Address given at the diocesan Safeguarding service in June 24.
We use the language of 'Gifts' in different ways. We speak of an artist or musician as being ‘gifted’ - we call it a gift because, to some degree or other, we recognise those abilities as coming from a ‘higher power’. And so, they pass on their gift to us. If you have ever found your soul being stirred by music, or your eyes unable to fully take in the beauty of a piece of art, then you will know this unfathomable gift.
Life itself is a gift - expressed in the African Caribbean women's greeting, “I thank God that I’m alive.”
Time is a gift and we can choose how to use this gift. When we spend time with someone, we are giving them the gift of our time. It’s a precious gift and we shouldn’t underestimate the significance of choosing to gift it to one particular person, or a group of people.
But more important than all of that, I want to stress that we are a gift - every single one of us. The dignity of our personhood is such that we - as human beings - are a gift.
So the newborn baby is a gift, even though they are entirely dependent on others and can do almost nothing for themselves.
The older person with dementia is a gift even though they can’t contribute to society in the way they may have done when they were younger.
And when I spoke recently to the mother of a non-verbal teenager who has multiple additional needs and requires 24-hour care, she was at pains to stress to me that she sees her daughter as the most wonderful gift. She was not the daughter that this woman and her husband were expecting when they started on the journey of parenthood, and they had to learn to adjust their expectations. But now, seventeen years on, she was clear that her daughter had transformed her understanding of the nature of love.
So, my first question is: can I see myself as a gift? There are multiple reasons why some people struggle to see themselves as a gift to others. When I spoke at an international conference a couple of years ago, a woman from South Africa said to me: “I am a teacher working in a township on the edge of a big city – my students have been told all their lives that they are less than human, that they will never amount to anything – how can they ever see themselves as a gift?”
We have work to do in many of our communities here in Leicester to help people overcome the messages they have received and absorbed since birth. Every one of us is a gift – not because of what we can do, or where we were born, or our physical or mental health – no, we are a gift because we bear the image of God. We have worth because God says we have worth, and we matter to Him.
But then, I wonder, how easy is it to see another person as a gift to me? To see them as a human being, not some commodity which exists solely for my gratification, or something which can be used for my purposes.
This recognition of personhood as a gift is central to the field of safeguarding. I am not speaking here of the gifts that people have, but rather the gift that people are. Our approach to safeguarding begins with the recognition that all people, whatever their age, their heritage, their physical appearance – all people, whatever they can or can’t do – all people are gifts from God.
In Genesis, the first account of creation contains a list of ‘goods’ – God sees each part of creation and declares that it is good. In Chapter 12:18, we hear the first ‘not good’ of creation - ‘it is not good for man to be alone’. And so God creates a ‘helper’ (the Hebrew word carries the sense of ally or rescuer - it is often used of God). Although the passage goes on to speak of marriage, it is clear from elsewhere in the Bible that family, community and society are also in view. We were created to be in relationship with other human beings, and therefore, by definition, every human being is a gift. Hence, the African version of Descartes’ famous saying, ‘I am because we are’. Relationships are key to human flourishing.
The reason we are having to address issues of safeguarding is the refusal, by some, to recognise the other as a gift – a refusal to see their personhood, to respect them as a bearer of the image of God, to honour them as a unique person, loved by God. Instead, they have been treated as a commodity, a toy, something to be used by someone who holds power over them. And tragically, far too many people know just how damaging that can be.
This is why I see safeguarding as being about a recovery of the true concept of gift. Because a gift is something we can’t control - we don’t decide what gifts are offered to us.
And a gift demands something of us. For it to remain a gift, it has to be received with gratitude, it has to be honoured in the way the giver intends otherwise it loses its character as a gift.
And a gift creates a bond between giver and receiver - we become tied together in a deep and personal way. Gifts create connections and deepen relationships. And the circulation of gifts creates community.
The famous story of the prodigal son – sometimes called the story of the two sons – is a case in point. The younger son asks his father for his inheritance. In effect he wishes his father dead so he can have his money. This is classic abuse – he sees his father as nothing more than a provider of money – he refuses to see his personhood or to acknowledge the deep and personal relationship between them.
The father doesn’t respond to the abuse – he gives the money and allows his son to leave. The son squanders the money on wild living until eventually it is all used up and he finds himself caring for pigs, wishing he could eat their food.
This is the cycle of abuse – because now the son doesn’t even recognise his own personhood – he sees himself as little more than an animal.
Yet he dares to believe that he might be able to go back and earn his father’s respect. Only to find, when he does go back, that his father runs to meet him; throws his arms around him and kisses him – in other words, he immediately recognises his personhood, reinstates him as his son and restores the relationship.
Then he gives him a new robe, a ring and some sandals, and he throws a party to welcome him home – all of them gifts which deepen the relationship and restore him to community.
The older son resents this outpouring of generosity towards his brother, and he becomes angry – why is my brother getting special treatment? To which his father says – you are always with me and all that I have is yours – in other words – I have always treated you as a gift to me; and you remain a gift to me, but your brother was lost and needed to be restored to this status of gift.
So I leave you with these questions: Can you see yourself as a gift? Do you see others around you as a gift? How do you receive the gift of the other? And how do we make our communities places where everyone sees themselves and others as a gift? Only as we do this, will our communities become safe places, filled with the love of God.
+Martyn Leicester