A friend of mine was recently verbally abused at a bus stop. He was told to go back to his country and take his filthy diseases with him (my paraphrase). My friend is here on a work visa, married to a Canadian, and employed as a pastor at a church. The lady obviously didn't know anything about him, his legal status, or his hygienic habits. Because the colour of his skin was a slight shade different than hers, she felt free to judge him. [1] I must admit that when I heard about the incident, I felt a bit free to judge that lady, too, even though I know nothing about her and have no idea why she felt threatened by a kind, gentle, and compassionate man. I am reminded of the saying, "Don't judge someone until you have walked a mile in their moccasins." Walking a mile in someone else's shoes is not easy, especially since we find our own shoes so much more comfortable, but it is central to the gospel of Jesus.
In John 1, we see Jesus interacting with two of John's disciples. John has just pointed out that Jesus is the Lamb of God, and these disciples are intrigued. They want to know more, so they start to follow Jesus.
Jesus: What is it that you want?
Two Disciples: We'd like to know where You are staying. Teacher, may we remain at Your side today?
Jesus: Come and see. Follow Me, and we will camp together.
It was about four o-clock in the afternoon when they met Jesus. They came and saw where He was staying, but they got more than they imagined. They remained with Him the rest of the day and followed Him for the rest of their lives. (John 1:36-41, The Voice)
I like this particular translation/paraphrase of the incident because it adds some meaningful commentary (the words in italics) which fleshes out the implications of the interaction. The potential disciples want to hang out with Jesus and find out what he is all about. Jesus replies with that wonderful, concise invitation, "Come and see." What does he mean by this? The Greek word for "come" is erchomai. It means "to come, to go, moving from one place to another." While English speakers might think that using the same word for "come" and "go" is rather imprecise, the expansive nature of the term allows it to express a sense that moving or going is always related to the welcome waiting at the end of the journey. Perhaps we have something to learn from this close association between commission and invitation. The Greek word for "see" is horao and it means to look upon, experience, perceive. In other words, it is much more than just observing something with your sense of sight. To see means to experience and understand in some way.
The invitation to "Come and see" is not an invitation to be a tourist, to see a few sights, taste a bit of local food, take a few selfies with the natives, and move on. The invitation to "Come and see" is a call to move in. Eugene Peterson captures this sentiment when he paraphrases John 1:14. "The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighbourhood" (The Message). The reason Jesus issues the invitation to "Come and see" is because it is part of his incarnational message, and he has already modeled it. Jesus came and saw what it meant to be fully human. He lived among us and did virtually nothing but become familiar with our world for the first thirty years of his life. He did not seek to teach/minister/heal until he had learned what it meant to be a human being in the first century. Jesus came to this world not as a tourist, but as a resident. He came as a baby, learning from day one what it meant to be hungry, to have growing pains, to be tired, to feel pain, to obey your parents, to be part of a family, to trust others to take care of you, to work hard, to learn by listening and imitating. His first task was not to save the world, but to live in the world, to "Come and see."
We sometimes miss this vital part of the gospel of Jesus. Before we invite people into our church gatherings or expect them to adopt our worldview and faith, we should consider being present in their settings and learning what it is like to walk in their shoes. Hospitality is more that just inviting people over to our homes for a meal or a brief stay in our guest room. Hospitality includes going to other people's spaces, getting out of our comfort zones (where we have some measure of control) and going and seeing what life looks like for someone else.
There is a story (I can't find the original source, so I might get some details wrong) about a group of well-meaning Westerners who showed up in a poor village in a distant country, intent on helping the people there establish more sustainable ways of living. The villagers struggled to maintain a consistent, plentiful food supply, so the foreigners decided that the perfect solution was to plant crops. They decided to start off with tomatoes, and rallied all the villagers to work together on preparing the ground and planting rows and rows of plants. The results were encouraging. Within a few months, round, red orbs were ripening on the vines. One night, when the tomatoes were almost ready to harvest, the wildlife in the area descended on the field and ate and trampled the entire crop. The next morning, the foreigners were devastated by the sight of the destroyed plants, but the villagers just shrugged. The foreigners were puzzled as to why the villagers were not more upset by the loss of an entire crop of food. The villagers replied that they knew this would happen. The wildlife always came to eat anything they grew, so they did not plant large fields of crops out in the open. The foreigners were a bit miffed. Why had no one told them this before they had put all that time, money, and effort into planting a crop? The villagers said, "You never asked," and added,"You were so excited about the project that we didn't want to be impolite and refuse to help." Truth be told, the foreigners acted more like tourists than residents, imposing their ideas on the locals instead of taking the time to come and see, to learn from the villagers, to spend time walking a mile in their shoes before asserting their Western ideas. Sadly, some of the church's missionary efforts more closely resemble tourism than "come and see" incarnation.
So how do we begin to practice being with others in a meaningful way? How do we "come and see?" I have no easy solutions, but I do have a few suggestions.
1. Learn to listen. By this I do not mean a passive posture where we let someone talk while we think about our clever response, but an active, engaged, intentional entering into the story of another. True listening means that we refrain from offering advice (unless specifically asked for), refrain from prescribing a course of action, refrain from relating everything back to our own situation (thereby pulling the focus away from them and back to us), and use imaginative compassion to put ourselves into their situation, to see ourselves walking a mile in their shoes.
