Let them see your humanity

I’m a scared runner.

When I jog, part of my response to a difficult past is to be hypervigilant when I run alone, always mapping escape routes and making sure no one is following me. I hate to even type that, as it’s embarrassing to be internally panicked. But it’s the truth.

So when I pass another male runner or walker or construction or road worker, I make it a point to look them in the eyes and say hello. I’m sure none of them want to attack me, but it’s my way of helping them see my humanity, a little preventative measure to promote safety.

Recently I sent a picture to someone. It was of a defect I have on one of my fingers, asking for advice. In a way, I was hoping that my request would help them see my humanity, my vulnerability. In this instance, sadly, it did not work. And therein lies a pain I think many of us experience.

What happens when someone won’t see your humanity? When you try to show them your weakness, and they either ignore you or continue down a path of attack?

Patrick and I are watching a difficult series on Britbox Premiere right now entitled Rise of the Nazis. I’ve known a bit about the history of pre World War Two Germany, but this dives much, much deeper. I wondered had anyone stood up? Did anyone sound the alarm?

Enter Hans Litten, a lawyer who opposed Hitler’s policies before he came to power, even putting him on the witness stand. He paid dearly for it, with his life. And Joseph Hartinger, another lawyer who later investigated several Dachau murders (before other atrocities were discovered). Though his investigative work was ignored, later those papers became instrumental in parts of the Nuremburg trials. He immediately understood that, in that camp, the commandant and officers were actively dehumanizing the prisoners.

That’s how a society turns. When we begin dehumanizing each other.

When we believe that we are somehow better than that person, or when other groups of people no longer deserve to be treated humanely.

We see this in play today, where entire countries are vilified, or groups are solely blamed for a country’s problems.

Here’s where theology is important. Every human being is weighted with glory. We carry around in us the imago dei, the image of God. Therefore, to arbitrarily villainize another is to deny their belovedness.

We all know what it’s like to be devalued. That broken feeling should inform the way we choose to treat others. It should become a cautionary tale to us. If it hurt us so much, then why would we want another person to feel the same way?

So while we strive to be kindhearted to a world used to judgment and brutality, we also strive to help others see us as human too—like I did while I run, or sent a picture to someone.

Will others see us kindly? Not always. And when that happens to me, I run to the One who created me, remembering that I bear the weight of his beautiful glory, that he deeply understands what it’s like to be misunderstood and even maligned. He knows what it means to be betrayed or harmed. He knows exactly what it’s like to be dehumanized, naked, on a cross.

The simple lesson is this: don’t dehumanize. And if/when someone dehumanizes you, try to help them see your humanity. If they refuse, seek refuge in the One who understands.