Samaritan or Silent Majority
I suspect that, like me, many readers of a certain age were left with a smile as well as a challenge after reading Richard’s ‘tube train’ Pause for Thought. I’m guessing that the unlawful killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis on 25 May will not have passed by unnoticed. You may also be aware that the Territorial Leaders Gillian and Anthony Cotterill have recently issued a public statement which included the following paragraph…
We are appalled by the research proving that people from black, Asian and other minority ethnic (BAME) groups in the UK have suffered disproportionately from the coronavirus pandemic. We recognise this is a critical time and today we want to recommit to our journey of togetherness with people from BAME communities and respond with positive action. In these days following Pentecost, and the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit to the world, we increasingly understand our responsibility, in the words of Jesus himself, not only ‘to proclaim good news to the poor’ but also ‘to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour’ (Luke 4 v18-19, NIV). The work of ‘recovery of sight for the blind’ and setting ‘the oppressed free’ is a priority in the fight against racism. Consequently, The Salvation Army in the United Kingdom and Ireland will intentionally seek ways to confront and fight racism wherever it is found.
The coincidence of these three events reminded me of an incident some years ago on my way home from London to Bedford. So, there I was wrestling on the floor in the carriage of a train with a slightly drunk young man in his late twenties. During the brawl, the 3 other people in the carriage did nothing.
I had boarded the train at Kings Cross as usual and sat in my favourite rear seat in the small 12-seater carriage. 10 minutes or so into the journey a young man, drinking a can of beer and appearing slightly drunk, got into the carriage and sat at the table in front of me, but facing the same direction as me. Apart from us, there were 3 other people in the carriage.
Almost as soon as the train pulled out of the station he began to turn around and stare and sneer at me. He did this every two or three minutes for about 10 minutes. He then began to make loud remarks about ‘niggers’ and ‘coons’ and ‘black this and that’. After each barrage of abuse, he would turn to me and say “who do you think you’re looking at”. Though, he wasn’t quite so polite, this is a shortened and somewhat edited version of his actual words.
I said nothing, but I was finding it more and more difficult to keep up even the merest pretence of working through the papers spread out on the table in front of me. I could feel the adrenalin racing. This was pretty remarkable in itself as my adrenalin hadn’t had much racing practice for years. I was clearly in the grip of the fight or flight syndrome. Flight however, was not a viable option. I was on a moving train and in any event my abuser was between me and the door.
After one particularly loud and aggressive mouthful of racial abuse, he jumped out of his seat and bounded towards me. Not wanting to be caught trapped in my seat, I got up before he reached me. He threw a punch, which fortunately I managed to dodge. I then attempted to smother the blows that followed. The whole thing then became a bit of a blur. I must confess at this point that not once did the thought of ‘turning the other cheek’ enter my head. I just remember wrestling with him on the floor. After what seemed like an age, but which was in all probability only a couple of minutes, he struggled to his feet and ran from the train which had now stopped, just as the doors were closing. I’ve always secretly wanted to believe that he ran off because I was proving too tough to handle, however, I suspect that he just didn’t want to miss his stop.
During the fracas, the other three people did nothing apart from moving their feet and their brief cases so that they wouldn’t be damaged by the fighting. The one woman in the carriage did ask us, in a very quiet voice, to ‘please stop fighting’, but the men were mute. After my assailant left the train the four of us sat in silence for the remaining 15 minutes of the journey to Bedford. There was no enquiry as to my health and no show of sympathy regarding the verbal and physical abuse I had been subjected to. In fact, there was very little evidence that anything untoward had taken place at all; save for my torn coat and my extremely loud and somewhat accelerated heartbeat.
My story is not unique. Sadly, it is not even particularly extreme, it is however an example of the abuse and negative treatment that visible minorities in Britain can find ourselves subjected to every single day. Most of the abuse does not get physical, but like my example, almost all of it takes place in front of other people. People who do and say nothing, people who ‘pass by on the other side.’
Luke 10 v 31 – 37
A man was going down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.. Jesus then asked, “ Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbour to the man who fell among the robbers?" He said, "The one who showed mercy on him." And Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise.
