The Ethics of Egg Throwing

Hi Guys. Hope you are well and enjoying the early summer.

Living in city / urban communities is accompanied by all sorts of challenges that are not necessarily present in smaller towns and villages.

My wife Rosemarie often has cause to cross Hyde Park at night. It’s well lit, but it does have some risks. Her strategy, as far as I’m aware, is to move quickly and, if possible, within range of other walkers.

As a regular exercise walker I’ve also discovered that there are ways of indicating to a woman who is walking on her own that you are safe. For example, if I’m approaching someone walking in the opposite direction I make a point of looking away and making space by moving sideways slightly. If I’m going in the same direction and need to overtake I try to indicate my presence with a cough or a scuffing of the shoe. And I also veer aside where that’s possible.

What I’ve not worked out is how to deal with people who get into my space but who become very threatening if they are approached in any way. It’s particularly young aggressive ego’s involved here, and sometimes wealthy and thoughtless egos.

A little while ago I was wakened at 1.30am by the thunder of deafeningly loud music and even louder voices talking over the top of the music. Since our street is well lit it was possible to see that it was a group of five or six young men, of non-European extraction, gathered around a car with its CDs on full volume. All had stubbies in hand. The attitude was clearly that if you don’t like what we’re doing you can get stuffed. I pondered, from my darkened house, what one should (or could) do. Approaching them was simply not an option. I haven’t the guts or the foolishness. One quickly becomes a target, along with one’s house if such egos are challenged. Calling the police wasn’t going to help either because that would only fuel the obvious aggression already fuelled by alcohol.

After about ten minutes, (and having forgotten to pray), I chose the egg option. Collected one from the pantry, eased open the front door unobserved, used an under-arm action not unlike that of Trevor Chappell, and lobbed the egg in their direction. I shut the door quickly so didn’t see what happened.

I heard though. Through the still open – but looking closed – front door there came loud exclamations accompanied by much swearing. At precisely that moment a lady just down the street appeared at her second floor balcony and demanded an end to the noise. They in turn raged about the egg, but knew it hadn’t been her. At least they did kill the music. But they stood looking upwards angrily – at the taller building behind ours, trying to locate the culprit.

You will understand that I wasn’t doing anything to declare my presence. But I was an interested observer as they glared over my head. I still hadn’t seen where the egg had landed but it was obvious they didn’t like the idea of being sitting ducks. They left a few minutes later. I went back to sleep. The next morning I wandered across the street to have a look. My aim had been poor. A cricket umpire would have ruled it a ‘no-ball’. In tennis terms it was a lob that landed just beyond the baseline. It had cleared the car by inches and smashed onto the footpath on the other side. I checked yesterday again. It’s still there.

The incident has also given me cause for thought. Such events often do. What would Jesus do? How would he respond to that sort of situation? Is there anything to know from or for Christian ethics? How do the defenseless, the fearful, and the outnumbered, defend themselves? Was there another way one could have responded? Does “Blessed are the peacemakers” apply? Or perhaps, “As far as it depends on you be at peace with all men”?

I dunno myself. I’d be open to suggestions and responses.

Fred