The bell tolls for thee

A friend came to our door early this morning, before we’d even gotten up for church, and we found that her 3-year-old son had fallen off a roof.  He has a traumatic brain injury, and possibly other injuries as well.  They took him to the doctor who prescribed something so that he’d stop throwing up his food, but they haven’t been able to do the CT scan yet or the MRI.  I don’t know that he’s going to make it.

At church, our pastor tries to make an announcement, and then tears come.  He has something wrong with his spleen, and the doctors believe it may be cancer.  A biopsy has been taken and the results will be available next week.

That juxtaposition this morning, this impoverished no-name three-year old boy and this well-off, well-known middle-aged pastor, both facing death.

It makes me think of the mother down the alleyway who died of a fever a few months ago, leaving behind three little kids, and the foreigners serving in Cambodia who died in a car crash a few years ago, leaving behind two little kids.

It makes me think of the boy across the alley who died of tuberculosis at the age of 18, and the niece of my ex-pat friend who died of suicide at the age of 18.

It makes me think of the father of my close friend in the slum, who died with us after a long battle with drug addiction, and the best friend of my close friend in the city, who died fighting in Afghanistan. 

And many others.

It doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from.  We will die.  Everyone we know will die. 

And yet I can’t get over my sadness at death. I can’t get over the loss.  I can’t get used to the children left behind, the parents left behind, the siblings left behind.

I don’t have to get used to it.

Jesus wept.

We aren’t asked to stop being sad about death.  What we are asked to do is live.

Tomorrow might be the last day you have before you die.  You don’t know.  But what you do know, for certain, is that tomorrow will be one day that you only have tomorrow, a day that you will never get back, a day to LIVE before you die.  Use it!  Live it!

Because the truth is, cancer and tuberculosis and dengue and car accidents and fevers are not what make this world a difficult place.    Take away every early death, and there is still suffering.  Take away every physical illness, and there is still anxiety, greed, anger, fear, depression, distrust, selfishness, hatred, callousness, and so on.   Take away poverty, take away lack, take away hunger, give a people the most advanced medical systems in the world, arrange their entire childhood around safety, will they really live any better than anyone else?

The removal of poverty and lack and hunger does not in itself bring life.  The safest childhood in the world and the most advanced medical systems in the world do not bring life.  Those things can only put off death.  And none of those things can put off death forever.

A child spends more time at school learning skills to help him make his own money in the future than learning how to bring joy to others right now.  Young people appear far more focused on trying to get the right certificates than on trying to do the right thing.  Working adults in our country appear to structure their priorities so that they are far more focused on saving for the future than on giving in the here and now.  And to what end are all these certificates and aspirations and future plans?  We have a president who has EVERYTHING we are told to seek after, he IS the American Dream.  Money.  Power.  Marriages to beautiful women.  Fame.  Long life.  So what has all that done to him?  Is his average day, his typical interaction, full of joy and contentment or bitterness and anger?  Listen to him speak (or tweet) without a script.  Do you hear love or hate?  Hope or fear?

What could is putting off death long enough to gain all the things of the world if you’ve never learned how to live in the meantime?

Being faced with death so regularly here is difficult, but it is a clear reminder: I am going to die, and I don’t know when.  We are all going to die.  We have to come to terms with that.  The question is not whether we will succeed in putting off death, but whether we will find life and live life before we die.  And all the things this world is telling us to do to put off death, all these things the world is convincing us that we have to gain before you die, not ONE of those things is going to make us alive.

Find the living.  Be the living.  Stop chasing the things of death and the false promise of extension of life before it’s too late.

Leave the dead to bury their own dead.

What Jesus died for

On (Western calendar) Palm Sunday last week, we went to church with the girls that Rosey counsels.  It was a new church for me, and the pastor’s body language was positive.  He was sincere in his prayers; cared about the congregation in front of him.  That sincerity spread to the congregation, many of whom cried when the girls shared their own stories.  You could see women across the church using their dupatas to hide their faces and cover their tears.

One of the women who runs the house gave a message about the Palm Sunday cry: “Hosanna!”  I had long forgotten that “Hosanna” is a cry for help in Hebrew.  “Save us!” we cry to the King of Glory as he enters the city, humble on the colt of a donkey.  “Save us!” we cry out to the Prince of Peace.  She vulnerably shared her own story of being sexually assaulted as a teen, an incredible risk in an Indian context.  “Save me!” she cried from her own experience of pain and separation from others and from God.  She spoke of how God’s rescue of her inspired her own willingness to serve others, and expanded the Hosanna cry from a one-step personal plea to a two-step direction for life.  “We are being saved to save.”

We are being saved to save.

Where do we believe our salvation will be found, and what do we think it will consist in?  As I sat in a (Western calendar) Easter service this morning, the limited aspirations of our presidential candidates ran through my mind.  The ones who claim to reject money are the very ones who think the right application of money will solve all our problems.  The ones who belittle government power are the very ones who seem willing to do anything to acquire it.  The ones who act the most distressed about violence are the ones who brag about what violence will accomplish in their hands.

We will not be saved by the proper application of violence.  We will not be saved by the proper application of power.  We will not be saved by the proper application of money.  And thus we will not be saved by a vote for those who only know how to use money, power, or violence to change the world.

Jesus [“He saves”] came to those calling hosanna [“Save us!”], having rejected the wealth of the world, the power of the world, and the violence of the world.  Yet on Good Friday and Easter, without employing any of these things, he brought salvation.  In the brief years preceding that terminal week, He told stories of how a willingness to trust God for provision could replace a need to trust in accumulating our own money, that a willingness to submit to God’s authority could replace a need to trust in acquiring our own power, and a willingness to place faith in God’s security could replace a need to trust in employing our own violence.  And in His last week He culminated the rejection of those false needs in taking up His cross and surrendering all to the One who could be trusted in, even unto death.

God saved Jesus so that Jesus could save.

And we are being saved so that we may extend that salvation to others.

We are being saved to save.

The safe house where many of those girls feel that they are being saved is in a tenuous position.  It will only exist so long as being-saved people maintain open hands so their money may flow out to anyone in need.  It will only be staffed so long as being-saved people have humility to give up positions of authority in order to work for far more humble positions with the girls.  And it will only make a lasting difference so long as being-saved people break into the cycle of violence which brought the young girls here – the powerful men using violence to abuse the lowly men who abuse the women who abuse the children – with a love greater than violence.

