I was in the lowest level of band — the band where the kids who couldn’t make the Concert Band or the Varsity Band were placed. There were only about fifteen of us, not enough to actually play anything as a band. So we basically just had individual lessons with the instructor, who clearly hated being there.
I played the trombone…badly.
So, those of us who weren’t receiving instruction on our instruments basically spent the entire hour screwing off. One day, I somehow found myself in a small corridor off the band room with a couple other guys, guys with whom I did not get along.
Tensions were rising. They were bullying me physically, and I was countering them verbally. Then, one of them slapped me hard across the face.
Tears burned in my eyes. My cheeks flushed red, and my I felt my throat immediately go dry. My heart pounded in my chest.
And, something possessed me to put into practice the verse that I’d heard so many times.
I looked at him, turned my face, and said with a quivering voice, “Here, hit my other cheek, too.”
He and his friend looked at me, dumbfounded, and walked away.
That’s it. That’s the end of the story.
Have you ever tried turning the other cheek?