The noisy cafeteria went instantly silent. I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest as I locked eyes with the ringleader of the three bullies who, two seconds ago, had been laughing. I was enraged. I was also frightened as I my mind raced through multiple scenarios of what could happen next – most of those scenarios involved me getting hurt.
But I had taken my stand and I knew I could not back down. I could feel the attention of every eye in the cafeteria as I stood between the three offenders and the nearby table where their victim sat.
Tears streamed down her teenage face and her hair was littered with pieces of the lunch the offending boys had been throwing at her while they laughed. I had seen it happen. She cried as she yelled at them to stop. They laughed some more. Lots of people watched them throwing food at her. No one did anything. They were big, muscular and had a particular reputation. She was a girl with special needs, recently mainstreamed into our inner-city school. This was wrong. I didn’t think of what I was going to do before I got out of my chair, I simply knew I had to do something to stop them.
I don’t remember the exact words I said to the ringleader, but he stared unblinkingly back at me. Offender number three stood to square up to me. Offender number two looked for direction from offender number one, who silently, slowly shook his head. Number three quickly sat down with a tirade of words he probably didn’t understand.
It was over. Indistinct chatter refilled the cafeteria and a few of my friends took the crying girl to help her clean up.
The lessons I learned that day were foundational to my formation. Sometimes doing the right thing involves taking a risk. I often think of this episode when I’m confronted with decisions of right and wrong, standing up against injustice or protecting the vulnerable even if there is a threat to my personal safety.
When I read the story of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) I frequently think back on my cafeteria experience.
Jesus used a story about a man who was attacked, beaten, robbed and left injured on a roadside to illustrate how he expects us to behave toward our neighbour. In the story, Jesus included individuals who would have been expected to help but did not stop to help the injured man.
Familiarity with the story can, if we’re not careful, bring us to swift judgment about the two representatives of religion who demonstrated a lack of care for the injured man. Likely the men feared for their own safety. Perhaps they considered this a trap, the injuries were fake, and the actor’s co-conspirators were ready to pounce on them. Or, possibly, they were on their way home from religious duties and wanted to see their family. If they touched an unclean person, they would then need to isolate themselves according to laws of purification and this would delay them being able to see their family. Regardless of the reasonable-ness of their motives for inaction, Jesus highlights their choices as falling short of his values and expectations.
I’ve often heard this story used to explain a model, or standard, of how love is exemplified. This is understandable because the conversation began with a reference to the commandments about loving God and loving our neighbour (Lk 10:27). But at the end of the parable, Jesus did not ask the enquirer, “Which of the three showed love to the injured man?”. Rather, his question was, “Which of the three proved to be a neighbour?” (Lk 10:36).
At its simplest, the parable of the Good Samaritan illustrates the expectation that being a good neighbour is challenging, inconvenient, even risky. This raises an uncomfortable question for me…. if this story illustrates neighbourly behaviour, then what does real love look like?!
Reflecting on my cafeteria confrontation, at no point in those moments did I consider the philosophical, theological or sociological nuances between being a good neighbour or demonstrating loving behaviour. I simply knew I needed to do something to protect the vulnerable girl and stop the bullying and injustice.
In the journey of life since that day I’ve had numerous opportunities to make similar decisions. I frequently pray that the record of my actions will outweigh that of my inaction. Through it all my desire is that my love for the Lord will become so encompassing that it permeates my interactions with others to the point there is no distinction between love for my neighbour and general neighbourly behaviour.
Sean Copeland, June 2023