In that Palm Sunday service last week, the pastor stepped up to the podium after the girls had spoken, opened his notes, took a look, then closed them again.  “I had a message prepared for Palm Sunday today,” he told the congregation.  “But I just want to let the testimony of our friend and these girls stand.”  He then asked someone to pray for all of us, and closed the meeting.

Don't hit

I looked outside to see my 13-year-old neighbor beating on his 9-year-old sister, hitting her as hard as he could. I got upset at him, saying, “Don't hit! Stop hitting her, ever!” with a stern expression on my face.

“Don't hit?” he repeating quizzically with a half-grin. He was completely confused. I might as well have been saying, “Don't eat.” I turned and saw his mother behind me, who I had not realized was there. She looked just as confused.

I understand why. The mother is always hitting the children. The oldest son is always hitting his other siblings. The other children are always hitting each other. Violence is ingrained into them. The oldest boy even seems to take joy in it. When he's hitting one of his little sisters I get so mad I want to smack him across the face.

Wait.

Violence is ingrained into us.

I don't have to study sociology to understand why there is so much violence here. I can view the roots within my own heart. I can read it in the Bible from Genesis 3:5-8 to James 4:1-2. In case we think we come from a more civilized time, remember that the last century saw more people die in war than all previous centuries combined. In America we re-elected a president who makes up a list each week of people he wants to kill and before that a president who seemed to be listing countries he wanted to eliminate. Look at General Sisi's purge and its tens of millions of fans, or Putin's saber-waving and his hundreds of millions of fans. Read the internet comments under every story about an execution, drone attack, police shooting, serious crime, or Trayvon Martin. We are a blood-lustful people. And most of you reading this can understand why, because somewhere in your own heart you feel a capacity for violence as well.

If only it were all so simple!  If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them.  But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.  And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart? - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Jesus could not have been unaware of this the human tendency towards violent solutions. Judas handed him over to the executioner for 30 pieces of silver. Peter chopped the ear off of a man. James and John asked if they could destroy a village. The chief priests and elders spat in his face and beat him while sentencing him to die. The governor and his soldiers mocked him, lashed him, and nailed him to a cross. And the same crowds he spoke of love to shouted “crucify him!”

If Jesus was truly human, he may even have known the potential for this angry bloodlust in his own heart.

Yet he knew a way out.

The key was his recognition of the true enemy.

In Matthew 4:1-10, Jesus engages in an epic confrontation with the satan. Jesus defends himself not through violence, but through reliance on God. He rejects Satan's ways of false security, public glory, and worldly power (the ways of the world) in favor of meekness and trust in God. He exposed society's need to provide infinite goods for oneself (Matthew 4:3), the need to look amazing in the eyes of others (Matthew 4:5-6), and the need to wield control over others (Matthew 4:8-9). Jesus saw through these things and saw that the satan himself was the true enemy and defeated him. He released himself to fully love others and show them the way to God's kingdom. That way led to the cross, yet also to the resurrection. That way led to suffering, yet also to freedom. That way led away from the ways of the world and to true humanity.

Put aside the need to possess things.

Put aside the need to be praised by others.

Put aside the need to control others.

Love others with your full heart, knowing that the satan is the true enemy, not them.

Ask God to take your bloodlust and your violence away.

A bit at a time, let the Kingdom of God take possession in your heart.

In this, and only this, will we find victory.

And when you've glimpsed enough of this to begin to know what it means for yourself, personally, share what you've glimpsed with others, in love.

Only in this will the beatings ever stop.

Until then, pray for those who are beaten, raped, shot, injected, or bombed every day by those of us who are still learning to let God conquer our hearts. Messiah Jesus be with them.

Something Like Scales (Tom Wuest)

In our blindness, lead us down that road

In our ignorance, lead us down that road

In our violence, hate and indifference

We pray Lord you give us new sight

Let something like scales, fall from our eyes

Something like scales fall from our eyes

Jesus, lead us down that road

Lead us down that road

The Good News

In December, so many bad things were happening that it felt impossible for me to share.

Strangely, now that fewer "bad" things are happening, it seems equally hard to come up with much to share.  World events and social trends, of course, continue to concern me.  But as far as daily life goes, in the stage we're at right now most of life is learning Hindi, visiting people, trying to figure out how to live life to the fullest in a slum one day at a time.  When nothing bad is happening, there's not always a ton to talk about.

So instead, I want to try out a draft of what I see as the "Good News".

I'm not trying to repeat "what I think Jesus was saying in 30 A.D."  Jesus was the Messiah, speaking to the Jewish people, and said a lot of very specific things to a specific group of people at a specific time in history.  But I do believe that when Jesus announced the Good News of the coming of the Kingdom of God, that he made clear it was a Kingdom for everyone.  This is what I believe the Good News is to us:


1) God is our creator, who created us for this world and desires both the good of the world and our own good within it. Our lives are best lived when we're living in sync with God.

2) The primary concerns of society - wealth, power, security in things, revenge against enemies - are the opposite of what our hearts need. These desires will not bring us peace with ourselves, our neighbors, or with God. God's ways, not the ways of society, have the ultimate authority.

3) God has shown us His way subversively, not through domination or force but through Jesus, a Son who in bringing God to Earth chose service and humility rather than power and violence. In Jesus's life, death, and resurrection, he transformed the way to the Father and unveiled God's true character. This unveiling gives us the chance to choose what kind of life we're going to accept, the Way of the Christ-followers or the way of the society-followers. We believe that Christ's Way is open to everyone.

4) The center of this new Way is that we replace our self-seeking fears (which cause us to lust after wealth or power, to chase security or revenge, and then call it "normal" because everyone around us is doing it) with other-focused love. We are to "love God" and "love our neighbors as ourselves". There is a special emphasis on loving those who are most in need of love - the weak, the hated, the marginalized.

5) Being a part of the Kingdom of God, choosing his ways over the ways of the world, trying to embody a new community of love, means going counterculture. That is difficult. But Jesus has done it first. If we take up the cross and follow him, through the difficulty we will find a better way to live for us and the people around us. As we discover this new life, we have both a responsibility and a desire to share with others what we've found.

