The tears of the oppressed (2)

Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun: I saw the tears of the oppressed – and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors – and they have no comforter. And I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive. But better than both is the one who has never been born, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun. Ecclesiastes 4:1-3

But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him… Luke 10:33-34

Last time I encouraged us to focus on “the tears of the oppressed”, a big theme of the strange book of Ecclesiastes, perhaps especially of chapter 4. I pointed out that this book doesn’t necessarily give us clear answers to the questions it raises, and that therefore we need to survey the Bible as a whole to fill in the gaps, and especially to reflect on the suffering of Jesus.

Our big problem as we think about our troubled, hurting world is summed up in that nagging question: “Yes, it’s terrible. But what can I do?” Of course we would all like to put the world right, and to eliminate injustice and the suffering that comes of it. But that is simply not within our powers, and we can take some comfort from the fact that God recognises that and doesn’t expect it of us. But knowing that doesn’t make us feel much better. Yes, ultimately God is going to put all things right through the return of Jesus; but what difference does that make to the oppressed today? What can I do now?

I finished last time by confessing that I didn’t have anything very original or startling to say. But I’ll offer it anyway, in the hope that it might make just make an atom of difference to the way we view this question. I have three very obvious verbs to suggest: Notice; pray; act.

1.   Notice.

The writer says “I looked and saw… and saw…”, and then offers his reflections. We might respond, “Well, of course he looked and saw, why bother to state that!” To which the answer is: Because it’s easy to not notice, in effect to turn a blind eye, like the priest and the Levite in Jesus’s wonderful story of the Good Samaritan. The victim of the attack would presumably have died if the Samaritan had, like those two religious dignitaries, also “passed by on the other side”. But he didn’t: he “came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him…” (Luke 10:30-37). So simple; yet so easy to not do.

My legs have become quite feeble in recent years (whether from pure old age or some sort of long covid, or a combination of the two, I don’t know), but walking on holiday last year with my wife I felt myself in real danger of stumbling down a slope, whereupon a woman with our group  approached and asked if we needed help. As it happened I was all right, but I was impressed by her kindness, and asked if she was part of the travel company team. To which she replied: “No, just somebody who notices things…” A busybody? I don’t think so (nor should I even have thought such a thing).

It's part of our responsibility as Christians to notice what’s going on around us, and to respond appropriately. I feel the weight of this particularly every time I’m in our town centre and see the rough-sleepers, their lives wrecked by addictions, foolish and/or sinful life-choices or sheer bad luck, humanly speaking. I see them all right; but do I really notice them? And if I do, is it for more than a momentary glance?

Many Christians, I fear, genuinely care for such people in a hypothetical kind of way, but that’s as far as it goes. We watch the news on television or read it in some newspaper or online medium, and that’s good; but where does it lead? Are we any better than the priest and the Levite? We don’t know what the writer of Ecclesiastes did in consequence of his “looking and seeing”, but at least he noticed; the rest is between him and God. He wasn’t totally focussed on his own concerns. Are we?

2.   Pray

You may be surprised that I’ve put this second rather than first; surely prayer is always our priority! Well, yes and no. Certainly, if we are not people of prayer we are nothing, and to pray without detailed knowledge of the need is better than not to pray at all. But how much better to pray having noticed than to pray in a purely mechanical kind of way.

So the message is… pray in a purposeful and disciplined kind of way, whether from a regularly refreshed list, or in company with another person or group, or from some form of publication sent out by a charity, missionary society or whatever.

Prayer from the heart is never wasted, even when our feelings are not necessarily engaged. We can’t be always emotionally involved, and it’s not healthy (or honest, come to that) to try and artificially work up our emotions. Humble obedience is the key: God knows us through and through, and he lovingly receives what we bring. I heard a preacher say once, talking about the struggle that prayer can be, “All I know is that when I pray for some situation in China, something happens in China!” (He was a Welshman, and got quite excited.) I’ve never forgotten those words.

3.   Act

Every hour of every day brings opportunities to respond in some form or other to the tears of the oppressed – if only we have eyes to see. A word of greeting to a neighbour; a donation, large or small, to help alleviate the suffering of the victims of a crisis; a phone call or other form of greeting to someone in need; involvement in a political protest... the list could be, indeed is, endless. The New Testament tells us to be good, responsible citizens – Romans 13:1-7 is just one passage reflecting that truth – and praying for our troubled world is a most basic part of that.

Given the limitless opportunities available to us to respond to the tears of the oppressed, perhaps it’s best to leave these thoughts there. May God help each of us to see what our particular responses should be. And that can only happen if, like the Old Treatment writer, we look and see…

Father, please give me eyes to notice, a heart to pray, and the love to act in response to the tears of the oppressed. Amen.