2. Go to people in their settings. I don't mean intruding on people's lives or showing up at someone's door without concern for their ability to receive visitors, but making ourselves available to be with people in their setting in a way that shows our genuine interest in them and their situation. The posture is one of learning, of humble openness to see the world through their eyes. It requires time and patience, ears to hear and eyes to see. There is an organisation called Movein which encourages Christians to prayerfully move in among the unreached, urban poor. Their mission is to love their neighbours by living among them, by being one of them. In this way, the gospel is not something presented by outsiders; it lives next door. [2]
3. Develop purposeful habits.
a. If you are a reader, read books which will take you out of your own experience. One of my friends has this rule: for every one book he reads by a white male, he reads two by a woman or person of colour. [3]
b. If you are present on social media, make sure your circle of friends or your feed includes viewpoints which challenge yours. Learn how to listen without interjecting or arguing. Learn how to interact kindly with those who think differently than you do and whose experience is different from yours.
c. We cannot be physical neighbours to everyone, but we can look for opportunities to stand in solidarity with those who have been wounded or are struggling. Let them know that they are not alone. When a white supremacist marched into a black church in Charleston, South Carolina during a prayer service in 2015 and killed 9 people, the community was in shock. A small black church in Halifax, Nova Scotia called a prayer vigil to mourn the tragedy and pray for reconciliation. They issued personal invitations to all the churches in the city and got the word out in the media. A friend of mine who attended this prayer meeting said that aside from a few invited officials asked to speak from the platform, only 6 people outside the black community showed up. [4] We must do better than this. We must learn to love our neighbours in the way that Jesus described in the parable of the good Samaritan. We don't have to agree with everything someone says or believes or even like them in order to be their neighbour. We do have to be people who will stand with those who are struggling and hurt and in need of help.
I close with a poem penned by Mary T. Lathrap in 1895. Its words ring clear and true to this day.
Walk a Mile in His Moccasins
Pray, don't find fault with the man that limps,
Or stumbles along the road.
Unless you have worn the moccasins he wears,
Or stumbled beneath the same load.
There may be tears in his soles that hurt
Though hidden away from view.
The burden he bears placed on your back
May cause you to stumble and fall, too.
Don't sneer at the man who is down today
Unless you have felt the same blow
That caused his fall or felt the shame
That only the fallen know.
You may be strong, but still the blows
That were his, unknown to you in the same way
[1] Thanks to Suhail Stephen for letting me share this story.
Jesus: What is it that you want?
Two Disciples: We'd like to know where You are staying. Teacher, may we remain at Your side today?
Jesus: Come and see. Follow Me, and we will camp together.
It was about four o-clock in the afternoon when they met Jesus. They came and saw where He was staying, but they got more than they imagined. They remained with Him the rest of the day and followed Him for the rest of their lives. (John 1:36-41, The Voice)
I like this particular translation/paraphrase of the incident because it adds some meaningful commentary (the words in italics) which fleshes out the implications of the interaction. The potential disciples want to hang out with Jesus and find out what he is all about. Jesus replies with that wonderful, concise invitation, "Come and see." What does he mean by this? The Greek word for "come" is erchomai. It means "to come, to go, moving from one place to another." While English speakers might think that using the same word for "come" and "go" is rather imprecise, the expansive nature of the term allows it to express a sense that moving or going is always related to the welcome waiting at the end of the journey. Perhaps we have something to learn from this close association between commission and invitation. The Greek word for "see" is horao and it means to look upon, experience, perceive. In other words, it is much more than just observing something with your sense of sight. To see means to experience and understand in some way.
The invitation to "Come and see" is not an invitation to be a tourist, to see a few sights, taste a bit of local food, take a few selfies with the natives, and move on. The invitation to "Come and see" is a call to move in. Eugene Peterson captures this sentiment when he paraphrases John 1:14. "The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighbourhood" (The Message). The reason Jesus issues the invitation to "Come and see" is because it is part of his incarnational message, and he has already modeled it. Jesus came and saw what it meant to be fully human. He lived among us and did virtually nothing but become familiar with our world for the first thirty years of his life. He did not seek to teach/minister/heal until he had learned what it meant to be a human being in the first century. Jesus came to this world not as a tourist, but as a resident. He came as a baby, learning from day one what it meant to be hungry, to have growing pains, to be tired, to feel pain, to obey your parents, to be part of a family, to trust others to take care of you, to work hard, to learn by listening and imitating. His first task was not to save the world, but to live in the world, to "Come and see."
We sometimes miss this vital part of the gospel of Jesus. Before we invite people into our church gatherings or expect them to adopt our worldview and faith, we should consider being present in their settings and learning what it is like to walk in their shoes. Hospitality is more that just inviting people over to our homes for a meal or a brief stay in our guest room. Hospitality includes going to other people's spaces, getting out of our comfort zones (where we have some measure of control) and going and seeing what life looks like for someone else.
