The Untouchables

Article - The Untouchables

By Adam L Schneider

            In a far corner of the world, you stand on a crowded street, barely a street in fact, and more a smear of dirt buried beneath the jostling throngs of human bodies heading in every direction.  So many people!  More than a billion people live in India, and they all seem to be on this street with you.  As you scan the faces, you see that there are many different shades of skin color.  India is home to 25 separate provinces, each with it’s own language.  Your eyes are drawn to a very dark skinned man, hauling a crude wheelbarrow filled with refuse.  The crowd seems to part around him, as if he were somehow surrounded by an invisible forcefield.  Another dark skinned man is seen in a doorway, holding a piece of leather.  Your eyes meet quickly, and he looks away.  His wife is a shy silhouette behind him, not daring to even appear in public.  As you continue, you see many more people performing menial tasks, dirty chores, and even cleaning up human waste.  They all seem to have very dark skin, and no one will go near them.  It’s as if they were…untouchable. 

Many of these “untouchables”, or Dalit (as they are known in India) end up as labourers, leatherworkers, butchers, garbage collectors, and historically, they were segregated from the regular population to the point that no one would dare even brush against them by accident.

            Today, the government in India has enacted many laws to protect these people, and the caste system is fading into the past.  Dalits today hold 17% of India’s jobs, and they’ve been elected to political office on every level, repeatedly.  Great job India!  Now, pack up your bags, and we’ll fly back to North America.  It just so happens to be Sunday, and, what a coincidence, there is a big, beautiful church right next door to the airport!  You’re just in time for the morning service, and you’re even dressed for the occasion, with your buttoned up collar shirt, and pressed slacks.  Some one even polished your wingtip shoes while you were on the airplane!  Boy, that Westjet sure thinks of everything.

            As the service ends, you still feel disoriented from the plane ride, almost as though you were still back on that narrow crowded street in rural India, trying to press your way through the crushing mass of people.  You briefly remember the Dalits you saw, and you say a thankful prayer that there is no “caste” system in your hometown.  As the congregation stands to leave, most are joking and laughing, talking about plans, or telling their friends about the past week.  Not everyone gets up, though.  A few people are still sitting, not talking, or laughing, or doing anything at all.  Most of these people will wait for everyone else to leave, then slip out the door, nearly invisible.  The only reason you noticed them, is that the look on their face seems strangely familiar…like you’ve seen people like that somewhere else. 

            Every church has them.  The “untouchables”.  They might be socially awkward, shy, angry, or they might be strange looking, or even downright ugly.  Parents whisper to their children, “Don’t go near Mr Laughstooloud, he might be dangerous!”, and even the ushers seem to be uncomfortable greeting them.  Once in a while, a brave soul will make a point to say, “Hey, how’re ya doin!” in a syrupy voice, shake their hand, utter some banal phrase like, “Boy it’s cold out there today, huh?”, and then make a run for it.  That’s fine for starters, but then what?  This person didn’t come to shake random people’s hands and wax on about the weather, they came because they NEEDED SOMETHING, and the Body of Jesus Christ, the Believers, the Church, seemed to be a place to get it! 

            A few minutes ago, I got a text from a friend of mine who is the very definition of “untouchable”.  It’s his birthday today, and I’m the only one who remembered.  His texts are childish, and riddled with spelling errors, but he has a brain injury, so that’s no surprise.  I’m often awakened by a text, or rarely, a phone call at 2 or 3 in the morning, where he tells me how sick he is of life, and how he wants to “let go”.  If you saw this guy at church, you would never know he was depressed, he hides it beneath awkward humour, lame jokes, and constant laughter.  Most people roll their eyes, and just walk away, if they don’t simply avoid or ignore him. 

            I decided long ago, that this man was my friend no matter what.  No matter how many times he woke me up with late night text messages, or if I could see food on his teeth, or dead skin in his beard when he talks, I’ve decided that he’s my friend, and deserves my attention.  When I’m at church, I make a point to have a conversation with him, short, but personal.  I text him back when he sends a message (not always right away).  I remember details about his life, the girl he likes, the things he does for fun, and when he says, “I love you bro!”, I say it right back, because that’s what friends do, they share the love that Jesus showed to us!

            I once thought of my friend as “my little project”, but I’ve grown beyond that.  Now, he’s just my friend.  I know that Jesus sent him my way, and that’s fine with me!  I asked for it, after all.  I prayed to God, “Oh Lord, let me serve you!”, and I put my hands down, turned around, and there was my ministry, right in front of me.  Did you think that God was going to send you to Africa?  Thailand?  Mexico?  Or, are you willing to find that one person, the “untouchable”, and become a missionary without leaving your chair?

            Here’s what you need to do:  Stop pretending that you’re too awesome to talk to these people, sit your hiney down in the chair next to them, and introduce yourself.  When they talk, listen and ask questions.  If someone you know stops by and interrupts, tell them you’re busy!  Your new friend needs your attention, and you’re going to give it, or you've failed the first mission God gave ever gave you, you know the one that goes “Love your Neighbour”?  You don’t need to give them your phone number and a house key, but next week, when you see them again, greet them by name, and do the same thing you did before.  You can only do what you can, but do something!

            Maybe it will never happen, but if everyone in church made a point to make friends with a stranger, to get to know newcomers, or to make friends with that guy whose beard looks like it might actually contain a bee’s nest, there would be no untouchables in church, and there would be far less pride and arrogance in His Body.