The Rain Falls On The Just And The Unjust

I've always heard them say, "The rain falls on the just and the unjust," and wondered what they mean.

See, the thing is, I've always loved rain. Growing up, Mum always made us carry an umbrella to school so that even if it rained on the way home, we would be sheltered from the rain. Sometimes, even if I had an umbrella in my bagpack, I would still walk in the rain because I loved the way it fell on my head and my skin, and even the squishy feeling of my wet socks rubbing against the insides of my shoes. But once I got home, I would hurriedly take off my socks. The moist feeling wasn't quite so fun anymore and I'd be eager to get dry. But then I moved to Anderson, and the rains there were not the warm rain that I could cool off in. The freezing rains annoyed me because I quickly learnt how much I hated the cold weather.

Which makes me wonder, when they say "the rain falls on the just and the unjust," do they mean the warm rain in Singapore that I love, or the freezing Anderson rain that I detest?

And who do they mean by just or unjust? See, I used to have clear definitions of who the just were and who the unjust were. The just were the good people--the ones who overflowed with Jesusness and everything they did was Christian and Christlike. They had decent jobs and a good reputation. And the unjust were... Well, the ones who clearly could do better with their lives but weren't willing to try hard enough.

I don't know when the lines started to blur for me, but I finally noticed it last summer. The people I hung out with and would consider to be my friends fell into the category of the ones that I would have previously labeled unjust and have nothing to do with. I wish I could say it was because I was overflowing with the love of Jesus to the point that whether they fell into the category of just or unjust didn't matter anymore, and that I would be able to love them anyway.

The truth is, if I were completely honest, the reason why I hung out with them was because I thought I had something to offer them. But when I heard all the stories that led them to the places that they were when we became friends, it was then that I realised how I had made those judgment calls of "just" or "unjust" based on the way I was socialised to interact with them.

I used to think that aside from the poor little women in Africa who made TAPP beads and the likes of them, everyone else who was HIV-positive got it because they made irresponsible life-decisions. Would I have chosen to not associate with them simply because they were HIV-positive? I think not. But the friends that I got to know last summer made me realise that even though they were in places that I wouldn't have usually found myself in when we met, the reality is that I could very well be where they are, even given the upbringing and socialization that I've had. Sure, they've made a few choices that I'd like to say I would never make., but if I were in the circumstances that they found themselves in when they started making the first "bad" decision, I don't know that I would have done anything different.

But the rain falls on the just and the unjust. If Justin had a choice, I'm not sure he'd start down the path of drug abuse which eventually led him to the day that, even after deciding to get cleaned up, he received his diagnosis of being HIV-positive.

All that to say, I'm not sure who the just or unjust are anymore. But I know that I hate the word cancer. Even more than that, I hate HIV. And not because the physical suffering of one condition is worse than the other, but because I'm guilty of having judged one as "deserving" of suffering.

When the truth is, as it boils down to it, who am I to judge? Besides, the rain falls on both the just and the unjust. So what does it matter?