When Rejection is a Big Deal

Through Eyes of an Introvert

Rejection is one of the most painful human experiences, one from which many of its victims never fully recover. American psychologist Abraham Harold Maslow (1908–1970) is famed for his theory on the hierarchy of needs in people’s quest for self-actualization. The theory posits that human needs are ordered in a prepotent hierarchy. In other words, lower-level needs in a person’s everyday life must be satisfied before s/he can focus on higher needs. According to Maslow, placement of moral values, competence in everyday skills, respect for self and others, etc., are derived from a person’s sense of belonging and acceptance. While it’s not my place to validate such theorem, it’s interesting to note that an individual’s social connectedness has bearing on his sense of purpose.

Before he took his own life, Pulitzer award winning photojournalist, Kevin Carter, wrote; “I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings & corpses & anger & pain.” It’s doubtful anything haunted Kevin more than the photograph that won him the Pulitzer award, “Starving Child and a Vulture”. While documenting the drought situation in Sudan in 1993, Carter found a little African child struggling to walk to a feeding center. The poor girl had collapsed, too frail to drag her emancipated feet. As Kevin readied his camera for a good shot, a huge vulture landed behind the naked toddler, ready to pounce on easy prey. The cameraman had been warned against touching locals for fear of contacting diseases. His mission was journalistic, not humanitarian. A great photo could draw the world’s attention to the plight of Sudanese people. But right in front of him was a child needing immediate rescue from double jeopardy. Conflicted, Kevin couldn’t decide what was more important. He simply shot pictures and left the scene. The devastating effects of war and drought in Sudan didn’t cost Kevin’s life, guilt did. Each of us is endowed with the gift of mercy, but we have the prerogative to turn down opportunities to exercise it.

Hitting Closer Home

2020 touched base with me in more ways than one. I was born to a culture which names its offspring after other members on the family tree. One of my older brothers was named after our grandfather on our mother’s side. On the day I was born and named after Mom’s only brother, my brother exclaimed in his boyish excitement, “why has Mom given birth to my son?” We remained as close as any follow-up sibling could be. In a telephone conversation one July weekend, we agreed he’d email me his prescription, so I’d source medication for him from the United States. He’d just been discharged from a Nairobi hospital, and my hope of flying him over had to be put on hold. He was in no shape to take a nineteen-hour flight. Midway into the week, I arrived home to find my wife dumb with shock. She handed me her cellphone to read the WhatsApp text for myself. My brother was dead! Slain! An assailant took advantage of my brother’s helpless state to butcher him! The culprit—a member of his immediate family!

It took a whole year and loads of wasted resources for a judge to rule on my brother’s burial venue. I could not attend the funeral. The entire globe was on covid-19 lock down. Air travel was suspended. Planet earth was very tense, suffocating under unprecedented challenges. But let me tell you another story; I am an introvert. I was born to a closed culture that’s not explicit on private matters. I am not one to toss personal issues to the public square without objective.

Hard Times Teach Hard Lessons

To say 2020 was a difficult year would be a gross understatement. By the date of this writing, the pandemic has claimed nearly 1.8 million lives globally, and over one third of a million in the United States alone! What’s more, multiplied millions are fighting for their lives in overstretched medical facilities. Behind those numbers are be-widowed spouses, orphaned children, lost breadwinners, ruined livelihoods, broken dreams, silenced mentors and irreplaceable society guides. The cost in economic, intellectual and social capital is inestimable. And that doesn’t even begin to evaluate the long-term psychological trauma on individuals, families, and society. We might all want to ask ourselves: What lessons can we take away from all these?

In her poignant song, JJ Heller asks, ‘Who Will Love Me For Me?’ A world steeped in biases teaches people to invent cheap answers to life’s puzzles. By accusing Job of wrongdoing, three of his friends sought to isolate his tragedy from the realm of ordinary human experience. Job’s old friends pervade every stratum of social demographic. They always know why misfortune befalls other people. It justifies their callousness toward the suffering of fellow human beings.

History is replete with accounts of men who rallied the masses for atrocious feats. Driven by greed and selfish motives, inciters enlist public support by stoking baseless fear. Nimrod sought to rule the world from a control center. God had instructed mankind to spread out and fill the earth. Nimrod invented a perfect solution to counter the threat God’s instruction posed to his grip on power—build a tower high enough to reach the heavens! The Tower of Babel was the first public rejection of divine ordinance. There are many examples. Adolf Hitler is a more contemporary specimen. By stoking baseless fear and mistrust, he caused the holocaust of six million Jews.

Rejection of Christ

Three of the four Gospel writers record Christ’s words concerning people’s rejection of Him. …Did ye never read in the scriptures, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner…? Matthew 21:42 (also Mark 12:10, Luke 20:17). King David had made that prediction centuries before by the Spirit of prophecy. Rejection of Christ was unique in scale and consequence.

The cross of Calvary is the ultimate emblem of rejection. Jesus was rejected by His Jewish people, by Roman authorities, by everyone! As the bloodied Savior hung on a wooden cross, rejected by the world He had come to redeem, even God His Father turned His face away from Him! To really pay the penalty of the sins of the world, Jesus was not only clothed with sin, He became sin itself. Only then could He rescue you and me from satan’s tyranny.

We tell the story of Christ’s cross, not as a morbid tale of man’s cruelty, but as testimony of God’s love and mercy toward mankind. Still, preaching of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing (1 Corinthians 1:18). Nobody likes to be rejected. According to Maslow’s law, social acceptance is an essential human need. Rejection has dire consequences on victims and perpetrators alike. In most instances, rejecting another person stems from bitterness, hate, or thirst for revenge. It can easily facilitate the means to harm other people.

Life pushes us all to take a stand on knotty issues. It takes great courage to go against the grain when doing so elicits public contempt. All too often, good people make very bad choices for fear of displeasing others. On His part, the Son of God chose to drink the cup of utmost rejection in order to purchase eternal redemption for sinful mankind. How you choose to relate to Jesus Christ will often put you in a social dilemma.

Life’s challenges always ignite the processes that separate gold from dross, sheep from goats, and persons of integrity from pretentious mobs. While 2020 was unique in myriads of ways, what happened within the twelve calendar months will soon be forgotten. It will all fade away under heaps of attention-grabbing events that are sure to hit the world in the days ahead. What will truly matter in your future and mine, is how we treat people that God puts in our way. Jesus set an eternal example on the value of unselfish choices. If the past haunts us with memories of poor choices, today provides an opportunity to begin again. The real essence of growth is to learn lessons that past mistakes reveal about our weaknesses.