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| Image from madeforpakistan.com |
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| Image from dailyemerald.com |
So how do we begin to practice being with others in a meaningful way? How do we "come and see?" I have no easy solutions, but I do have a few suggestions.
1. Learn to listen. By this I do not mean a passive posture where we let someone talk while we think about our clever response, but an active, engaged, intentional entering into the story of another. True listening means that we refrain from offering advice (unless specifically asked for), refrain from prescribing a course of action, refrain from relating everything back to our own situation (thereby pulling the focus away from them and back to us), and use imaginative compassion to put ourselves into their situation, to see ourselves walking a mile in their shoes.
2. Go to people in their settings. I don't mean intruding on people's lives or showing up at someone's door without concern for their ability to receive visitors, but making ourselves available to be with people in their setting in a way that shows our genuine interest in them and their situation. The posture is one of learning, of humble openness to see the world through their eyes. It requires time and patience, ears to hear and eyes to see. There is an organisation called Movein which encourages Christians to prayerfully move in among the unreached, urban poor. Their mission is to love their neighbours by living among them, by being one of them. In this way, the gospel is not something presented by outsiders; it lives next door. [2]
3. Develop purposeful habits.
a. If you are a reader, read books which will take you out of your own experience. One of my friends has this rule: for every one book he reads by a white male, he reads two by a woman or person of colour. [3]
b. If you are present on social media, make sure your circle of friends or your feed includes viewpoints which challenge yours. Learn how to listen without interjecting or arguing. Learn how to interact kindly with those who think differently than you do and whose experience is different from yours.
c. We cannot be physical neighbours to everyone, but we can look for opportunities to stand in solidarity with those who have been wounded or are struggling. Let them know that they are not alone. When a white supremacist marched into a black church in Charleston, South Carolina during a prayer service in 2015 and killed 9 people, the community was in shock. A small black church in Halifax, Nova Scotia called a prayer vigil to mourn the tragedy and pray for reconciliation. They issued personal invitations to all the churches in the city and got the word out in the media. A friend of mine who attended this prayer meeting said that aside from a few invited officials asked to speak from the platform, only 6 people outside the black community showed up. [4] We must do better than this. We must learn to love our neighbours in the way that Jesus described in the parable of the good Samaritan. We don't have to agree with everything someone says or believes or even like them in order to be their neighbour. We do have to be people who will stand with those who are struggling and hurt and in need of help.
I close with a poem penned by Mary T. Lathrap in 1895. Its words ring clear and true to this day.
Walk a Mile in His Moccasins
Pray, don't find fault with the man that limps,
Or stumbles along the road.
Unless you have worn the moccasins he wears,
Or stumbled beneath the same load.
There may be tears in his soles that hurt
Though hidden away from view.
The burden he bears placed on your back
May cause you to stumble and fall, too.
Don't sneer at the man who is down today
Unless you have felt the same blow
That caused his fall or felt the shame
That only the fallen know.
You may be strong, but still the blows
That were his, unknown to you in the same way
May cause you to stagger and fall, too.
Don't be too harsh with the man that sins.
Or pelt him with words, or stone, or disdain.
Unless you are sure you have no sins of your own,
And it's only wisdom and love that your heart contains.
For you know if the tempter's voice
Should whisper as soft to you,
As it did to him when he went astray,
It might cause you to falter, too.
Just walk a mile in his moccasins
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse.
If just for one hour, you could find a way
To see through his eyes, instead of your own muse.
I believe you'd be surprised to see
That you've been blind and narrow minded, even unkind.
There are people on reservations and in the ghettos
Who have so little hope, and too much worry on their minds.
Brother, there but for the grace of God go you and I.
Just for a moment, slip into his mind and traditions
And see the world through his spirit and eyes
Before you cast a stone or falsely judge his conditions.
Remember to walk a mile in his moccasins
And remember the lessons of humanity taught to you by your elders.
We will be known forever by the tracks we leave
In other people's lives, our kindnesses and generosity.
Take the time to walk a mile in his moccasins.
Don't be too harsh with the man that sins.
Or pelt him with words, or stone, or disdain.
Unless you are sure you have no sins of your own,
And it's only wisdom and love that your heart contains.
For you know if the tempter's voice
Should whisper as soft to you,
As it did to him when he went astray,
It might cause you to falter, too.
Just walk a mile in his moccasins
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse.
If just for one hour, you could find a way
To see through his eyes, instead of your own muse.
I believe you'd be surprised to see
That you've been blind and narrow minded, even unkind.
There are people on reservations and in the ghettos
Who have so little hope, and too much worry on their minds.
Brother, there but for the grace of God go you and I.
Just for a moment, slip into his mind and traditions
And see the world through his spirit and eyes
Before you cast a stone or falsely judge his conditions.
Remember to walk a mile in his moccasins
And remember the lessons of humanity taught to you by your elders.
We will be known forever by the tracks we leave
In other people's lives, our kindnesses and generosity.
Take the time to walk a mile in his moccasins.
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| Image from kindnessblog.com |
[2] www.movein.to
[3] Thanks to Chad Lucas for this bit of wisdom.
[4] Thanks to Beth Wood for letting me share this story.
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