We are appalled by the research proving that people from black, Asian and other minority ethnic (BAME) groups in the UK have suffered disproportionately from the coronavirus pandemic. We recognise this is a critical time and today we want to recommit to our journey of togetherness with people from BAME communities and respond with positive action. In these days following Pentecost, and the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit to the world, we increasingly understand our responsibility, in the words of Jesus himself, not only ‘to proclaim good news to the poor’ but also ‘to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour’ (Luke 4 v18-19, NIV). The work of ‘recovery of sight for the blind’ and setting ‘the oppressed free’ is a priority in the fight against racism. Consequently, The Salvation Army in the United Kingdom and Ireland will intentionally seek ways to confront and fight racism wherever it is found.
The coincidence of these three events reminded me of an incident some years ago on my way home from London to Bedford. So, there I was wrestling on the floor in the carriage of a train with a slightly drunk young man in his late twenties. During the brawl, the 3 other people in the carriage did nothing.
I had boarded the train at Kings Cross as usual and sat in my favourite rear seat in the small 12-seater carriage. 10 minutes or so into the journey a young man, drinking a can of beer and appearing slightly drunk, got into the carriage and sat at the table in front of me, but facing the same direction as me. Apart from us, there were 3 other people in the carriage.
Almost as soon as the train pulled out of the station he began to turn around and stare and sneer at me. He did this every two or three minutes for about 10 minutes. He then began to make loud remarks about ‘niggers’ and ‘coons’ and ‘black this and that’. After each barrage of abuse, he would turn to me and say “who do you think you’re looking at”. Though, he wasn’t quite so polite, this is a shortened and somewhat edited version of his actual words.
I said nothing, but I was finding it more and more difficult to keep up even the merest pretence of working through the papers spread out on the table in front of me. I could feel the adrenalin racing. This was pretty remarkable in itself as my adrenalin hadn’t had much racing practice for years. I was clearly in the grip of the fight or flight syndrome. Flight however, was not a viable option. I was on a moving train and in any event my abuser was between me and the door.
After one particularly loud and aggressive mouthful of racial abuse, he jumped out of his seat and bounded towards me. Not wanting to be caught trapped in my seat, I got up before he reached me. He threw a punch, which fortunately I managed to dodge. I then attempted to smother the blows that followed. The whole thing then became a bit of a blur. I must confess at this point that not once did the thought of ‘turning the other cheek’ enter my head. I just remember wrestling with him on the floor. After what seemed like an age, but which was in all probability only a couple of minutes, he struggled to his feet and ran from the train which had now stopped, just as the doors were closing. I’ve always secretly wanted to believe that he ran off because I was proving too tough to handle, however, I suspect that he just didn’t want to miss his stop.
During the fracas, the other three people did nothing apart from moving their feet and their brief cases so that they wouldn’t be damaged by the fighting. The one woman in the carriage did ask us, in a very quiet voice, to ‘please stop fighting’, but the men were mute. After my assailant left the train the four of us sat in silence for the remaining 15 minutes of the journey to Bedford. There was no enquiry as to my health and no show of sympathy regarding the verbal and physical abuse I had been subjected to. In fact, there was very little evidence that anything untoward had taken place at all; save for my torn coat and my extremely loud and somewhat accelerated heartbeat.
My story is not unique. Sadly, it is not even particularly extreme, it is however an example of the abuse and negative treatment that visible minorities in Britain can find ourselves subjected to every single day. Most of the abuse does not get physical, but like my example, almost all of it takes place in front of other people. People who do and say nothing, people who ‘pass by on the other side.’
Luke 10 v 31 – 37
A man was going down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.. Jesus then asked, “ Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbour to the man who fell among the robbers?" He said, "The one who showed mercy on him." And Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise.
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Click on the image to hear the song 'Let My People Go' written and performed by Matt Spencer. |
Note: This series of 'Pause for Thought' started on Monday 4th May. To find these previous thoughts go to the Archive section of the website listed under the 'more.....' tab at the top of the page. On the 'Daily Pause for Thought' section of the website we will only keep 2 weeks of contributions before putting them into the Archive.
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