Persuasion is a very tall order, isn't it?

"Are you still so dull?" Jesus asked them. (Matthew 15:16)

A cursory reading of the New Testament will yield the Master's range of emotions, including exasperation, which is seen in the above epigram.

In the verse immediately preceding the one noted above, St. Peter had asked Jesus to explain to the disciples a parable about eating.

The fisherman, whom the Lord would entrust leadership of the nascent church, wanted Jesus to drill down on what foods do not defile a person.

Asked and answered, Peter.

"Are you still so dull?" reads the popular New International Version.

The New Living Translation puts it this way: "Don't you understand yet?"

Lifelong learning

I've discovered helping people to understand, to comprehend, to "get it," is far from an easy task.

Preaching, I discovered with bitter tears and much repetition, is not a persuasive activity.

Many times following the homiletic moment while shaking hands after worship, I had the distinct feeling that parishioners not only weren't persuaded by what they'd heard from the pulpit, they couldn't even recall what I'd said.

Slowly and reluctantly, I came around to the idea that my role was not to persuade but simply to plant a seed in the minds of the folks in the pew.

My hope became that the Holy Spirit would spiritually water the seed and perhaps one day it would germinate.

But I didn't hold my breath.

A relevant anecdote

While waiting for a haircut last week, I leafed through the August 2020 issue of Military Trader magazine, a trade publication that caught my eye.

Inside was an article about the Allied effort immediately after World War II to feed malnourished Germans, particularly those living in the capital of Berlin in the summer of 1945.

Starvation was an active concern in the first months following the defeat of the Nazis.

Germany was in ruins, and the United States government, which had an abundance of corn, was sending a huge shipment of maize to the conquered nation.

Only one problem -- the indigenous population wouldn't touch it.

Germans, the magazine opined, didn't view corn as nutrition for people but rather food for cows and other animals.

A German friend who now lives in Cape Girardeau County confirmed this attitude from her homeland as we texted back and forth this week.

Note this relevant paragraph from the magazine:

"Corn, even where abundant, was not part of the German diet. It was considered to be animal fodder and not meant for human consumption. Attempts in the Allied Zones to make (corn) into food for people had been dismal failures."

My aforementioned friend said corn, even today, is not something many Germans would likely eat, and restaurants tend not to serve it.

Freedom of choice

We have the freedom not to understand. Jesus didn't like it but accepted his original disciples weren't grasping his words.

Germans had the freedom not to eat corn. The managers of postwar food rations, especially from the U.S., were puzzled by this refusal but accepted the result.

Americans have the freedom not to cover our mouths and noses during COVID-19. I find this declination extremely frustrating but accept that voluntary compliance is much preferable to making masking mandatory.