6) The primary manner in which God's ways and God's love are shared are via community. It is true that we are called to give even to those we don't know, to love and serve even those whom we may meet only once. But the most difficult and most rewarding expression of God's ultimate desire for our lives is expressed in the daily acts of reciprocal love and service that are found in a community of Christ-followers. In the place in which we plant ourselves, we are called to continuously grow in true humility and non-judgement, true simplicity, true service, and true unity. We are to holistically express God's love in every aspect of our lives, keeping nothing in the dark but opening up even our weaknesses and faults and shortcomings in vulnerability so that God can overcome them. And these communities, in their love and service and unity, are to be cities on a hill showing God's love to the rest of the world, and leading them to his Kingdom here in this age.

7) We live in hope of a future age to come, of a world of justice where all wrongs are righted, all pain is relieved, all truth is known, and all love is possible. We believe that Christ will bring this world, his Kingdom in full, and that we will live in it in glory. Every step we take to grow closer to Him and to others and to love more fully in this age lets us know that much more what we have to hope for in the age to come.



Obviously, this is the train of thought that is governing my life, but I just thought about putting it into words this morning.  Let me know what you think and whether there's anything here that might be out of line with what I really believe, or what I really should believe.  

Inviting those who can't pay you back

The tension was clear.

Our friends explained their dire financial situation. Their landlord, who is prejudiced against Muslims, had bumped their already inflated rent another 25% in an effort to get them to leave. They used everything they had to pay her, and now could not afford food. Their teenage daughter (who had just started school for the first time) had to be pulled out of school to help them rush to finish the next batch of the wallets they make. Until the wallets are finished and the father goes on a trip out-of-town to sell them, they will not have money. And to make matters worse, the entire family has been sick with fever.

Why was there tension? Because the family had a desperate financial need, and knew we had money, but didn't want to ask. They had already taken a very small loan (American equivalent $5) from us the previous month. Now they couldn't pay back that loan. They wouldn't ask us for money again under those circumstances. For our part, we don't want to increase their indebtedness to us, and are afraid we might mess up the relationship even more if we start giving them money as gifts. So we didn't offer, and they didn't ask.

These decisions tear us apart on a daily basis.

We couldn't leave it at that. So as a small gesture, we invited them over for lunch the next day. We made a huge feast (by our standards), the biggest we've ever made in our little slum home. Though our cooking left a little to be desired, some of it turned out okay, and we had a nice time together with good conversation. It didn't solve any of their issues, but they got a high-calorie meal at a time when those are few and far between, and we got to have a good time together that strengthened our friendship rather than making it more awkward.

I don't know what the long-term solution is. But for now, I felt that we were able to love them a little bit.

After our friends left, I remembered Luke 14:12-14.

He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”

Ironically, we had invited to our feast the very people who could not repay us. And I got an insight into Jesus's wisdom and love. A feast is something people share in together. It is not a soup kitchen or a food distribution. It brings the providers and the beneficiaries together, and as long as the host is gracious, can be a meal among equals even when the participants are not financially equal. It shows the trust and friendship involved in letting another person come into your home. It makes the experience about community, rather than about the provider or the beneficiary. A true feast shared together in a home adds dignity, rather than taking it away.

Jesus tells us that instead of inviting those who are already our friends or our relatives, those who are assumed to be in our own financial circles, we should invite into our homes those who cannot afford to have their own feasts. And from everything else that Jesus does and says, I have to believe this is done with the hope that those people will be added to those we consider our friends and family.

Coptic Christians Respond in Love

Al-Jazeera Media Network

Cairo, Egypt

Abdul Sami was one of 581 men crushed by military forces during a Muslim Brotherhood sit-in Thursday. His wife, Najma Bano, is now a widow. To most Egyptians, Najma is a statistic, another woman widowed by the sectarian violence that has plagued Egypt. But Najma knows that she is more than a statistic to someone. And that someone is not who she expected.

“A woman came and introduced herself as Mariam George from St. Mina's Church,” Najma shared. “She told me that the church had heard of our loss and wanted to reach out. She told me that her own son had been killed two years ago. She was also distraught after losing her only child. But she wanted to use her experience to comfort me. I couldn't believe that she would care about me in this time. It has made all the difference in the world.”

Ms. George declined to be interviewed, but gave a short statement to our reporter. “Our Lord Jesus Christ tells us, 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.' Ever since I realized that He had comforted me, I have been able to comfort others who were suffering the same loss.”

Mohammed Saad shared a similar experience. “When the government killed my son, two men came from St. Mary's Church to offer condolences. They told me that they did not agree with the violent actions of the government and that they would help me seek redress if I wished. They also told me that St. Mary's would be there for me if we needed any assistance with the burial. We are a poor family. We could not have laid our son to rest properly without their help.”

What Mo. Saad saw later that day shocked him even more.

“When I bought the newspaper and saw the headline about the churches that had been destroyed, it made me sick. These people have been so compassionate to us. Everyone in the neighborhood has known their care at one time or another. Then I read the article and saw that St. Mary's was one of the churches that had been destroyed! And yet the very next day these Christians from that church were with me, offering me help!”

At that, Mo. Saad's eyes welled up and he was unable to continue.

A large contingency of Muslims is planning a counter-protest today to oppose the actions against the churches. Mohammed Salman of the Muslim Federation for Christian Rights explained, “We understand [the Muslim Brotherhood's] distress regarding the government's actions. It is a complex political situation, and will take some time to resolve. But by attacking the Christians, they have completely marginalized themselves. Who has ever heard of a Christian hurting anyone? Who has ever heard anything but kind words from these people?  The extreme elements of the Muslim Brotherhood have now lost all support. They will not be relevant again in Egyptian politics for a long time.”

Pope Tawadros gave a public address this morning at St. Mina's Cathedral. He spoke about Jesus's parable of the Samaritan's love for the Jew, and related it to the need for Muslims and Christians to care for one another in times of crisis. The Pope was unavailable for comment afterwards. 

A church representative was asked for the Coptic Church's response to the Muslim reaction to the church attacks. “We deeply appreciate the love and solidarity we have received from the Muslim community,” said Bishop Youssef. “Unfortunately, our servants and members are greatly burdened right now in taking care of the victims and families hurt by the government actions against the Muslim Brotherhood, as well as those affected by the attacks on our own churches. In the future when their needs have been met, we hope to meet with these Egyptian brothers and thank them.”

