Someone tried to convince me today that I don't understand the poor. "You don't get it. These are not sweet single mothers who just need a bit of help. Most are drug addicts who beat their children and take advantage of the welfare system."
Ignorance is so cute. And how sweet of her to try and educate me.
This is why we need Dorothy Day to be recognized as a Saint. She was a member of the Communist Party. She was an anarchist and a suffragette. She was jailed at least 11 times and encouraged the men around her to resist their draft notices. She refused to pay her taxes or vote in an election. She drank and smoked too much and slept around. She had an abortion long before it was legal to do so.
Even after her conversion, the Church was irked by the work she was doing and they butted heads constantly. Dorothy did not glamorize her work with the poor. Her work was physically demanding and there was very little respite for her and her daughter. She hated the mental illness and the stench. She found them difficult to stand and craved silence.
She understood the poor.
She understood poverty.
She understood the will of God.
We don't serve the poor while wearing rose colored glasses. We don't serve them because we feel sorry for them or because they have passed some test that proves their worthiness of charity. We serve them because it is a command from God. We serve them because we are all undeserving of the blessings of this world. And whether our money and needs are met through our own hard work or if they come as a result of government assistance or generous charity, ultimately all of our blessings come from God.
Those of us who are blessed by God with health that enables us to work, return that blessing to God by our obedience in caring for others.
So we serve, without judgment.
We serve the addict.
We serve the criminals.
We serve the victims.
We serve the violent.
We serve the sick.
We serve the crazy.
We serve the liars.
We serve the manipulators.
We serve the faith-less.
And we thank God for the blessings we receive through this service and pray for His grace and mercy.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Monday, November 19, 2012
These Days Will Come.
This was one of those weekends that I absolutely dread. My mind was being marinated with covetous thoughts of money and wealth. Thank God these days are few and far between but this weekend was rough.
Because the poverty I enjoy is a choice on my part. I almost always have access to money or more money if I need it. But some pretty large tuition payments are due. They are looming and seem impossible and it is causing insomnia and stomach aches. Christmas will be tiny this year and that is embarrassing. My children are not given every thing they want and a few things they probably should have but Christmas has always been a catch up day for us. The one day we spoil them a little bit. They each get three presents (Because the Baby Jesus got 3 :)) But with four kids, that is still 12 presents plus stockings. We try to go to the movies because we rarely do that. Christmas in our house is all about the birth of Christ, but within that spirit of abstract joy we try to provide some moments of concrete joy to impress upon the fact that THIS day IS different. My children are so amazing at not complaining the other 364 days of the year.
So all these things were heavy on my heart over the weekend. The stores are all decked out and playing music, and I am conflicted as to how excited I should get because I want to prepare my family for the ity-bity tiny Christmas they are about to suffer through. The older kids expressed their willingness to go without gifts so the younger ones can have more. I feel terrible and I went to bed fantasizing about a long lost wealthy uncle or tripping over a large box of cash that someone left behind but no longer needs. My home looked smaller than I remembered. It is small but this weekend the size seemed inadequate. I was short-tempered and frustrated with everyone. I began to question everything I believe in and hoped that at the end of my life God is not actually wanting to see my checking account summary. And jealously reared its ugly head. I was jealous of my friends. Of their homes and cars and the clothes their children wear. It is a horrible place to be.
These days come. And they will go. And somehow everything will be okay one way or the other. But as we go down this road of sacrificing and giving, it is important to remember that these days will come. It is a certainty. And they will go.
Because the poverty I enjoy is a choice on my part. I almost always have access to money or more money if I need it. But some pretty large tuition payments are due. They are looming and seem impossible and it is causing insomnia and stomach aches. Christmas will be tiny this year and that is embarrassing. My children are not given every thing they want and a few things they probably should have but Christmas has always been a catch up day for us. The one day we spoil them a little bit. They each get three presents (Because the Baby Jesus got 3 :)) But with four kids, that is still 12 presents plus stockings. We try to go to the movies because we rarely do that. Christmas in our house is all about the birth of Christ, but within that spirit of abstract joy we try to provide some moments of concrete joy to impress upon the fact that THIS day IS different. My children are so amazing at not complaining the other 364 days of the year.
So all these things were heavy on my heart over the weekend. The stores are all decked out and playing music, and I am conflicted as to how excited I should get because I want to prepare my family for the ity-bity tiny Christmas they are about to suffer through. The older kids expressed their willingness to go without gifts so the younger ones can have more. I feel terrible and I went to bed fantasizing about a long lost wealthy uncle or tripping over a large box of cash that someone left behind but no longer needs. My home looked smaller than I remembered. It is small but this weekend the size seemed inadequate. I was short-tempered and frustrated with everyone. I began to question everything I believe in and hoped that at the end of my life God is not actually wanting to see my checking account summary. And jealously reared its ugly head. I was jealous of my friends. Of their homes and cars and the clothes their children wear. It is a horrible place to be.
