Mandate for the Margins
by Christopher C. Thompson, D.Min.
A few days ago I dropped my son off at school and because it was in the same direction I figured I keep going to my mechanic to get a quote on some repairs. As I was nearing my turn for the body shop, I saw an elderly gentleman with a can standing in the middle of the street attempting to hail people down. I stopped; mainly because I was concerned for his safety. People drive pretty fast on that road.
He was so thankful that I stopped. He wanted a ride to Walmart to add some minutes to his (prepaid) phone. I recognized an East African accent, and asked him where he was from. “Kenya,” he replied, with a gentle chuckle. The stench of alcohol and body odor was unmistakable. Yet, I felt so concerned for his safety, that I was inclined to take him so that, at least, he would be out of harm’s way. I took him. He went into the store, did his business, and came out. It took all of five minutes.
When he came out he praised me for being so gracious and he praised God for placing me at the right place at the right time. Then he made an additional request. He wanted to make an additional stop at the local liquor store. My initial thought was, “You obviously don’t need anything else to drink.” Then I remembered the man I met living in the city park in Pittsburgh back around 2010. He was so heavily addicted to alcohol that he was drinking store-brand Listerine—the original flavor. I learned a lot that day.
I also thought about a lady who pulled the bottle of gin out from under the couch in the middle of a Bible study. She apologized that she couldn’t function unless she had a drink. She poured her cup, took a sip, put the bottle back, apologized, and didn’t miss a beat with the Bible study. Needless to say, given my experience, I knew that this wasn’t the time to preach to him about the evils of alcoholism. I prioritized helping him get home safely.
After he conducted his business in the store, he came out and praised me some more. He thanked me over and over and praised God that I had been there and was willing to stop. He then insisted that I allow him to pay me just as he said he would from the beginning. I finally relented and handed me two five-dollar bills. It was a fairly brisk morning so I had the heat on, but I needed to roll the windows down a bit because the stench was becoming a bit much to handle.
I’ve spent the entire week reflecting on the Good Samaritan. I thought about how easy it would be for me to “pass by on the other side,” especially given the fact that it was a pretty busy day for me. It’s not like I didn’t have anywhere to be. Jesus told that story because the “law expert” tested him saying, “Who is my neighbor?” The Samaritan served as the quintessential example of what compassion, care, and love in action look like. I heard a preacher say recently that, “the injured man probably wouldn’t even have accepted help from a Samaritan if he had been conscious.” The Samaritan represents a relentless commitment to care, and demonstrated a level of care that breaks down barriers, ignores stereotypes, and combats prejudice.
Classism, racsim, bigotry, and the like is threatening to disrupt our commitment to care for our neighbors on the margins. Whether they be alcoholics, homeless, refugees, or illegal aliens, we have a moral and spiritual responsibility to care for those who are the most vulnerable. I have recently been struck by a quote from Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing. It challenges me to recalibrate and reorient my disposition towards marginalized people.
“The standard of the golden rule is the true standard of Christianity; anything short of it is a deception. A religion that leads men to place a low estimate upon human beings, whom Christ has esteemed of such value as to give Himself for them; a religion that would lead us to be careless of human needs, sufferings, or rights, is a spurious religion. In slighting the claims of the poor, the suffering, and the sinful, we are proving ourselves traitors to Christ. It is because men take upon themselves the name of Christ, while in life they deny His character, that Christianity has so little power in the world. The name of the Lord is blasphemed because of these things.”
The political battle rages along these lines. Nevertheless, our mandate is clear. No matter the law of the land, the law of God is clear. We have to draw near in order to care. It was Bryan Stevenson who said, that our power is in our ability and willingness to get proximal to the pain and problems of others. If we persist in passing by on the other side, God is dishonored and the name of God is blasphemed. It’s almost time for the Lord to come. This rampant injustice against people on the margins is evidence of the work of the enemy to deceive, steal, kill, and destroy by any means necessary at the end of time. God’s people will be—must be—committed to honoring God by combating hate and demonstrating love.
I almost forgot to tell you that he shared a little of his story as we rode together. He apparently came to the States on a track scholarship. He spent a successful career in teaching, but he and his wife divorced. I later learned that he recently lost his son to a drug overdose. I assumed some things about him before I even heard his story. But there’s one thing I noticed, and that stood out to me. He kept referring to me as “brother.” Ironic because he was clearly old enough to be my dad. But even more ironic is that he immediately and consistently acknowledged me as a brother. If only the church had that same commitment to adopt him and people on the margins like him and make them our brothers and sisters. I’m confident that would make God very proud.
Christopher C. Thompson is editor of Best Practices.
