There is no they, only us.
I got a reminder of this today, an uncomfortable reminder that I probably needed to hear.
There is no “they.”
This is what I told the guy at the hardware store. More specifically, I told him, “YOU ARE True Value.”
I bought a hose storage unit at my local hardware store about a month ago. It worked well, for about two weeks. Then it started leaking.
Today was the day. I walked the half block, defective implement in hand, to ask for an exchange.
One guy said no, not before we try to fix it. He tried. It’s in worse condition now.
The other guy told me to send it back to the company, that they would replace it. “But I bought it here. How about we exchange it, and you send it back?”
“True Value won’t do that.”
“You’re True Value.”
There is no mystical “them” who is responsible. When you have a True Value store, you are True Value.
When you are part of a church, especially in leadership (but not only then), there is no “they” who will or will not do something.
In those moments when what needs to be done butts up against the policy, or when what they’ve done embarrasses us, deferring to “them” is not going to convince the person in front of you that you are not part of that “them.” That person will only be convinced that you are different when you act, when you do what is right.
I regularly need reminding of this. There is no “them” who is the church, or my employer, or my family, someone else to blame in that organization I’m a part of when I’m as frustrated as the outsider.
But probably the place where I need the reminder most is in dealing with Christians en mass. There is no “they” who are doing those things that drive me bat-poop crazy, only an “us.”
I can’t control “us,” but I can own us. I can take responsibility for how we are engaging, offending, alienating the person in front of me. I can take responsibility for apologizing for our brokenness and striving to rectify messed up situations.
Badmouthing “them,” or blaming “them” rings hollow when we are they. The person standing in front of us, or reading our blog post or our article or our book or our Facebook status knows that we are they, even though we’d like to distance ourselves and conveniently forget.
I need to realize it, too.