Bishop Youssef then left in a church vehicle. He was reportedly attending an emergency council of bishops to determine the strategy for providing a protective ring of Coptic volunteers to stand against military forces during future Muslim Brotherhood sit-ins.

This is a fictional article.

Follow-ups on my other blog

My last three stories all ended up coming back to the point that what we do in America affects people everywhere else.  A friend of mine implied that he wasn't sure there was a connection, and so I decided to start posting about those connections on my theological blog.  I'll be making 16 posts - every Wednesday and Friday of Lent - and the first six will focus on the command to "love your neighbor as yourself."

You can view the first post in the series at the following link:

To Trust in God: Thailand and Bangladesh

http://totrustingod.blogspot.in/2013/03/thailand-and-bangladesh.html

You will always have the poor with you

The boss yelled for a servant. When the servant came, he touched the boss's foot with his hand before asking what he was to do. The boss feigned embarrassment and told him not to, but the servant was clearly used to acting in this way.

The university department head walked through the school. When he passed an open door, every student in the room stood, looking apprehensive. The professor didn't even notice as he continued down the hallway.

My experience of power in relationships is different here. Where I grew up, most people would be horrified at such interactions. I've heard that there are places in America with similar power dynamics (wealthy white persons with black servants in the South, or wealthy bosses using migrant labor near the borders), but I've never lived in such situations. To me, the interactions appear alien.

But then I notice another thing about the culture. In this country, the rich and the poor are next to each other. Wealthy masters interact with their poor servants every day. The nicest condos usually have a slum full of dishwashers, janitors, and maids within sight. Due to the cheapness of labor, even those working in the highest-paying occupations will have coworkers who live in poverty. Due to the incredible urban crowding, many of the nicest homes are found within a stone's throw of a slum.

I hate seeing relationships where people are not treated as having the same inherent worth. I hate the attitude of submission that the poor have learned to take on, the way in which bosses sometimes don't even bother to know their servants' names, the relics of caste that permeate the culture.

And yet I know that these are all problems borne out of actual interaction. In America we've found a different way. In America, the rich and powerful don't worry about how they should interact with poor people, because they do everything possible to make sure they never have to. Gated communities are the ideal, most wealthy people won't have a poor neighborhood within miles, and they justify attempts to keep people away who don't meet their standards by saying they "bring down property values". They choose their neighborhoods for the "good schools", often defined by how few poor children attend them. Workplaces are specialized/segregated enough that most of the wealthy never interact with anyone in an impoverished position, unless they have them as a client. And the wealthiest doctors, lawyers, engineers, bankers, businessmen, etc. will never have impoverished clients.

And, at the greatest extreme, our cheapest labor is outsourced outside of our borders to other nations altogether, so we can get the benefits of paying extremely low wages and buying extremely cheap products while avoiding the costs of having such poor workers actually living in the same country as us.

I wonder how America's powerful would act if they interacted with poor persons on a regular basis. On the surface, it would probably look better than it does here, though at first the lack of familiarity might make the interaction extremely awkward. But isn't it rather significant that no one tries?

Comedic interlude - one such painful interaction:

I read about Jesus eating with sinners and "sinful women". I see him going into the homes of lepers and tax collectors. I hear him telling stories where publicans, Samaritans, and destitute widows are the heroes. I see how much time he spent with beggars, the disabled, those plagued by demons, those rejected by the religious leaders. I see him commanding his followers to invite the poor to feasts in their own homes, instead of inviting our rich friends (Luke 14:12-14). I see his disciples carry on the message, reaching out in love to foreigners, lame beggars, Samaritans, eunuchs, and even slaves. It is clear from the description of their community (Acts 2:43-47, Acts 4:32-37), as well as their letters (Romans 15:25-27, 2 Corinthians 8:1-9:15, Galatians 2:10, 1 John 3:17, and all of James, especially 2:1-9) that the poor and the marginalized were to have an honored place in the community where they were treated with equal worth. Jesus told his disciples that the poor would always be with them. And it was clear in the New Testament, and from historical documents up through the first 300 years of the church's existence, that that was true for a long time.

So where are the poor now? And where are we? Are the poor always with us? When they are, do we treat them the same way we treat our friends? And if they are not with us, or we do not treat them as good or even better than we treat our other friends, are we truly acting as his disciples?

I am weak

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

When I first visited India in 2004, I got sick three times in 2.5 weeks.  Everywhere we went I made a mental note of every toilet I saw, knowing I might soon have to use it.  During one bad episode I wasn't able to lock the door in time and was walked in on in a humiliating moment.  Late in the trip I just stopped eating for over two days, feeling that it was easier to cope that way.

And through all that, there was a distinct point two weeks in when I realized, "Even if it was like this all the time, it'd still be worth it to be here."

In six weeks in India last year I didn't get sick once, and in an entire year in Thailand I only had one short illness.  Fool's gold.

One week into life here in the slum, I started getting sick.  It lasted a week, followed by a week of semi-recovery, and then I was blasted again last night by another malady.  I am weak.

That's not the only way I feel my weakness here.  We are babies in the language, and I am significantly worse at it than the rest of my team.  We make cultural errors.  We don't know how to get around.  We clean wrong, bathe wrong, dress wrong.  We have to rely on others to teach us everything.  We have to learn to be okay with being humble, often.

And in our weakness, we are strong.

We didn't come as teachers, as leaders, as judges.  We come to learn and to serve, and to share a story.  Those of roles of humility.  The weaker I realize I am, the better I will fit into them.

Camels and Needles

Two months ago, a good friend sent the following question over email:

I've been mulling something over lately, and wanted to hear your take on the subject.  In particular, I've been thinking on the passage from Matthew: "it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”  I've heard plenty of people trying to interpret this verse in such a way as to weaken it, but I personally feel that it should be taken literally.   While I certainly am not wealthy by American standards, according to the Global Rich List I am one of the richest men on earth, and this worries me.  My question for you is: If the people of the United States are so fantastically rich, is America a nation of the damned?

I spent five days thinking about his question before I replied.  It's a significant question.  I disagreed with a few things about how the question was posed, but there was something incredibly important at its core.

