Did you hear the joke about the applicants for a very important business job? The candidates were required to have a mastery of accounting skills, proficiency in contract negotiation, and the ability to get along with and lead people. There were over two dozen applicants, which were eventually narrowed down to three. Of the final three candidates, the first was highly qualified with many years of experience in similar positions; the second moderately qualified, and the third had no prior experience. The decision was easy; the job went to the former minor league baseball player with nice shoes and a pretty wife. (Insert canned sitcom laugh track here.) Maybe you heard the one about the businessman who sized-up the value and character of his clients and employees with his special eye contact technique. He would look at their shoes, and see their soles. (canned sitcom laugh) Or perhaps you heard the one about a gathering of college friends. The host had invited old friends along with a professional colleague that only he and his wife knew. Much of the evening was spent talking about the professional colleague’s shoes. I’ll pause briefly while you regain your composure from laughing so much.
I’ll bet by now you’re hoping that none of the above are actual jokes. Why? Its plain and simple – they’re not funny; they’re kind of disturbing. You may have felt a bit uncomfortable reading them. I was uncomfortable writing them, not because it was hard to make up each story, but because each was true.
A member of the applicant selection committee actually raved about the successful candidate’s shoes, and was rather harsh regarding the other finalists’ wardrobes. That member wanted to work with the man who wore “nice shoes.” The businessman in the second story, who was not a shoe salesman, would often offer advice on how to “size-up” a person. It always involved their shoes. His gaze started at the feet and eventually moved to the person’s face. In time, a person would come to learn that they were in his good graces if they heard him say, “Nice shoes.” In the last story, the college party “shoe-talk” didn’t take place behind that new person’s back. It took place right in front of the guy, which as it turned out, he liked. What started as small talk had quickly turned into full-blown shoe-worship, and a lot of people at the party wanted to be his friend. He had some really “nice and expensive shoes.” I learned much more about those shoes that night (which I have since thankfully forgotten) than I did about the person who wore them.
It would be all too easy for me to say that each of the persons in those stories who formed their opinions about people and based their relationships with them on account of “nice shoes” was a heel, but before I get self-righteous, I need to admit that I too have been a “Sole Man;” I have been guilty of judging people by their outward appearance. My opinion of them might have been based on their address. Or it might have been based on their career choice, an accent, maybe the size of their family, or possibly a pair of hideous slippers that looked like elephants (really). The list could go on, but I think you get what I’m saying. Everyone can, and generally does, get caught up in judging by outward appearances.
Even the Prophet Samuel was deceived by appearances (1 Samuel 16:1-13). God instructed Samuel to anoint a new king for Israel that God had chosen from among Jesse’s sons. After Samuel saw the first of Jesse’s sons, Samuel concluded that Eliab must surely be the anointed one. God quickly pointed out to Samuel an uncomfortable truth for all of us. He said, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things a man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” Afterward, Samuel made no presumption as to which of Jesse’s sons God had chosen, but he waited for God to reveal His choice. Eventually, God identified the youngest son, David, as the one to be anointed.
God didn’t mince words with Samuel, and He doesn’t mince words with us. He makes it clear that we men and women look at outward appearances, and He looks at the heart. God tells us we make our decisions on the wrong set of standards, but He does not. Our standards are shallow. His Standards are deep. Left on our own, we would be resigned to making choices and basing our judgments on flawed standards, but God doesn’t leave us on our own. He has given us His Holy Spirit so we can be counseled and guided in His ways. The Holy Spirit teaches us and reveals what is truly important.
Without His discernment and insight, I would remain a “Sole Man.” You would too.
Grace to you.
Dave Paukner
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