Beans in Their Ears

“Why is it,” philosopher/poet Carl Sandburg once said, “When you tell a child not to put beans in their ears, the first thing they do is put beans in their ears.” Rebellion, some might say, is a learned behavior, often taught through example by parents. It occurs to me, however, it’s more likely a malady ingrained in the human condition.

For instance, what do we so-called mature adults do when we see a sign on a park bench that says, “Wet Paint, Don’t Touch?” I don’t know about you, dear reader, but as for me, I would more than likely at least touch it to see if it were so. And maybe strolling through the same park, we notice another sign requesting us to “Stay Off The Grass.” You and I would probably take a few steps off the path anyway, just to prove our… well whatever you call it. It’s really rebellion against authority, real or imagined. Right?

Let’s say we leave the park and we saunter out to our car and head for home. The speed limit is clearly posted in town as 35. But hey, who of us does not push the envelope a bit up to 45 or 50? I’m guilty! Out on the freeway or bypass where the speed limit says 55 or 65 or even 70, oftentimes, even if you are one of the law-abiding folks, or when a police car is not in sight, 75 or even 80 is often the rule. Out in Southern California where I’m from, if you’re driving the posted speed limit on, say for instance, the Santa Ana Freeway, chances are you’ll be ticketed or at least admonished severely to keep up with the traffic, no matter what the speed. The reason? Better to keep it moving than obeying the posted signs. Go figure!

Just recently, I read a devotional piece by Haddon Robinson in the Our Daily Bread booklet that reminded me again for the first time of an incident that occurred in a hotel down in Galveston, Texas. Now the hotel was right on the Gulf of Mexico, and the management placed signs in the rooms stating, “No Fishing From The Balcony.” Guess what: Guests fished from the balconies anyway. Realizing the signs were ineffective, they were eventually removed. Consequently, fishing from the balconies suddenly stopped. Go figure again!

When I was a boy, growing up in the 1930s, we didn’t have TVs or computer games or even stereos. Summer evenings were spent out in the neighborhood with other kids playing kick the can or hide and seek for entertainment. Oh, we had radios of course – giant Philcos with a green eye for tuning in our 15-minute mystery programs, usually laying flat on our backs in the dark on the living room floor. Great for developing imaginations. And there were times during those summer nights when neighborhood peach and apricot trees were heavy with ripe, or nearly ripe, fruit. We were told not to touch the succulent delicacies that didn’t belong to us, but rebellion kicked in and when it was dark enough, over the fences we scurried to fill our pockets with the forbidden fruit. Did we really need the stolen stuff? After all, the chances were good that we had trees in our own back yards, every bit as heavily laden. Still, stolen peaches tasted sweeter somehow, and the excitement of doing something we were told not to do had deliciousness about it that was difficult, if not downright impossible to ignore.

Even the Apostle Paul confessed to the temptations that beset him. In his epistle to the Romans, Chapter 7, Paul shares his human weaknesses with us. In verse 14, he says he is carnal, sold under sin. “For what I am doing,” he says, “I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do.” He goes on to say in verse 18, “For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells…” “O wretched man that I am!” He says in verse 24, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” And in verse 25: “I thank God – through Jesus Christ our Lord! So with the mind I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin.”

So why do we tempt the law enforcement folks, touch painted benches, trod on forbidden grass and even rebel against no fishing signs? Well, it seems we have to look back down our genealogies to our very first grandparents who chose to rebel against God and eat fruit from the one, and the only, tree in the entire beautiful garden that God had nailed a “Do Not Eat” sign. And to answer Sandburg’s “Why is it...?” question, it occurs to me that Grandma Eve and Grandpa Adam started us down the slippery slope of rebellion; and as I see it, our kids will continue putting beans in their ears and we more mature folks will keep on ignoring signs. Until, that is, we ask Jesus to forgive our lawless rebellion and allow the Holy Spirit to teach us to obey in the little and large areas of our lives.