When I did reply, I tried to detail out not just my own "answer" to his question (though I didn't feel it should be answered directly), but also why I thought things were this way.  Why does Christ tell this parable, and other things like it?  Why does a similar theme appear at several points in the Bible?  Why is the world the way it is, why is America the way it is, how would the Kingdom of God look different, and what should we be doing about it?  I put a lot of myself into that reply.

My friend had a positive reaction to what I had to say.  I asked him if I could reproduce his question on my blog, and he said he'd be flattered.  But....I couldn't do it for a long time.  I couldn't figure out the right time to post it.  And so I procrastinated.  Now I'm running out of time to procrastinate, so here it is.

I'm not going to post my reply.  If you're interested, I want to send it to you.  My reply isn't the most important thing anyway, unless you really trust my "wisdom" on such a subject.  I think the most important thing is the passage and the questions it leads to for you.  We can't get around the fact that this is something Jesus meant us to take seriously.

Gandhi on How to Effectively Spread Christianity

We read this passage in the car today, and I wanted to just reproduce the whole quote verbatim:

In conversation with him one day I said, "Mahatma Gandhi, I am very anxious to see Christianity naturalized in India, so that it shall be no longer a foreign thing identified with a foreign people and a foreign government, but a part of the national life of India and contributing its power to India's uplift and redemption.  What would you suggest that we do to make that possible?"

He very gravely and thoughtfully replied: "I would suggest, first, that all of you Christians, missionaries and all, must begin to live more like Jesus Christ."

He needn't have said anything more--that was quite enough.  I knew that looking through his eyes were the three hundred millions of India, and speaking through his voice were the silent millions of the East saying to me, a representative of the West, and through me to the very West itself, "If you will come to us in the spirit of your Master, we cannot resist you." Never was there a greater challenge to the West than that, and never was it more sincerely given.

"Second," he said, "I would suggest that you must practice your religion without adulterating or toning it down."

This is just as remarkable as the first.  The greatest living non-Christian asks us not to adulterate it or tone it down, not to meet them with a emasculated gospel, but to take it in its rugged simplicity and high demand.  But what are we doing?  As someone has suggested, we are inoculating the world with a mild form of Christianity, so that it is now practically immune against the real thing.  Vast areas of the Christian world are inoculated with a mild form of Christianity, and the real thing seems strange and impossible.  As one puts it, "Our churches are made up of people who would be equally shocked to see Christianity doubted or put into practice."  I am not anxious to see India take a mild form--I want her to take the real thing.

"Third, I would suggest that you must put your emphasis upon love, for love is the center and soul of Christianity."

He did not mean love as a sentiment, but love as a working force, the one real power in a moral universe, and he wanted it applied between individuals and groups and races and nations, the one cement and salvation of the world.  With a soul so sensitive to the meaning of love no wonder there were tears in his eyes when I read him at that point the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians.

"Fourth, I would suggest that you study the non-Christian religions and culture more sympathetically in order to find the good that is in them, so that you might have a more sympathetic approach to the people."

Quite right.  We should be grateful for any truth found anywhere, knowing that it is a finger post that points to Jesus, who is the Truth.

When I mentioned these four things to the Chief Justice of the High Court in North India, the noble, sympathetic, Christian Britisher exclaimed: "He could not have put his finger on four more important things.  It took spiritual genius and insight to do that."

- E. Stanley Jones, missionary in India and friend and biographer of Mahatma Gandhi, in Christ of the Indian Road, 1925.

Basil the Great

Today the Coptic Church celebrates Basil of Caesarea, also known as St. Basil the Great, a bishop of the fourth century. Basil holds a prominent place in Orthodox history. He was the brother of Gregory of Nyssa and close friend of Gregory the Theologian, and together the three had a profound impact on the theology and direction of the church. To the average Copt, Basil is best known as the compiler of the liturgy that is prayed every Sunday in Coptic churches. To historians, Basil is also known as one of the first founders of hospitals and centralized social services to the poor, which he began in response to famine. He was a constant advocate for the poor, and spoke out against the practices of the wealthy in a manner that few preachers are willing to do today. In honor of Basil the Great, I wanted to share one extended quote from a sermon of his that I read recently, Homily 6, entitled “I Shall Tear Down My Barns” (in reference to Luke 12).  I will warn you - this sermon will sound very blunt to modern American ears, which are not used to such direct confrontation on economic issues.

“But whom do I treat unjustly,” you say, “by keeping what is my own?” Tell me, what is your own? What did you bring into this life? From where did you receive it? It is as if someone were to take the first seat in the theater, then bar everyone else from attending, so that one person alone enjoys what is offered for the benefit of all in common—this is what the rich do. They seize common goods before others have the opportunity, then claim them as their own by right of preemption. For if we all took only what was necessary to satisfy our own needs, giving the rest to those who lack, no one would be rich, no one would be poor, and no one would be in need.

Did you not come forth naked from the womb, and will you not return naked to the earth? Where then did you obtain your belongings? If you say that you acquired them by chance, then you deny God, since you neither recognize your Creator, nor are you grateful to the One who gave these things to you. But if you acknowledge that they were given to you by God, then tell me, for what purpose did you receive them? Is God unjust, when He distributes to us unequally the things that are necessary for life? Why then are you wealthy while another is poor? Why else, but so that you might receive the reward of benevolence and faithful stewardship, while the poor are honored for patient endurance in their struggles? But you, stuffing everything into the bottomless pockets for your greed, assume that you wrong no one; yet how many do you in fact dispossess?

Who are the greedy? Those who are not satisfied with what suffices for their own needs. Who are the robbers? Those who take for themselves what rightfully belongs to everyone. And you, are you not greedy? Are you not a robber? The things you received in trust as a stewardship, have you not appropriated them for yourself? Is not the person who strips another of clothing called a thief? And those who do not clothe the naked when they have the power to do so, should they not be called the same? The bread you are holding back is for the hungry, the clothes you keep put away are for the naked, the shoes that are rotting away with disuse are for those who have none, the silver you keep buried in the earth is for the needy. You are thus guilty of injustice toward as many as you might have aided, and did not.

