I called him ahead of time and told him of my plan. We were going to be sneaky. Basil showed up with about two cases of equipment. He had light reflectors, shadow reflectors, nuclear fusion devices and I have no idea what all but any element of secrecy was blown. Mary just walked outside and capitalized on the obvious. “What are you doing?” The pictures were perfect, but they were not a surprise.

I knew his wife before I met him. When he entered the picture, we were all cautious because we did not want our friend to end up with a broken heart. We were protective. Man, we had nothing to worry about. She can get fired up. If he does you will never know it. He is the perfect calm to her heart. I have seen him directly in between wife and daughter when they were arguing like we all do sometimes. I have witnessed him play it out perfectly by not staying in the middle. He stayed perfectly placed right next to both of them. It is a difficult balance. I have only used “exudes peace” to describe two people, my friend and my son.

We had a conversation this weekend that will not leave my mind. To fully understand him you have to know that his skin is darker than mine. He has faced things in his life that I have not had to face and his wife was telling us about one of those times. It had to be her because he would literally never have done so. It’s not his style.

But we learned of a conversation in which someone judged him as nothing. Their kids, nothing. All dismissed because of brown skin. Here is the part that I want to remember. He looked up and asked us “When you hear that. How does it make you feel?” He did not ask how we felt about the person doing the dismissing. He asked how we felt. He was not asking if we agreed with such disdain. He knew we did not. He was asking because he was concerned about our hearts in spite of someone failing to recognize the love in his. It was beautiful.

When someone hurts you or someone you love, how does that make you feel? To be honest, I was mad. I learned that day that I do not have to be.

Why do we spend so much time judging either others or ourselves? What purpose does either serve?

Challenge: Jesus died to give us a pathway to paradise that is not attainable without Him. We have to remember that He took the job of judging and replaced it with grace. He gives that grace to us when we ask Him for it. I think we make people ask for grace when we should be more forgiving, like Basil fish.

Rick Claiborn