Question: What do you do if you believe someone is knowingly, habitually breaking the law?
I had this conversation with a friend recently. Hadn't given it much thought until then, but we do find ourselves sometimes privy to information that we wish we didn't have. It comes of being trusted. People tell you things. Things they probably wish they didn't know either.
So, every now and then, I see a person driving around town. Someone I know superficially, to say hi to and how're you doing. Someone I've been told has no driver's license.
They used to, for probably 30 years, but then things got tight and the renewal notice came and they just didn't have the $75. Figured they'd have it soon, so they let it slide for a couple of weeks, a month, a year... 'til it was too late.
I know all of this second hand. Might not be true. So what are my options?
1. Turn them in. Go to the police and say, this is what I've been told.
2. Do nothing. The current plan.
So my friend and I were talking about this. Is it right to do nothing? If the person is breaking the law, do I not have a responsibility to say something?
If I were to act, and it turned out to be true, the offender would be looking at huge fines. And if they couldn't afford the renewal fee, there's no way they could afford the fines. They wouldn't be able to apply for a new license until the fines were paid off. They could be looking at jail time. Which would leave a family member, disabled and seriously ill, on their own. This is why the offender has needed to continue driving. To care for someone, to provide.
If I were to turn them in, what would happen to the one they love?
All the times I've seen them on the road, I've never seen them do anything irresponsible or worrisome. Which makes sense, I guess. You wouldn't want to get pulled over, so you'd be very careful and law abiding and conservative. A safe driver. Safer than most, I'd bet.
I can't come up with a good enough reason to rat them out. The best I can do is "If I have to have a license..." But that's lame and petty.
Which leaves me a third option.
3. Confront them.
I could, I suppose, take the tiger by the tail and, sometime, tell them I know and they should fix it. Except I know they can't. The idea of walking into a government office and asking for mercy and help is anathema to most of these people. The government is, if not the enemy, at least an obstacle.
For me to insist that they fix it, would require my commitment. I'd have to be willing to do what needed to be done to make it happen. Put my money where my mouth is. Follow it through. Go with them to court, help pay the fines, walk with them through the licensing process, drive them everywhere until it's done.
We're very good at telling people what they ought to do, or ought not to do. We're very good at knowing why we're right and what's unfair and who shouldn't be getting away with what.
But, in the church and in the community, we're not so good at fixing things. Doing the work, inconveniencing ourselves, spending time and money and love on people to work together to make it the way it ought to be.
This question makes me squirm. Every time I see this person behind the wheel somewhere, I squirm, not because I think they're a threat to public safety (quite the opposite), but because the whole thing is so freakin' complicated.
Call my silence 'compromise' if you want to. Or 'slippery slope'. Or 'rationalization'. Or 'situational ethics'.
I call it empathy. Compassion. Maybe even grace. As Shane Claiborne says, "You can have all the right answers and still be mean. And if you're mean, nobody will want to listen to you."
But it still makes me itch.
r
I had this conversation with a friend recently. Hadn't given it much thought until then, but we do find ourselves sometimes privy to information that we wish we didn't have. It comes of being trusted. People tell you things. Things they probably wish they didn't know either.
So, every now and then, I see a person driving around town. Someone I know superficially, to say hi to and how're you doing. Someone I've been told has no driver's license.
They used to, for probably 30 years, but then things got tight and the renewal notice came and they just didn't have the $75. Figured they'd have it soon, so they let it slide for a couple of weeks, a month, a year... 'til it was too late.
I know all of this second hand. Might not be true. So what are my options?
1. Turn them in. Go to the police and say, this is what I've been told.
2. Do nothing. The current plan.
So my friend and I were talking about this. Is it right to do nothing? If the person is breaking the law, do I not have a responsibility to say something?
If I were to act, and it turned out to be true, the offender would be looking at huge fines. And if they couldn't afford the renewal fee, there's no way they could afford the fines. They wouldn't be able to apply for a new license until the fines were paid off. They could be looking at jail time. Which would leave a family member, disabled and seriously ill, on their own. This is why the offender has needed to continue driving. To care for someone, to provide.
If I were to turn them in, what would happen to the one they love?
All the times I've seen them on the road, I've never seen them do anything irresponsible or worrisome. Which makes sense, I guess. You wouldn't want to get pulled over, so you'd be very careful and law abiding and conservative. A safe driver. Safer than most, I'd bet.
I can't come up with a good enough reason to rat them out. The best I can do is "If I have to have a license..." But that's lame and petty.
Which leaves me a third option.
3. Confront them.
I could, I suppose, take the tiger by the tail and, sometime, tell them I know and they should fix it. Except I know they can't. The idea of walking into a government office and asking for mercy and help is anathema to most of these people. The government is, if not the enemy, at least an obstacle.
For me to insist that they fix it, would require my commitment. I'd have to be willing to do what needed to be done to make it happen. Put my money where my mouth is. Follow it through. Go with them to court, help pay the fines, walk with them through the licensing process, drive them everywhere until it's done.
We're very good at telling people what they ought to do, or ought not to do. We're very good at knowing why we're right and what's unfair and who shouldn't be getting away with what.
But, in the church and in the community, we're not so good at fixing things. Doing the work, inconveniencing ourselves, spending time and money and love on people to work together to make it the way it ought to be.
This question makes me squirm. Every time I see this person behind the wheel somewhere, I squirm, not because I think they're a threat to public safety (quite the opposite), but because the whole thing is so freakin' complicated.
Call my silence 'compromise' if you want to. Or 'slippery slope'. Or 'rationalization'. Or 'situational ethics'.
I call it empathy. Compassion. Maybe even grace. As Shane Claiborne says, "You can have all the right answers and still be mean. And if you're mean, nobody will want to listen to you."
But it still makes me itch.
r
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