I read this in a collection of sermons by Basil on the topics of wealth and poverty, entitled On Social Justice. Besides two sermons generally addressed to the wealthy, the book also includes sermons on the proper response to natural disaster, advice to those who loan or wish to procure loans with interest, and the twin precepts of mercy and justice.

The dangers of inappropriate section breaks

Modern Bibles often break up books in ways that were not intended by the authors. For example, here is a short story in the NIV, set off all by itself and titled "The Widow's Offering":

Luke 21

The Widow’s Offering

1 As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. 2 He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. 3 “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. 4 All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

A simple lesson about how giving sacrificially is more meaningful than giving out of a surplus, right? Well, that's how it was taught to me every time I heard it, and that is what I had thought it was about. But let's break up those sections and put the same passage in its actual context. Here is Luke 20:45 through 21:6.  I'll cheat and highlight two lines.

  While all the people were listening, Jesus said to his disciples, “Beware of the teachers of the law. They like to walk around in flowing robes and love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.” As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”
  Some of his disciples were remarking about how the temple was adorned with beautiful stones and with gifts dedicated to God. But Jesus said, “As for what you see here, the time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down.”

Do you see what I see?

That short passage is usually broken up into three separate sections. If that were correct, then the placement of the middle section between the other two makes no sense at all. But in reality, it shouldn't be broken up.  The theme of judgement flows right through.  The theme of the gifts of the people being used for a corrupt temple flows right through.   "Beware of the teachers of the law" leads to "they devour widows' houses" leads to the example of "a poor widow" who "out of her poverty put in all she had to live on" leads to the judgement of God against the temple in direct response to remarks at how it is adorned from such gifts.

About the “let him die?” video

Questioning at a recent Republican debate in Texas:






Under current health care law (instituted under Reagan), emergency rooms have to treat anyone who comes through their doors, regardless of whether they have insurance or not. If they don’t pay, the cost is passed on to those who do pay. Under the new health care law passed in 2010, everyone has to buy insurance (subsidized for those who can’t afford it) or pay a fine, thereby ensuring that everyone is fiscally responsible for their own medical care to the degree they are able, while still making sure that everyone can be treated.

In recent debates, it has become apparent that many Republicans and Libertarians, especially some of those failing under the “Tea Party” umbrella, would prefer a third option: that no one has to get any insurance ahead of time, and that anyone who doesn’t have insurance or cash when they need medical care is out of luck. In the moderator’s example from the debate, if such a person faces unpayable costs, some such participants think we should just “let him die”.

The way I understood this issue developed dramatically for me when I realized that the man in the moderator’s example isn’t the person we would “let die”. This man in the example has a high-paying job, which makes it likely that he has wealthy coworkers and wealthy friends. He likely has a network of family support and the same access to resources that the majority of privileged Americans have. If a life-or-death situation occurs, no one is going to “let him die” – someone is going to step up to help him get the care that he needs. Chances are that a change in the law will not drastically affect him.

So who will it affect?

The alien, the orphan, and the widow. The immigrant, the foster child, the single mother, and all others like them. The ones who are not only most likely to be poor, but least likely to have the social network to support them when unpayable expenses rear their head. When we say that we want everyone to pull their own weight, when we say that the government system for health care costs should be eliminated in favor of social and church networks, it is the widow, the orphan, and the alien who are going to be the hardest hit.

We need to think really, really seriously about what God has to say to us about that.

Who are the aliens, orphans, and widows in our midst?

When I hear “aliens, orphans, and widows”, my mind goes back to the Biblical era, or to non-Western nations in which orphanages are still prevalent or widows still can’t get their own source of income. But in the past two weeks I’ve realized that that historical displacement is unjustified.

In the United States, where are the orphans today? They are foster kids, those who grow up outside of the care of legally committed parents. Many of them spend their time in group homes or with unsympathetic families and are cast off at the age of 18 without any support network or stability. Some of them have moved from home to home and community to community so often that they don’t have any long-term relationships at all. What would it be like to be a young adult without a mother and father, aunts and uncles, or any long-term friends in your life? And that doesn’t even address the emotional, psychological, and educational problems that may have built up during their childhood and adolescence.

Who are the widows? They are single mothers who find all available energy taken up in playing both parental roles and having to be the family’s breadwinner besides. They lack the positive relational role a spouse could provide, the social connections the husband’s family could provide, and the social connections they could have developed in the free time they don’t have. Because of their family commitments they often lack college or high school education and can’t afford the time to get the additional work training they would need to advance at their jobs. And in the worst case scenarios, they are ostracized by churches, community organizations, or neighbors due to their marginalized status, or they self-ostracize because of the status they perceive themselves to have.

Who are the aliens? They are…the aliens, the immigrants, the refugees. They are the families who come alone to a new place because of war, persecution, or economic distress. They are the men who come alone, needing to find a job to support their families back home or fleeing situations back in their home countries that make a new land more appealing. Some of them are able to maintain long-distance relationships with friends and families in their home country; many others are in situations where such relationships are impossible. And so they have to make due in a new place, potentially with a new language, trying to navigate all the life obstacles that many of the rest of us have difficulty navigating, only they don’t have the entire framework of social support and cultural understandings that we build our lives upon.

God desires for us to direct our hearts to all those who are relationally vulnerable. A single mother doesn’t have to be an actual widow to warrent special concern in God’s eyes. Besides the foster kids, single mothers, and immigrants, there are millions of veterans, homeless persons, disabled persons, mentally ill persons, aboriginal peoples, and ethnically marginalized peoples that fit this description. Jesus is an advocate for all of us. But, as I tried to show in the last post, He is especially an advocate for those on the margins of society. We need to take this seriously, because God is calling us to advocate for the ones that the rest of society is ignoring, and if we fail to show mercy on them than God may pull back his mercy from us (Matthew 18:23-35).