These days come. And they will go. And somehow everything will be okay one way or the other. But as we go down this road of sacrificing and giving, it is important to remember that these days will come. It is a certainty. And they will go.
Monday, October 1, 2012
How it feels to be screwed over.
It has been a rough couple weeks. Rough on my family, our faith, our patience and probably my blood pressure. The last two weeks we have been living in a Twilight Zone kind of reality, where everyone seems to be abiding by a different set of rules than what appears obvious to me.
It may be the only time in my life when I have gotten the short stick of justice. I have been appealing to the powers that be to do the right thing; to stand up for and protect the innocent. I have begged them to obey God, to follow the law and their own policy.
And for two weeks I have watched those in power succumb to the lure of money and the fear of politics. I have watched the victims be further victimized and humiliated. I am angry. I want to cry but the tears won't come. I want to scream and fight but those who are in control could not conceivably care any less about the anger and pain this has caused my family. I am sick to my stomach as I watch my church making bad choices. I am constantly reminding myself that although Christ created His church, He is more than, bigger than, better than His church.
I am powerless.
I have never really been powerless before. It is new to me. I am poor because I choose to be. I have experienced misunderstandings with friends and my bank has made mistakes in my checking account...but this is altogether different. It is inexplicable to my soul and my family WHY people in power choose to do the wrong thing. WHY they ignore those who suffer. WHY they bow to money and politics instead of justice and Christ.
I told my children to remember that some people live this way everyday of their lives. For some, injustice and oppression defines their existence. It brings us very little comfort in our own unjust situation but we are grateful to God for this understanding and the empathy it will bring as we serve others.
It may be the only time in my life when I have gotten the short stick of justice. I have been appealing to the powers that be to do the right thing; to stand up for and protect the innocent. I have begged them to obey God, to follow the law and their own policy.
And for two weeks I have watched those in power succumb to the lure of money and the fear of politics. I have watched the victims be further victimized and humiliated. I am angry. I want to cry but the tears won't come. I want to scream and fight but those who are in control could not conceivably care any less about the anger and pain this has caused my family. I am sick to my stomach as I watch my church making bad choices. I am constantly reminding myself that although Christ created His church, He is more than, bigger than, better than His church.
I am powerless.
I have never really been powerless before. It is new to me. I am poor because I choose to be. I have experienced misunderstandings with friends and my bank has made mistakes in my checking account...but this is altogether different. It is inexplicable to my soul and my family WHY people in power choose to do the wrong thing. WHY they ignore those who suffer. WHY they bow to money and politics instead of justice and Christ.
I told my children to remember that some people live this way everyday of their lives. For some, injustice and oppression defines their existence. It brings us very little comfort in our own unjust situation but we are grateful to God for this understanding and the empathy it will bring as we serve others.
Monday, September 24, 2012
It's None Of My Business
My poor children have had a rough week. Three of the four of them. It was a week of jumping into the middle of situations to which they previously had only been skirting the edges. This morning my daughter, exhausted and embarressed from the fall-out, exclaimed that she should have kept her mouth shut because it was none of her business.
None of her business. None of my business. None of our business.
Such a sad, slippery slope.
We live in this society, don't we? Walk with your head down, keep to yourself, MYOB.
17 years ago, I accidentally walked into a room where a mother was beating her daughter with a hanger. I quiety muttered an apology and then turned and shut the door. Later, around the same time, I saw an orphaned child crying on the street. He grapped my hand and showed me a horribly infected burn running down the front of his arm. I muttered again and walked away. For way too long a time I drove by every homeless person I saw, ignored every pain I encountered and turned my t.v. up every time I heard my neighbor being beaten by her boyfriend.
None of these were any of my business but they are my sins. And someday I will have to answer for them and for the countless other times I have done wrong and failed to do good.
None of her business. None of my business. None of our business.
Such a sad, slippery slope.
We live in this society, don't we? Walk with your head down, keep to yourself, MYOB.
17 years ago, I accidentally walked into a room where a mother was beating her daughter with a hanger. I quiety muttered an apology and then turned and shut the door. Later, around the same time, I saw an orphaned child crying on the street. He grapped my hand and showed me a horribly infected burn running down the front of his arm. I muttered again and walked away. For way too long a time I drove by every homeless person I saw, ignored every pain I encountered and turned my t.v. up every time I heard my neighbor being beaten by her boyfriend.
None of these were any of my business but they are my sins. And someday I will have to answer for them and for the countless other times I have done wrong and failed to do good.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Poverty Hide and Go Seek
A facebook comment irked me a couple days ago from someone who said "there is no poverty in the United States." Another friend suggested "If you have money for cigarettes and tatoos you do not need welfare or food stamps."
Of course neither of these are accurate statements. They are ridiculous and easily dismissed when someone is willing to participate in a conversation The truth is Poverty has changed in the United States.
The breadlines and homeless families we remember seeing on grainy black and white photos which depicted the worst of the Great Depression are no longer common. The homeless we see on the street now are most likely mentally ill, addicts, probably a combination of both.
