"On the basis of this parable (The Good Samaritan) we must seek justice for, and offer assistance to, those in need, regardless of the group to which they belong."
Klyne Snodgrass
In this world there are a myriad of different beliefs, groups and customs which often boil down to a simple…
‘This is how we do things.’
And unless you are hurting people, then that’s fine.
But when you hurt people who fall outside your view of how things should be done, then really that’s not fine is it? Or if you are someone who used to do things a ‘certain way’ because you were part of a tribe and the tribe hurts you when you step away to become who God truly made you – than that’s not fine either is it?
Many, especially with evangelical Christianity, would say it’s not about how we do things, we are not religious. But that is discordant with what actually happens within those organisations. You can call yourself a fish, but if you roam the savanna looking for prey you are not a fish – you are a predator.
Here’s the problem.
We can witness something that is very clearly wrong and do nothing about it. Even when it is right in front of our faces, we walk on by.
Why?
Because we are invested into our system, our tribe, our group. It brings us security, a place of belonging. We want to believe we are on the side of love, truth and goodness. The reality is though that any belief system, or community or tribe is flawed. We do not live in a black and white world of pure good or pure evil.
Such a dichotomic view of life is a problem if you act upon it.
It means you can stand by and watch your tribe abuse and hurt others as you passionately believe you are on the side of good or it is for their own good.
This week my best friend was sent a message warning him that he needed to be part of a church or he would be in a place where it would be ‘so easy to fall into sin.’ The message originated from a person who leads up pastoral care in a church he used to go to called Bethany Community Church in Harpenden. A New Frontiers/Catalyst church. That church abused him and his family and urged him that the issues he was dealing with with his mental health could only be sorted through prayer. The message he received this week was the abuser saying come back and be abused.
To make it worse we are in a pandemic. I have been guarding my mental health, as we all hopefully have, for over two months now of being housebound whilst I look after my vulnerable son. The last thing I need is to be attacked in this way. I have contributed to a weekly liturgy sheet called Liturgy in a Dangerous Time by Simon Cross and Andy Campbell, to help those of faith during this lockdown that has been read by hundreds of people. I have written a book of modern parables to help regain the art of story-telling in framing a spiritual world. But no, apparently to others I am deeply in sin just for being me. For being authentic and embracing who God has made me.
Believe whatever helps you be a better version of yourself. A loving, caring human being with empathy and friends, joy and peace. You won’t believe the same things as me. It doesn’t matter, indeed diversity of thought is good. What matters is the fruit. I have no issue anymore with what people believe. What I do have issues with is how people behave.
To come under attack in such a personal way and to have no-one from that church defend me is, I guess, understandable but deeply hurtful. There is such a thing as common decency. Instead of an apology that person has blocked me and there is silence from that tribe. I know how the system works first hand. ‘There will be things you don’t know about her that we can’t talk to you about,’ is often the tactic employed by people who attack you and don’t want to be questioned by the tribe they lead. That is what was said to me when my friend, that I mentioned earlier, first started to move away from them. I was told, ‘there are things you don’t know. We are trying to help him.’ It was deeply persuasive for about 10 minutes until I snapped out of it and remembered this was my best friend who I knew in a deep way and trusted: that they were attempting to manipulate me.
We all like the parable of the Good Samaritan. But how do you react if you are the Samaritan and the traveller who is stripped of clothing, beaten, and left half dead before you tells you that one of the leaders of your own people people did this? Do you still stop and help? Or is that too much? You walk on not wanting to confront the ugly truth? Because the cost to you is suddenly a lot higher.
A lot.
And there are few people who stop and help in that situation because it takes great courage.
And if you know me…
If we are friends and you walk on by, I am not a stranger to you - then that indeed is a thing of great sadness.