My brother-in-law shared a story recently about a parenting tactic he used with his girls. When his four girls were younger, they’d sometimes act up. When they started doing things that they weren’t supposed to be doing, he’d tell them that he was going to call “the people”. Then he’d pick up the phone and pretend that he was dialing.
When “the people” answered, he would explain the situation and ask for them to come and take care of the problem. On occasions, the timing of these “calls” would coincide with sirens in their neighborhood. Over time, the girls learned to fear the response of “the people”. Just hinting at calling them would improve their behavior.
Now, I’m not necessarily endorsing my brother-in-law’s parenting tactic, but it illustrates how much we fear “the people”. We don’t trust them. We assume they are evil. If we give them time, they’ll certainly prove they’re out to get us. At the very least, they won’t do things the way we like to do things.
Think about it. We don’t trust the people that we don’t know. We may work in the same organization, but, if we don’t know them, we assume they have a different agenda. Sometimes “the people” are in management. Sometimes “the people” work on a different team or in a different place. Sometimes “the people” are new to our organization. Because they come from a different background, we assume they don’t do things the way we do things. “The people” can’t be trusted.
What happens when we assume the worst of people?
There’s this story in the book of Joshua about two groups of people who were divided by a river. On one side of the river were the men of Reuben, Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh. On the other side of the river was the community of Israel. One day, the men of the two-and-a-half tribes built an altar near the river. “The people” of Israel didn’t like that, so they prepared to go to war against “the people” on the other side of the river. Before they went to war, though, Israel sent a delegation to confront the evil people who built the altar.
The people of Israel, of course, assumed the men on the other side of the river had turned their backs on God. They thought the altar was an act of rebellion. And, when you dig deeper into the story, you find the people of Israel were most concerned that this act of rebellion would eventually turn God’s anger on Israel.
As it turns out, the men of Reuben, Gad and Manasseh built the altar for completely different reasons:
“We decided to build the altar, not for burnt offerings or sacrifices, but as a memorial. It will remind our descendants and your descendants that we, too, have the right to worship the Lord at his sanctuary with our burnt offerings, sacrifices, and peace offerings. Then your descendants will not be able to say to ours, ‘You have no claim to the Lord.’” (Joshua 22:26-27, NLT)
When Israel got to know the men on the other side of the river, they learned that their actions, though unconventional, were motivated by the same heart for worshiping God. Israel was ready to go to war with “the people” who wanted to worship the Lord too.
How should we treat people from a different tribe?
Many times, the only reason we distrust someone is because they aren’t like us. They may be on a different team. They may be in a different role. They may be from a different political party or have a different skin color. They may be affiliated with a different denomination or have a different theological perspective. Because they’re not a part of “our tribe”, we assume they don’t share our heart for God. When we become self-righteous, we treat others with contempt. That’s sin and when it festers, it brings harm to ourselves and to the church. (See Luke 18:9-14.)
For the church to carry out God’s mission, we have to fight for unity. For us to experience unity, we have to begin with a foundation of trust.
Let’s assume “the people” love God too.
