Ramadan 2025 Day Twenty: Abolition is Love

And when he [Moses] arrived at the waters of Midian,
he found a group of shepherds watering their flocks,
and beside them two women who were keeping their flocks back.
So he asked them, ‘What is the matter?’ They replied, ‘
We cannot draw water for our flocks until the shepherds take their sheep away -
our father is a very old man.’
So he drew water for them, then returned to the shade, and said,
‘Oh my Lord! Whatever good thing You may send me, I am in dire need of it!’
Then one of the two women shyly approached him and said,
‘My father is asking for you: he wants to reward you for giving us water for our flocks.’
Then, when Moses came to him and told him his story,
the old man said ‘Do not be afraid, you are safe now from people who do you wrong.’
​One of the women said, ‘Father, hire him- a strong, trustworthy man is a good hire.’”
-Sura Al Qasa

Bryan Stevenson reminds us that “Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.” If only this were actually applied to everyone.

Some among us have gotten many “free passes” for harm that we have caused. Without any process of repentance, repair, relationship, and sustained transformation - they get to go on with their lives as though there are not literal bodies in their wake. There is little to no acknowledgement of the ways in which their actions have hurt others, and sometimes they are even rewarded for them. They hold positions or identities that our society has been built to reward and protect at all costs. Including the lives of others.

And then there are those who are permanently labeled and essentialized by “the worst thing they’ve ever done.” There is no exploration of why they made the choices that they did, what prevention could have happened, what restoration or healing is possible. They are cut off from community, cut off from care, cut off from any invitation and support to change, cut off by a society that was designed to diminish and eliminate them since its inception.

It doesn’t have to be like this. It should not be like this. Both ends of this spectrum are reflections of a society that has never had collective care at its center. That has never believed that ALL of us are inherently worthy of compassionate community. That has always assumed that some of us are better than others, that some of us are more deserving of forgiveness and love. That some of us are human and some of us are not.

Moses, after killing one man and almost killing another, was given the chance to share his story with a community that saw his humanity. That understood there was more to him than the worst thing he had ever done. He was welcomed and given a place to tend to his and others’ wellbeing as he sought guidance from God in the wake of his mistakes.

What if we made that the norm, not the exception? What if we were willing to take care of each other, even in our most wretched moments? What if we actually built a society with the understanding that we are all so much more than the worst thing we have ever done?