The alien, the orphan, and the widow

In the Bible, God shows a particular concern for those that society is less concerned about. While there are many individual examples of such concern, the marginalized are often represented by three terms, “the alien, the orphan, and the widow”. For example:

When you reap your harvest in your field and have forgotten a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it; it shall be for the alien, for the orphan, and for the widow, in order that the LORD your God may bless you in all the work of your hands. When you beat your olive tree, you shall not go over the boughs again; it shall be for the alien, for the orphan, and for the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, you shall not go over it again; it shall be for the alien, for the orphan, and for the widow. - Deuteronomy 24:19-21

When you have finished paying all the tithe of your increase in the third year, the year of tithing, then you shall give it to the Levite, to the stranger, to the orphan and to the widow, that they may eat in your towns and be satisfied. - Deuteronomy 26:12

The LORD protects the strangers; He supports the fatherless and the widow, but He thwarts the way of the wicked. – Psalm 146:9

“Then I will draw near to you for judgment; and I will be a swift witness against the sorcerers and against the adulterers and against those who swear falsely, and against those who oppress the wage earner in his wages, the widow and the orphan, and those who turn aside the alien and do not fear Me," says the LORD of hosts. – Malachi 3:5

The special attention that must be paid to this trifecta is also mentioned in Exodus 22, Leviticus 23, Deuteronomy 10, 14, 16, 24 (again), and 27; Psalm 94, Jeremiah 7 and 22, Ezekiel 22, and Zechariah 7; and at least one member of the group is also highlighted sympathetically in Leviticus 19, Isaiah 1 and 10, Job 22 and 24; Psalm 68, Matthew 23, Luke 12, Mark 20, Acts 6, 1 Timothy 5, and James 1. Of course, there are hundreds of other passages that would also apply to these persons in the context of the poor, the needy, the marginalized, or our neighbors, but do not mention them explicitly.

The explicit mentions of these three groups is interesting to me because of the nature of their need. It’s not like “the hungry”, or “the naked”, or “the homeless”, or “the imprisoned”, who are defined by what they lack physically (food, clothing, shelter, or freedom). Instead, these groups are named because of a relational vulnerability, which increases their likelihood to lack in other things as well. Because of this vulnerability, God is especially concerned with these groups, and He judges his people when they fail to show such concern as well.

Does this mean that God likes orphans, aliens, and widows more than the rest of us? I don’t believe so – I don’t think God is biased in that way, and I think He loves all of us intensely. But I heard a good analogy last week that put things into perspective for me.

Imagine that you have three children – ages 7, 8, and 9. One day, the 7-year-old comes home with a broken nose, and you find out that she was beaten up by bullies at school. What would you do if you found out that such bullying had been happening every week, and that no one at the school had been doing anything about it? Would you then go to the school to advocate on that child’s behalf? Would you go to much greater lengths than normal to make sure that child was safe? Would you tell your other two children that they needed to be on the lookout to stand up for their little sister and protect her from those who were hurting her?

All that extra effort and attention doesn’t mean that you love your 7-year-old more. You just recognize that she is getting hurt more than the others, and that she needs special concern due to her situation. Because the rest of the world has treated your 7-year-old with less concern, you treat her more concern, and you call on your other children to give her special concern as well. If they refuse to make the extra effort for her, you will have very choice words for them.

God is the same way.

It will not be so among you

One day back when I taught in jail, I mentioned that I was under 6’1”. The men in the class interrupted the story with disbelief. “Six foot one? No way. You’re way taller than that!” I asked them how tall they thought I was, and they thought it was around 6’4”. One student, a young man of about my age, said, “I’m six foot three, and you’re definitely taller than me.”

I figured that could settle it, so I had the student come up and stand next to me. Even though I had the advantage of shoes (inmates in jail are effectively shoeless), he clearly stretched out a couple inches above me. Everyone was surprised, and I took it as a teachable moment about power dynamics and how they change perception.


My position in the classroom gave me an outsized appearance of power, an effect so strong that it altered the physical impression of how big I was. Part of this effect has a physical source – the fact that I can wear shoes and have “outside” clothing makes me stand out over the slipper-wearing, uniformly-dressed inmates. (Read about the famous Stanford Prison Experiment for more insights on the effect of this power dynamic.) But a lot of it is just psychological. I had the power. I was the authority. They were the inmates. They couldn’t even go to the restroom without asking, and at any moment I could kick them out of school permanently or even get them sent to solitary confinement with just one word. My position of power was so great in their eyes that it manifested itself in an exaggeration of my physical stature.

I need to remember this story because the same dynamic occurs in less obvious ways in many other relationships. When we go out to do service, how often do we end up in a position of power over the ones we are there to serve? Are we always in a position to give materially, making others feel ashamed to always be the ones to receive? Are we always teaching, therefore acting as the intellectual and spiritual superiors, and not putting ourselves in a position to be taught? Do we ever find ourselves using our age, our years of experience, our education, our leadership position, our credentials, our fluency in English, or even our race or nationality as a bludgeon to help us assert our authority in a situation? Or do we subconsciously see ourselves as better than another based on one of those things, potentially allowing it to manifest itself in subtle ways in our actions?

Jesus taught his disciples not to be like that. He taught them that it was good to wash another’s feet, and good to allow your feet to be washed. He taught them that it was essential to give aid to the poor wandering messengers of God’s truth, and commanded them be those poor wandering messengers who would rely on the aid of others as well. He taught them to be served as guests in the homes of “sinners”, to give feasts to those who couldn't reciprocate, to associate side-by-side with women who prostitute and men with leprosy, and to make even the littlest children the focus of their full attention. He taught them to throw away the way the world uses power, and to understand a whole new system of the upside-down Kingdom power.

Lord, I want to be a servant among the poor, not just to the poor. Teach me to consider all others better than myself and to submit to those who I would be reluctant to trust. Help me to learn how much you have to teach me through the words and lives of those who don’t have the world’s authority, but have your blessing. Give me true humility in all my relationships. And may all those who interact with me find more dignity and greater self-image after they see me than they did before.


“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave;” Matthew 20:25-27, Mark 10:42-44

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.” – Philippians 2:3

“The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” Matthew 23:11-12 (see also Mark 9:35, 10:31, Matthew 19:30, 23:11-12, Luke 13:30, 14:11)

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” Matthew 5:5

“Woe to you Pharisees! For you love to have the seat of honor in the synagogues and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces.” Luke 11:44

"So he said to them, "You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of others; but God knows your hearts; for what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God." Luke 16:15

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 18:5 (see also Mark 9:37, 10:14, Luke 9:48, 18:7, Matthew 18:6)

“So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” John 13:14-15

“Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.” 1 Corinthians 1:26-29 (see also 3:18-23)

“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” Ephesians 5:21

“Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are.” Romans 12:16

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Matthew 16:24, Mark 8:34, Luke 9:23

Practical thoughts on Luke 14:12-14

In the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 14, Jesus says to a dinner host,

When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid.  But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you.  You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.

