Step in

I’m in a season of questions these days.

I’ve been looking at the way I live, the things I’ve always believed, the culture I’m a part of and I’m starting to ask, “Is this the way it should be? Or is this just the way it’s always been? It’s this God’s way? Or is this man’s way?”

And as you can imagine, this does not help me sleep at night.

But as time passes, I am ever aware of the ticking clock counting down the days I have left with my kids in the house. And I’m constantly thinking about what they need to know, what I need to tell them and things they need to see before they ride off into the sunset and begin their own lives.

This also does not help me sleep at night. (Warning: Being intentional comes at a cost.)

One of the biggest things I’m questioning these days is this idea of ‘minding your own business.’

Jesus was all up in everybody’s grill all the time when He was here. He read their thoughts and called them on it. He knew their problems before they ever told Him. And He had no problem inserting Himself to any situation that needed attention.

I realize that’s Jesus, He’s perfect and He couldn’t mess it up. So should that example apply to us?

I never really knew that ‘church discipline’ was a thing until I moved to Orlando. I had previously worked at two churches and never heard anything about it.

But a few years after I moved here, there was a big stink about a church in town excommunicating a member for leaving her husband for unbiblical reasons, refusing counseling and generally not submitting to the authority of the church. And frankly, I was repulsed.

Who the heck to they think they are? Excommunicating? Really? Who even does that anymore? Is that supposed to bring anyone closer to Christ? That woman owes them no explanation. If she’s sinning by leaving her husband, that’s between her and God. The three of them are the only ones who know the whole story. The church just needs to mind their own business.

The idea continued to follow me when Brad and I got into the show on Showtime, Ray Donovan. (Not saying I recommend it. It’s pretty rough. But the story is so good and the characters are so complex, I just can’t help myself.)

Ray has a terribly conflicted relationship with the church. (And for VERY good reason. I won’t spoil it for you.) A priest comes across his story and seeks him out to offer healing and restoration. Ray rejects it. Violently, I might add. The priest excommunicates him and Ray blows it off.

Later the priest returns (at his own risk) and gives Ray a peace offering. Then he said a line that resonated with me deep in my soul as I wrestled with what was happening.

Excommunication is not a punishment. It’s an invitation. To change.

Huh. Interesting. I thought it was a rejection like “You can’t come to our church anymore because we don’t like you and we think we’re better than you are.” I thought it was an abuse of power. (And of course, it certainly can be. We’ve seen enough preachers and Christians fall on their faces to know we’re all just flawed human beings. Some mean well and some don’t.)

I never thought of it as much-needed accountability.

Suddenly, God reminded me of a time in my life when I was struggling alone and desperately needed my church to step in. All of the staff knew what was happening and yet everyone just minded their own business. And I paid a high price for it.

Years later one of the pastors reached out to me via email to apologize. “Your church failed you,” he told me. I thanked him for the sentiment, assured him that my broken life was not his fault but agreed that I could desperately have benefitted from some backup.

Accountability, the right people getting all up in my business. I needed it. I still need it.

And the truth is, we all need it.

Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Each one should test his own actions. The he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to someone else, for each one should carry his own load. Galations 6:1-5

‘Carry one another’s burdens’ is music to my codependent ears, and God knows I have to watch myself or I will end up weighed down by the struggles of others to an unhealthy extent.

But just a few lines later, it says ‘each one should carry his own load.’ A contradiction? Sounds like it, but nope.

The first refers to helping each other, speaking truth into each other’s lives, holding each other accountable, walking with each other through pain. The second is a reminder that regardless of the assistance of others, each man is responsible to God for his actions.

(See? Healthy boundaries right there in the Bible.)

Right this minute, I could name probably four or five marriages I know of that are just hanging by a thread. People confide in me and then swear me to secrecy. And I wrestle with that knowledge, wondering if I should step in and what that would look like.

There’s a show on TV called What Would You Do where hidden cameras record the actions of bystanders when confronted with an unjust or unsafe situation put on by actors in a public place. The brave always step in and say something. But many more just look away and, you guessed it, mind their own business.

That show always makes me ask myself, What WOULD I do? And most of the time, if I’m honest with myself, in many cases I’d be one of those ‘polite’ people who is either too intimidated or too busy or too lazy to get involved.

I’m a big Teddy Roosevelt fan. My very favorite quote of his is,

In any situation, the best thing you can do is the right thing; the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing; the worst thing you can do is nothing.

The conclusion I’m coming to is that more often than not, we fail each other when we mind our own business.

What is the church for? What is community for? What are friends for? Just to sit around and talk about happy things and congratulate each other on our wins? What kind of friendship is it if you don’t trust each other to speak the hard truth when necessary? Are you really being polite by watching your friend’s life go down in flames? Or are you just being selfish, afraid of confrontation?

About a year or so ago, God confronted me with this in one of my close friendships:

You are not being a real friend to her.

What are You talking about? Of course I am. I don’t agree with everything she’s doing, but I’m not rejecting her. I’m staying in her life, letting her know I still love her. What else can I do?

Tell her the truth.

She KNOWS the truth, Lord. She’s not living by it, but she knows it. I know she does.

If you really loved her, you would risk your friendship for her ultimate benefit. If you really love her, tell her the truth.

(Wave of nausea.) But Lord, we’ve been friends since high school. What if she gets mad and walks away from me? What if she thinks I’m judging her and cuts me out of her life?

That is her choice, My child. But I know you truly love her and care for her and want the best for her. You must speak the truth into her life, no matter the cost. Your life is scarred from the lack of intervention from close friends. You know what can happen if you mind your own business. And if her life crashes and burns, you will always regret not telling her the truth.

Within days, I sat on the couch with my friend and had one of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had. I told her the truth, drenched in love and tears, repeatedly telling her that she would always be my friend no matter what. And as she drove away (also in tears) that night, I wondered if I had just ended our friendship.

I hadn’t. Our friendship remains and her life is unchanged. But I loved her enough to tell her the truth, sans judgment. And she will always know that.

I have come to the conclusion that I often use ‘minding my own business’ as a cop out and have cautiously begun to step into the role of truth speaker. I don’t do it as often as I should and I get it wrong a lot. (And I still think I should tattoo #imeanwell on my forehead.)

As Christians, I don’t think we are called to mind are own business. I think we are called to community and deep friendship, in the good and the bad. To be sure, creating a foundation of love and trust is critical before hard truths are spoken. But sometimes, we are not afforded that luxury. Sometimes we are faced with a situation that requires immediate action.

Edmund Burke says,

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

Marriages are at stake.
Friendships are at stake.
Families are at stake.
LIVES are at stake.

In the days we live in, we don’t have time to be polite and mind our own business anymore, whether it’s personally, publicly or globally. We must prepare our hearts in advance with pure motives, open our eyes to injustice and brokenness around us.

And step in.