We often hear people speaking about turning the other cheek. It is a phrase quite commonly used and sometimes we forget that the words came from the lips of Jesus Himself.
I have an experience long ago which taught me vividly the meaning and the value of the phrase, and it all started with a dog who misbehaved!
We had a boisterous boxer dog called Dale. He has brown and white patches and a mischievous, yet appealing face. Above all, he had an outrageously exuberant nature. In other words, Dale was a typical boxer.
These were the days of our first Parish of Swinton in Berwickshire, and we had plenty of room for Dale to exercise. He could burn up his surplus energy with no problem since the garden covered fully one and a three quarter acres.
The whole of the garden was enclosed. There were hedges to the south and west, stout fence made of railway sleepers to the north and a high stone wall to the east.
The front garden was retained by a stone wall and was enclosed by privet hedge, so that people walking along the pavement had their heads level with the roots of the hedge.
Dale loved to lie in wait behind the hedge, and when someone passed by he would poke his head through and bark loudly in their ear!
After the initial shock, the good folk of Swinton became accustomed to the minister’s mad dog. Indeed Dale became a firm favorite – until the day he blotted his copybook!
Jock Moscrop owned a farm nearby with the delightful name of Morning Bank, or The Dub, as it was known locally. He was good natured and friendly and always had a ready smile and a kind word. He was a worthy neighbor and we got on well together.
One day, though, he arrived at the door, and he wasn’t smiling.
“Have you any idea where your dog is, Mr. McPherson?” he growled.
“In the garden, I think,” I answered.
“No he’s not in your garden! He’s been down in my fields rampaging about and creating havoc!” From behind his back he produced a headless hen.
“That,” he declared, “is just one. There are several more lying dead back there.”
I have never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in all my life. I could not imagine how Dale had got out of the garden, but I apologised profusely and offered to pay for his losses.
Jock, while accepting my apology, would not hear of any payment, which was very generous of him. But he did insist, naturally, that I made sure the dog did not stray from the manse garden in future.
Time passed and the incident was happily forgotten. At least I have happily forgotten it. But that Christmas I had another visit from Jock Moscrop. My heart missed a beat when I opened the door and saw him standing there.
I immediately imagined that Dale had escaped again and had wrought some more devastation among the poultry. But Jock was his usual smiling self that day.
“I just brought a wee Christmas present for you and your wife,” he said. From behind his back he produced a chicken beautifully plucked, cleaned and trussed!
On any other occasion, the gift would have been a kindly one, but in the light of the damage Dale had caused earlier that year, this was a very special gift indeed. It was not just a chicken; it was a token of forgiveness, a sign of a generous and kindly heart.
It reminded me of Jesus’ teaching.
“I say unto you … if a man smites thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”
