This week, a friend texted me: ‘How can someone be an ally to a Christian at work?’

If you’re not familiar with the language of ‘allyship’ (or even if you are) this question might sound strange, but it’s now common in many organisations that look to value diversity and inclusion.

These days, to be an ‘ally’ is to be someone who does more than just stand in solidarity with a marginalised person. It’s taking initiative to learn their perspective, to speak up where they won’t or can’t, and to challenge patterns or cultures harmful to them.

Of course, the idea that we should notice who is overlooked, advocate for them, and make space for their flourishing is not a modern invention, it is the kingdom ethic Jesus lived and taught. And it’s a poignant irony that Christians may now be the marginalised ones in need of allyship.

We can rejoice when workplace cultures reflect kingdom values. When a colleague challenges an assumption that all Christians believe the same thing, makes allowances for prayer or fasting, or stands up for a Christian’s right to not promote a work social featuring a drag queen (true story) they are enacting something profoundly Christlike – whether or not they know it.

Nowhere is this more beautifully illustrated than in Jesus’ most famous parable. A religious expert, wanting to justify himself, asks, ‘who is my neighbour?’. In Jesus’ story, neighbourly love is enacted by the most unexpected person – a good Samaritan. The expert admits the Samaritan is the example of neighbourly love.

Then comes the twist: Jesus commands the expert, ‘go and do likewise’.

Suddenly, the whole exchange is upside down. The expert can no longer practice love as a matter of obligation. Jesus has subverted his question, ‘who is my neighbour?’, with another, ‘to whom can you be a neighbour?’

Unlike the expert, Christians do not seek special status before people, nor exemption from God’s law of love. But that doesn’t make Jesus’ challenge to the expert any less provocative for us today. Instead of asking, ‘who is my ally?’, we ask ‘to whom can I be an ally?’

That will mean using our voices, policies, and prayers to help colleagues flourish, whether they have protected characteristics or not. In that way, we too, might become unexpected examples of what Jesus-like neighbourly love looks like.

Tim Yearsley
Tim is Head of Innovation at LICC and writes regularly on film, cultural oddities, and quirky news items for Connecting with Culture.