S2-Day 3: God in the Classroom

On 12th June, 2020, I visited a shelter home, especially arranged for migrant workers in Bengaluru. The peculiarity about this shelter home is that it is a college-turned-shelter home. Most of these migrant workers were kicked out from the rented houses as they were unable to pay the rent. As they were left with nothing, they are waiting for the special train arranged by the government to return home. Since they opened the door to their classroom, 300 migrant workers have returned home safely; currently, around 140 people from the North East are taking shelter. 

The above event directly corresponds with the story of Jesus and lawyer about “Who is my neighbour?” (cf. Luke 10:25-37). When a man was assaulted by robbers on his way to Jericho, a priest, a Levite passed through him, but ignored him and went away. Then, a travelling Samaritan saw him, was moved, and decided to help him. The Samaritan tended to his wound and provided a place to take shelter. In theological seminaries, the story of the Good Samaritan is usually used as a perfect example to pose the question, who is my neighbour? Neighbour, in this case, refer not to the victim of the assault, but to the one who showed compassion. Similar to the compassionate gesture shown by the stranger, we are commissioned to do likewise. The classroom owner by opening the classroom has become the neighbour for the migrants. 

The irony is, the person helping the migrants said, it was a struggle finding a shelter place for them. Approach was made to some Christian colleges and theological seminaries in Bengaluru to open their classroom. But they turned down. Some were reluctant to open their class-room even for a night, even when the classrooms were empty. Seems like the class-room that challenged us to rethink the question of who is my neighbour has become nothing, but a symbol that discusses sophisticated ideologies and dogmas. It only confirmed that the class-room is for the privilege. 

While on the other hand, the classrooms, that have no idea about such teaching, have become a place for people to realise the love of God. In this classroom, the existence of God becomes real to these migrant workers when a stranger opens the door for shelter and food. Are classrooms only for learning? Can they be shared spaces at times of crises? The existence of God becomes real when a seven-month old baby gets milk to drink; when their hunger is met, when their exhausted body gets a space to sleep. 

The fact that Jesus too suffered and lived a life of migrant is giving them hope. It gives them hope that God truly understand the pain they are going through. And that God comes in rescue, by providing help through a complete stranger. The class-rooms, where the migrant workers are temporarily residing, are not in the best of conditions. It is congested, messy, and dirty. But in such unlikely place, they are recognizing the profound presence of God. Surely, God is manifesting Godself in these classrooms. God surely is residing with the people who are hurting and broken. 

In light of this reality, perhaps, we need to move from the question “who is my neighbour” to: Were you there, when I needed a neighbour? Were you there, when I was hungry and thirsty? Were you there, when I needed shelter? 

Prayer 

God, our true neighbour, we pray, you will disturb our hearts to be sensitive to the need of others. Disturb our life to live by the word we speak/teach. Open our eyes to see the pain of the world. Amen. 

***********

Author: Ngalaton Hungyo 

About the Author: Ngalaton completed her B. D from Bishop College (Kolkata) and M.Th in Christian Ethics from United Theological College (Bengaluru). Currently, she is working as the Chaplin at Tangkhul Christian Fellowship, Bengaluru.