The Gray Area:

"The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of a moral crisis." - (Dante, 12th century Italian poet)

I love people who take my side in arguments because well, who doesn't? I respect people who choose to differ because they have the courage to not simply accept and the intellect to question. But there is one type of person that I cannot stand. I despise neutrality.

There are those who straddle the fence, neither here nor there. When a disagreement occurs they are unable to pick a side. Rather, they choose not to pick a side. They choose to remain neutral, peaceful, untouched and uninvolved. Neither black or white but a moral gray area.

On a surface level it seems quite an acceptable thing to do. After all no one wants to go looking for trouble and its downright rude to stick your nose in the affairs of others. But when your voice is required today, speak out here and now. Don't remain silent under the pretense of neutrality because the truth is your not being neutral, you just don't want to get involved. 

It's the kind of herd mentality that human beings have suffered from since generations. When a man is getting beaten up in public. a crowd gathers to watch. Sure the whole crowd could overwhelm the attacker. But they stay still, neutral, unfeeling, allowing the atrocity to take place. No one wants to be the first to take a stand, no one wants to get involved. They don't realize that neutrality doesn't exist, not really. Neutrality is just a fictional place in the head. When they chose to be quiet, they already picked a side. The side of the attacker. Silence is consent.

It's the same problem that's destroying the world as we know it now. When countries with power don't put an end to terrorism simply because they are not affected. Not my business, they say. But with great power comes great responsibility. And it is their responsibility to lend their power to those who do not possess their own.

So enough of being neutral. Pick a side.

" So because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth!" - Revelations 3:16

Disillusioned:

As a ministry grows and evolves it becomes inevitable for levels of hierarchies to form. These are essential when it comes to growing the movement and spreading the gospel. But positions and titles bring with it their own problems. Whenever titles are involved, politics gets dragged in.

Even a church ministry can’t avoid the problem with such positions and these power struggles became apparent while I was growing into the ministry. Safeguards were put in to stop such things from happening. The leader of a team was given the title coordinator. Just a person who coordinates with the team and nothing more. Emphasis was given on servant leadership, not the kind that dominates and enforces but takes up the mantle of responsibility with an attitude of servitude. It wasn't enough though; eventually people who worked longer in the ministry desired higher positions, frequent ego clashes resulted in arguments and ended up with some leaving the movement forever.

Watching leaders that I loved and respected turning into people who fought over petty things like titles and recognition was demotivating to the extreme. My short tenure having a position proved something vital. That I wasn't suited for power or a position of leadership. That it becomes extremely easy to grow comfortable in that ivory tower and order people around. That sometimes we cannot help but evoke our title to enforce a decision that others are not comfortable with. It’s hard for the ordinary man to resist the lure of power.

Ever since then I steered clear of positions, although I was offered several time and again. But it’s still saddening to see former lambs turning to wolves with just a little power. Saddening to see people forget the attitude of servant leadership and wield their titles like a sword. Painful to watch as some disregard why they are in the ministry in the first place.

Power corrupts.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Grateful:

Today a young woman came from a cleaning agency to tidy my house. Being unaccustomed to having help around the place mom went about making things easier, sharing the chores and speeding up the pace of work. After a while mom settled down and looked at the girl while she was cleaning and remarked to me sadly “If only circumstances allowed her to have an education she would be living comfortably like so many other women her age.”

It was the kind of remark that made me look at my mom with renewed respect.  Mom had always been a highly compassionate woman. The workmen who came home were always treated to platters of fruit and tea, the technicians were sent home after a long day’s work with bags of goodies, the repairmen with warm words and a comforting smile. My mother always stopped to chat with the watchman and the plumbers who hung around our building before coming back up home. Anytime a good dish was prepared, a bowl of it was sent down to the building security. She never stopped reminding us about how blessed we were and how easily our situations could have been reversed if God had not been so merciful to us.

Perhaps it was due to this that to us a person’s worth was never determined by their financial status or their job. We looked at everyone equally, treated all with dignity and respect because of the lessons that were ingrained in our minds, the ceaseless reminders that we were all the same. In school I spent long hours chatting with the maids and ayahs, bus conductors and drivers during break time. They told me about their struggles, about problems back home, about poverty, ailing parents and unschooled children. I would walk away from these conversations feeling shameful about the petty things I complained about on a daily basis, guilt at being unable to make their lives better and infinitely thankful for all the blessings I had in my life.

It strikes me now how much we take for granted, the fact that we have parents and a roof over our head. That the teachers and schools we complain about so often are a luxury that many weren't able to experience. That we could easily have been the waiter who served us fancy dishes at a restaurant, the man who scrubbed windows for a living, the construction worker who carries heavy loads several times a day or the fatigued ayah who kept the bathrooms spotless. That we have done nothing to merit the privileged lifestyle we lead and it was just providence that we ended up where we are right now.We are all the same. Just some luckier than most with nothing to brag about other than God’s mercy.

And of that I will boast.

 “Why,” said Sara, “we are just the same—I am only a little girl like you. It’s just an accident that I am not you, and you are not me!” – A Little Princess