It sounds strange, even foolish—who would knowingly take a bath with dirty water? Everyone looks for clean water to be refreshed and purified.
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Liba Hopeson
It sounds strange, even foolish—who would knowingly take a bath with dirty water? Everyone looks for clean water to be refreshed and purified. Yet in real life, many people do exactly the opposite—not with water, but with attitudes and actions. We dislike certain behaviours; we criticise and speak against them, but in the end, we fall into the same pattern. We reject what is wrong, yet we repeat it in another form. What we condemn outwardly, we often reproduce inwardly. And unless there is a deeper inner transformation, this pattern quietly continues. This is like choosing dirty water while knowing it is dirty.
One clear example is seen in the issue of tribalism and other “isms” that promote narrow thinking and exclusivism. We often criticize leaders or groups who focus only on their own tribe or community. We say they are self-centered, that they do not care about others, and that such thinking creates division. This criticism is valid. But the problem begins with our response. Instead of finding ways to bridge the gap, build relationships, and promote unity, we often react by withdrawing. We separate ourselves, form our own groups, and begin to think in the same exclusive way.
Even more subtly, while claiming to promote inclusivism, many end up practicing a new form of exclusivism. In rejecting those who are exclusive, they themselves become exclusive—excluding the “exclusivists.” Thus, their inclusivism carries within it a hidden exclusivity. It becomes self-defeating: an attempt to include all, except those who do not think like them. In opposing division, they recreate it in another form. In trying to oppose tribalism, we end up practicing another form of it. We do not heal division—we multiply it. This is like taking a bath with dirty water: we see the dirt, yet we step into it anyway.
Another common and serious example is hatred. We all agree that hatred is wrong. We see how it divides people, destroys relationships, and even leads to violence. So we criticize those who hate others. But instead of overcoming hatred, many people begin to hate those who hate. What begins as moral outrage slowly turns into moral contradiction. And without inner renewal, the heart simply redirects hatred rather than removes it. It may feel justified, but it is still the same problem in a different form. Hating hatred is right, but hating people who hate is not the solution. Otherwise, we become carriers of the very disease we claim to oppose. It only continues the cycle.
A simple but powerful example is seen in violence. When someone is harmed or killed because of hatred, we strongly condemn it—and rightly so. But often, instead of seeking justice with wisdom, people turn to revenge. They take the life of the one who killed, or of those associated with them, believing it will bring justice. Another life is taken, more violence follows, and the cycle continues. What started as opposition to evil ends in repeating the same evil. The line between victim and perpetrator becomes blurred, especially when the heart remains unchanged. We become what we opposed. Once again, it is like bathing with dirty water—we reject it, yet we use it.
Why does this happen? One reason is that it is easier to react than to transform. It is easier to criticize than to correct. It is easier to hate than to love. Reaction requires emotion; transformation requires character—and ultimately, transformation requires a changed heart. True change requires effort, humility, and patience. It requires us not only to see what is wrong, but also to choose a different path. Many people stop at criticism; they do not move toward real change. They diagnose the problem correctly but prescribe the wrong cure, because the real issue lies deeper within.
There is a well-known truth: “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” The same is true in every area of life. Division cannot be healed by more division. Wrong cannot be corrected by repeating it in another form. Darkness does not disappear by spreading more darkness, but by introducing light—and that light must first shine within us. If we truly want change, we must choose a better response.
The challenge, then, is simple but demanding. When we see tribalism, we must practice unity. When we see exclusion, we must include. When we see hatred, we must respond with love. When we see violence, we must pursue justice without becoming violent ourselves. We must not only resist evil externally but refuse to imitate it internally. And this kind of life is not sustained by willpower alone, but by genuine transformation. It is not enough to criticize the problem—we must refuse to become part of it.
In the end, the question remains: will we continue to bath in dirty water, or will we choose what is clean? Real change begins when we not only reject what is wrong, but also live out what is right. Unless we truly encounter Christ personally, this cycle will continue—we will keep doing the very things we oppose. True Christianity is not merely identifying evil, but refusing to participate in it, because our hearts have been changed by Him. The true test of our convictions is not what we oppose, but what we become.