The other day at the museum, I was in what, for the purposes of the Breakfast Show, I will refer to euphemistically as The Bathroom. There is, needless to say, no bath in there.
What there is, though, as in many such modern public, er, bathrooms, is a cord to be pulled in case of emergency.
And I, in an absent moment, pulled it.
Two things ensued.
First, I got out as fast as I could to escape the horrific, piercing noise of the alarm I had inadvertently sounded. And second, I practically ploughed into my colleague Jeriel from security as he ran up the stairs to make sure I was alright.
Of course, other than feeling ridiculous, I was fine. I am not vulnerable in a way that requires an alarm, or action in response to it. But still, I was very glad that action was taken. Because, well, you never know.
Now, we are at a moment when the real vulnerability of others, of the people of Ukraine, is before us night and day. This is not new. For the Uighur people of China, for example, for the Rohingya people of Myanmar and many others, to be vulnerable in the face of the violent abuse of power is an old story.
One way that Christians have always responded to intense need is to pray; and there are people all over this country, all over the world praying for Ukraine right now. This is good. For people of any faith, it seems the obvious thing to do.
But I am struck, when I read his story in the Bible, by how little Jesus prayed when confronted by the needs of the most vulnerable. Broadly speaking, he didn’t pray. He acted. He healed them; he fed them; he became angry, and he comforted them in sorrow. He lived and died in solidarity with them.
Pretty well every paper is publishing information just now about actual things we can do to help the people of Ukraine. There are medical charities to support and local news outlets to follow. They are easy to find. There are innumerable places to give something – socks, a coat, a sleeping bag, gloves. If you are a praying person, by all means pray.
But find something else to do as well.
Run upstairs when you hear the alarm. Because this time there really is an emergency.