Driving By The Accident

BY JUSTIN MCROBERTS

Everyone rubbernecks. Everyone. Rubbernecking is one of the great common denominators of all humanity; that and disdain for the New York Yankees. Recently I have been wondering, is it possible that rubbernecking is more than just the manifestation of some deranged fascination with death or the mindless activity of self-centered commuters? Maybe there is something more to it. Maybe there is something deeply “human”—in the best sense of the word—about the way we slow down and stare at tragedy.

Here is what I mean: When we hear stories of firemen running into burning buildings or private citizens trekking to Louisiana to help rebuild homes, our hearts are moved. We call these people “heroes”—and rightfully so. But perhaps in these moments when we catch a glimpse of heroism in our fellow men and women (or even in ourselves), we are not so much transcending our humanity, but fully embracing it. Perhaps our best moments are our most human moments and vice versa: our most human moments are our best moments. Perhaps the times we place ourselves in the face of danger or even death are inspiring for the very reason that we recognize “the best of who we are” in those moments; not some distant shadow of a kind of person we could never be.

I am suggesting that what is inhuman is to simply drive by without even slowing down. Similarly, what is inhuman is to hear stories of injustice or tragedy but remain unmoved, unmotivated and unchanged. What is inhuman is when we hear that 5000 young girls are trafficked in the sex-trade every day, yet we choose to believe they are someone else’s responsibility—someone else’s daughters. What is inhuman is when we learn that 30,000 people die daily (five million each year) due to preventable, hunger-related causes, but we tell ourselves that they are someone else’s children.

Perhaps what is most inhuman is to know of the deep brokenness that defines much of the world we live in, but to stand in judgment of God for not “doing something about it” when all along, we are the ones who have yet to move.

There is something provocatively human in the way we rubber-neck to see what tragedies have affected our fellow humans. And something gloriously human in the actions of those who give their own time, treasure, talent and voice to love, heal and advocate for those who have been abandoned by the inhumanity of the masses.