This teaching has been in my mind a lot the past 8-9 years.  At the biggest party I ever threw, I had this verse stuck in my head as I planned.  I put effort into trying to fulfill it as well as I could at the time.  In the end I was disappointed with how it turned out, but I just figured, “well, at least I tried”.  Recently I was thinking again about that effort, and I realized that there were a number of key reasons that my attempts did not go the way I wished them to.

• I invited about 10 rich people for every poor person.  That meant that the rich people were more likely to feel comfortable coming to the event than the poor people, even if all the poor people came.  
• I held the event in a rich neighborhood, in a building built by rich people for rich people, in a place many of the rich people I know had spent much time.  The poor people I knew had to travel to get there, to be in a place they had never been, in a neighborhood they weren’t comfortable in, in a building they had no connection to.  And really, I expected that to work?  It’s no surprise that only 2 of the 20-something poorer people I invited actually came.
• Why did I invite 10 times as many rich people and hold the event in a rich church in a rich neighborhood?  Because most of my family members are relatively rich, and because most of my closest friends are relatively rich.  The proportion of rich people to poor people there was right in line with the amount of emotional and relational energy I was investing in the lives of the rich as opposed to the lives of the poor.  The fact that I was living in south-central Los Angeles and working full time at Catholic Charities at the time doesn’t let me off the hook, it only indicts me further for my lack of participation in God’s idea of community.

This gives me some food for thought for the next time I want to live out this verse.  But the most important lesson is this – if I am truly to follow Christ and his teachings, then applying verses like this is a process that starts right now, in the decisions I make in my everyday relationships and choices of community.  Yes, I need to do my best to follow the principle when I’m throwing that party, but if I’m not developing relationships and community with the poor now, then by the time the party comes around it will get pretty difficult.

Be needy, at least some of the time

Last week a discussion leader asked us to respond to the idea that “God’s heart is found in the poor”.  This question led me down a surprising path.  As I reflected on the Sermon on the Mount, the Good Samaritan, and Matthew 25, it felt clear that we can see Christ reflected in the needy, and that we can grow closer to God with our interactions with the poor.  So that caused me to think, “Am I really being of the greatest service to others if I am never in need, if I am never poor?”  To put it another way, in true Christian community shouldn’t I also at times be the person being served, the person in need who others can have the chance to see Christ through?  Jesus made that clear to his disciples when He washed their feet.  We tend to think of that as an example of how even the great must serve, but there’s an equally important lesson that is drawn out by Peter's initial refusal – we must all be willing to be served as well.  And we can't be truly served if we've already made ourselves completely self-sufficient.  If we have everything we think we need, then can others serve us on equal terms, or are we just play-acting the roles?

The passage that really drives home this question for me is when Jesus gives his disciples instructions for spreading the gospel.  They can’t take supplies.  They can’t take provisions.  They can’t even pay their own board.  They have to go out with nothing but the sandals on their feet and accept the hospitality of the communities they enter in order to do their work of preaching.  They must rely on the service of others, because they have nothing else to turn to – they have made themselves poor for Christ.  Are we willing to go to that same extent, not only to practice our willingness to trust God, but in order to allow others to bless us by letting them serve us in real need?

Choices

I originally wrote a 1300 word post about the complexities of the idea of “choice” with women involved in the sex industry.  It mentioned kidnapping, physical force, rape, teenagers who are sold by their parents, arraigned marriage, women whose husbands abandon them, lack of education, lack of familial support, having to feed your children, homelessness, awareness of options, economic barriers, untreated trauma resulting from sexual abuse, debt bondage, escape fantasies, materialistic culture, societal values, social stigma, and several other topics.  But it was too long and buried the main point I wanted to make.  Thankfully, Nicolas Kristof wrote a piece yesterday that addressed many of my ultimate concerns (that’s the second time in a week we’ve said almost the same thing), so read his better-written piece on the ignored girls of human trafficking instead.  Just remember that girls like the ones he describes aren’t only in America, but in countries where the more “obvious” forms of trafficking exist as well.  But all that wasn’t the main point of my post anyway.

This was the main point:  We often judge the people who need help, try to figure out whether their situation was their own fault or not (he's a drug addict, she's mentally ill, he had all the chances in the world, she was asking for it, plenty of other people in his situation turned out fine, etc.) and then spread out our compassion and love accordingly, with little going to those people who we judge "deserve" their lot.  However our judgments of people’s motivations and perceived degree of choice in their situation affect our natural willingness to love them and help them out, we must remember that Jesus did not work like that.


In the gospels we read the stories of forgiveness for the woman caught in adultery, Zacchaeus the tax collector, the crying woman, the publican who beat his chest before God, the thief on the cross, the Samaritan who was living with a man who was not her husband, and the paralytic whose friends lowered him through the roof.  Jesus never asks how they got in their situation.  Jesus doesn’t berate them for creating their own mess.  Jesus never passes up a needy sinner on the road in order to reach out to someone whose desperate situation may have been less “their fault”.  What Jesus does is reach out with love to every lost person he sees, show his compassion to every desperate person before him, and teach his disciples to do the same.  We don’t know the back stories to why the violent man in the caves became demon-possessed or why the beggar Lazarus had never found employment, and the gospels are certainly silent as to why Mary Magdalene had been involved with prostitution (if that tradition is indeed accurate).  And if Jesus never asked those questions, do we need to ask them?  If Jesus never judged the needy based on their “culpability” for their situation, need we judge them?

 

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t do what we can to understand why so many people end up in situations of oppression and address the root causes on a societal scale.  But I am saying that we need to do whatever we can to show Christ’s love to those who are hurting, without the judgmental attitude that they deserve their lot.  Should it matter to me why the boy in front of me started begging, stealing, selling his body for sex?  I know that it shouldn’t.  Do I need to set up a scale to determine who is worthy of Christ’s love and who is not?  I know that I cannot.  What I can try is to love them now, show my care for them as a fellow child of God, and pray that their future chances are better than the ones they’ve had to choose between so far.