YOUTH MATTERS: Don’t Punch the Pig – Choice in Adversity
By Sam Clear, Director of the Office of Youth Evangelisation
No, it’s not a metaphor, but stay with me on this! In mid-2007 I walked through steaming hot tropical southern Mexico. As I wound my way along through the rain past a mixture of tiny farms cut into rainforest, I approached an isolated, collapsed palm-leaf-thatched bus shelter. I crawled in under the angled roof for protection from the rain while eating morning tea.
Within a few minutes a huge pig appeared beside me. I flinched before laughing, realising it was just a big pig. It checked me out and then turned in the other direction towards my backpack.
It smelt the food in it and proceeded to try to eat through my backpack to get to the food. I attempted to push the pig out of the way to save my pack, but the pig didn’t like being touched.
It turned on me aggressively, grunting at me and taking snaps at my hands. I gave a few pushes to the pig’s head, but that only infuriated it more. I was trapped in the collapsed bus stop and, panicking a little, I reacted instinctively, drawing my fist back. Before I could throw a punch though, I caught myself. I didn’t want to punch the pig.
It felt wrong to punch the pig. I released my fist and instead grabbed a biscuit that I was eating for morning tea and held it up above the pig’s head. Its demeanour changed from aggression to, “I want that food”, and so I dropped the biscuit on the other side of it, forcing it to turn away from me. I then quickly leant in and scratched it behind the ear.
I didn’t know that pigs have a very sensitive bundle of nerves behind their ears, and I hit it. That pig gave an involuntary convulsion and went, ‘flop’, onto the ground in front of me. I felt sorry for it, so I kept scratching it behind the ear, before proceeding to give it a massage. The pig relaxed and closed its eyes. I was able to then pick my backpack up, still intact, and walk on down the road leaving the pig to rest.
Had I punched the pig in the head, or had I given it a biscuit and massage, I would have ended up with the same end result; I get my backpack back – and I was justified to fight for my only possession – but for the pig, it would have been a very different story.
In one scenario it receives comfort, in the other scenario it receives a whopping great headache. It became in invaluable lesson as I walked on. In every situation that I didn’t like, how can I choose my response and not just act on instinct because I feel justified.
“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,” (James 1:19).