Yesterday, I told you of several appalling cases in which hurting—even dying—people cried out for help only to be blatantly ignored by passersby, both Christians and non-Christians. What’s happening? Why the passivity? How can we explain the gross lack of involvement? John Darley and Bibb Latane wrote an insightful article in Psychology Today a number of years ago, titled “When Will People Help in a Crisis?”
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Putting Down Pride
For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. (1 John 2:16) Now, our Father, in the simple, plain terms of sinners, we thank You for using for your glory those of us who are given to ugly pride and controlling dominance.
Read MoreResentment
Leo Held was a paragon of respectability. He was a middle-aged, hard-working lab technician who had worked at the same Pennsylvania paper mill for nineteen years. Having been a Boy Scout leader, an affectionate father, a member of the local fire brigade, and a regular church-goer, he was admired as a model in his community. Until . . .
Read MoreThe Final Priority
Somebody copied the following paraphrase from a well-worn carbon in the billfold of a thirty-year veteran missionary. With her husband, she was on her way to another tour of duty at Khartoum, Sudan. No one seems to know who authored it, but whoever it was captured the essence of the greatest essay on love ever written.
Read MoreMan’s Quest
Look across your office desk tomorrow and chances are you’ll be observing a living example of someone still searching, still running to find inner satisfaction. Step out in front of your apartment or home tomorrow morning and look both ways . . . listen to the roar of automobiles . . . study the dwellings surrounding you. Those sights and sounds represent people who have, like Little Bo-Peep’s sheep, “lost their way,” and, tragedy upon tragedy—they don’t know where to find it.
Read MoreWatch Out for Fakes
A friend of mine ate dog food one evening. No, he wasn’t at a fraternity initiation or a hobo party . . . he was actually at an elegant student reception in a physician’s home near Miami. The dog food was served on delicate little crackers with a wedge of imported cheese, bacon chips, an olive, and a sliver of pimiento on top. That’s right, friends and neighbors, it was hors d’oeuvres a la Alpo.
Read MoreSitting in the Light
“You do not have to sit outside in the dark. If, however, you want to look at the stars, you will find that darkness is required. The stars neither require it nor demand it” (Annie Dillard). A lot of things in life are like that, aren’t they?
Read MoreThe Blame Game
Are you old enough to remember comedian Flip Wilson’s old line, “The devil made me do it”? Here was this character who had obviously done something bad. But instead of taking the blame, he pointed an accusing finger at “the devil.” Why did we laugh? We weren’t just laughing at his hilarious routines; we were laughing at ourselves—at one of our favorite indoor games: The Blame Game. And since he is altogether wicked and invisible and unable to challenge our accusation in audible tones, there’s no better scapegoat than old Lucifer himself.
Read MoreAn Advocate
The Book of Job drips with mystery. The sobs of the man and the silence of his God form a strange combination. From the start, there are surprises and anomalies. Job is portrayed for us as “blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil” (1:1) . . . and yet the bottom drops out of his world. He loses everything except his life and his wife. How strange of God to permit one of His own to become the victim of a devil-inspired plot to reduce him to putty.
Read MoreMercy Is More Than Words
Shocking stories make headlines today with remarkable regularity. A young woman was brutally attacked as she returned to her apartment late one night. She screamed and shrieked as she fought for her life . . . yelling until she was hoarse . . . for thirty minutes . . . as she was beaten and abused. As I heard the story, thirty-eight people watched the half-hour episode in rapt fascination from their windows. Not one so much as walked over to the telephone and called the police. She died that night as thirty-eight witnesses stared in silence.
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