I was told a story recently of a group of coworkers that went out to lunch as a work function, a training. At the end of the meal, this one very sweet and well-meaning employee (someone quite low on the totem pole in this office) turned to the department manager and told her that she would cover the boss’s meal. The group of workers had already pitched in about ten bucks each for the boss, but this coworker just felt like getting a little something extra for her. But . . . the boss got irate at this gesture. She thought it was totally inappropriate and the well-meaning employee was left crushed by the experience.
There are two primary reasons for the inappropriateness of this gift. First, this is a work function and one employee (out of about a dozen others who were there) should not be paying for the boss (looks like brown-nosing). Second, and at a deeper level of social code, there is perhaps an embedded power expectation. This employee is several ranks below her boss. I’m willing to guess that the boss had such a strong reaction to the gift because the employee had no business offering such a gift (bruising her pride). It’s as if one of a lower social and economic status must never take the initiative of picking up the tab for one of higher social status (I know there are many exceptions, but go with me here . . .).
When I heard this story recounted, it reminded me of a provocative article I read over the summer for the book I indexed (Amazon link). The article is called, “Clemency as Cruelty: Forgiveness and Force in the Dying Prayers of Jesus and Stephen,” by Shelly Matthews. Matthews’ basic point is that the dying forgiveness prayers of Jesus and Stephen in Luke-Acts (Lk 23:34; Acts 7:60) should be understood as demonstrating the “heroic clemency” of the speaker. She relates it to the Roman discourse on clemency, “in which imperial domination is figured as beneficence toward the conquered.” She offers this point of reflection upon the comparison:
First, the power dynamics of clemency make clear that the prayers for mercy need not signal passivity, humility, submission or deference on the part of the one who so prays. Instead, the prayers for forgiveness can be understood as an assertion of power over those inscribed as persecutors. (143)
It strikes me that forgiveness as such an assertion of power by the persecuted is a bit like a low level employee picking up the tab for the department manager. Not that this particular employee was intentionally asserting her power or even trying to brown-nose, but it highlights the social code nonetheless. I suppose that raises the intentionality of Luke in his use of forgiveness prayers (an intentional assertion of power?). A topic for another post, perhaps.
