Sometimes on Saturday mornings, I have breakfast as a little local restaurant. Each time, there are half a dozen middle-aged men who hold a Bible study group, discussing the possible meanings of various passages in the Good Book that each of them has flagged during the week. I don’t really eavesdrop, as they are sitting several tables away, but their voices carry, probably because they’re more devout than I am, and it’s hard not to listen in.
Today, they delved into a passage that seemed to suggest that, if you encounter a person who is in need, you should resist your initial temptation to reach out and help, because God may already be dealing with the issue. It wouldn’t be right to interfere. Your best bet would be to take note of the situation, then pray for the person.
After nearly choking on my toast, I regained my composure and continued listening, as the study group members recounted situations where they “could have” loaned money, taken someone in, or otherwise helped, but – lo, and behold – they did nothing but pray, and things turned out fine in the end.
I’m not a churchgoing person. I think of myself as a Secular Altruist. I have some abilities and assets that I can deploy for the benefit of others, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to be of service. However, I got the sense from my limited contact with organized Christianity and other religions we should do unto others as we would have others do unto us.
If we come upon someone who’s clearly distraught, sobbing alone, we could ask them if they were okay or if we could help, put an arm around them, or just give them a Kleenex. If a family is broken down by the side of the highway, we can call the State Police on our mobile phone, stop and offer them some water and snacks, or – if we’re mechanically minded – take a look and see if we can help. If the lady ahead of us in line at the supermarket is having trouble finding enough cash in her wallet, we can hand the check-out clerk some money to help out.
Or we could look the other way, and make a mental note to pray for the person.
Maybe these guys have stumbled upon the Lost Gospel of Ayn Rand (other than the suggestion that prayer would have any efficacy). The Bible now says it’s okay to walk on by. God will take care of the problem; you’re good to go. No worries. Maybe this was what was meant by turning the other cheek.
I wondered (aloud, since at this point they were embroiled in an energetic recital of their prayer accomplishments), what if God had sent THEM to be the source of help? These men are all able-bodied and not exactly impoverished. Maybe THEY could help, but now – apparently – they don’t have to, and they needn’t feel a moment’s remorse about it, because the Bible says it’s okay.
Just imagine what could be accomplished if each of these six men used the two hours that they devote to Bible Study each Saturday to help out in the community. They could deliver a meal to some elderly shut-ins. They could clean up a local park or riverbank. They could each donate a pint of blood. They could mentor some troubled teens. They could walk some dogs at the animal shelter.
This site has many excellent diaries decrying the heartlessness and hypocrisy of the Religious Right, the Compassionate Conservatives, the Tea Party, and the GOP establishment, and their collective willingness to turn their backs on those in need.
I don’t take issue with any religion. My issue is with those who hijack religion as a cloak of invulnerability to carry out some distinctly un-Christian mandates. I’ve wondered how these movements gain a foothold, and how so many people can abandon their “true” faith to support candidates and causes whose only aim is amassing personal wealth.
Now I know. It starts with breakfast.