Where did everyone else go?
They moved. The government got tired of seeing families suffer, taxes were collected and programs created. The breadlines and soup kitchens moved from the street to the checkout line in Walmart. The homeless families moved from the back alleys to government housing. Those who were dying in the streets of America are now able to die in emergency rooms and cannot be turned away.
They moved but they are not gone.
The food stamp EBT card, which is making banks rich, is making families fat and unhealthy. Government housing is substandard, dangerous and is surrounded by gates and police. It is a soul-crushing place to live and raise your family. Education is little more than a lottery ticket. Medicaid cares for some of the poor but never the poorest of the poor. The consequences of poverty have shifted from physical harm to mental detriment. The suffering is hidden away behind a poorly locked door. Poverty no longer evokes our sympathy. Christ never saw poverty as a consequence for behavior. He never condemed the poor for being so. He never admonished the beggers. But we do.
Government programs are not the answer to eradicating poverty. Government programs greatest accomplishment has been to plant a seed of jealousy, justify our hate and permit our spit on those who suffer the most in our country.
I am grateful that my tax dollars go towards the *massive* 13% of our national budget to safety net programs (http://www.cbpp.org/cms/index.cfm?fa=view&id=1258). I am thankful my government got tired of seeing hungry children in the street and babies dying of curable diseases. Thank God for these safety nets. However the unintended consequence of hiding poverty away from public view is that we created an illusion that poverty no longer exists in the United States.
Poverty is much more than a financial situation.
Poverty is abuse. Poverty is addiction. Poverty is madness. Poverty is depression. Poverty asks more of us than just a handout. It asks us to educate ourselves. It asks us to befriend and become uncomfortably involved in the lives of those we serve. It challenges us to find a higher level compassion, to see the poor as Christ...pure and blameless.
Of course neither of these are accurate statements. They are ridiculous and easily dismissed when someone is willing to participate in a conversation The truth is Poverty has changed in the United States.
The breadlines and homeless families we remember seeing on grainy black and white photos which depicted the worst of the Great Depression are no longer common. The homeless we see on the street now are most likely mentally ill, addicts, probably a combination of both.
Where did everyone else go?
They moved. The government got tired of seeing families suffer, taxes were collected and programs created. The breadlines and soup kitchens moved from the street to the checkout line in Walmart. The homeless families moved from the back alleys to government housing. Those who were dying in the streets of America are now able to die in emergency rooms and cannot be turned away.
They moved but they are not gone.
The food stamp EBT card, which is making banks rich, is making families fat and unhealthy. Government housing is substandard, dangerous and is surrounded by gates and police. It is a soul-crushing place to live and raise your family. Education is little more than a lottery ticket. Medicaid cares for some of the poor but never the poorest of the poor. The consequences of poverty have shifted from physical harm to mental detriment. The suffering is hidden away behind a poorly locked door. Poverty no longer evokes our sympathy. Christ never saw poverty as a consequence for behavior. He never condemed the poor for being so. He never admonished the beggers. But we do.
Government programs are not the answer to eradicating poverty. Government programs greatest accomplishment has been to plant a seed of jealousy, justify our hate and permit our spit on those who suffer the most in our country.
I am grateful that my tax dollars go towards the *massive* 13% of our national budget to safety net programs (http://www.cbpp.org/cms/index.cfm?fa=view&id=1258). I am thankful my government got tired of seeing hungry children in the street and babies dying of curable diseases. Thank God for these safety nets. However the unintended consequence of hiding poverty away from public view is that we created an illusion that poverty no longer exists in the United States.
Poverty is much more than a financial situation.
Poverty is abuse. Poverty is addiction. Poverty is madness. Poverty is depression. Poverty asks more of us than just a handout. It asks us to educate ourselves. It asks us to befriend and become uncomfortably involved in the lives of those we serve. It challenges us to find a higher level compassion, to see the poor as Christ...pure and blameless.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Forgetting Water Bottles- By Charles Beard
Several homeless men take turns panhandling at the bottom of the exit ramp I take on the way to work. There is a different person there each day. As I get off the highway, someone is almost always standing there carrying a sign. The signs say things like “anything helps” or “rather beg than steal” or even “God bless.” If there is a line of cars waiting at the light at the bottom of the ramp, he (always a he) walks up and down the line, hoping for some luck.
I’ve never bought the idea that we shouldn’t give homeless persons cash because they may use it for booze. They might and that’s not good (though if I were homeless I’d certainly drink!), but I figure my obligation as a Christian is to be generous. If someone abuses my generosity, that’s not my responsibility. Christ never said, “Give responsibly.” He said, “Freely have you received, freely give” (Matt. 10:8). So if I’m carrying cash, I usually give something to panhandlers.
The problem is that I hardly ever carry cash. The last time I gave to one of the men at the bottom of the ramp, I had to give him quarters out of my toll road change jar. I felt the need to apologize to the gentleman for the inconvenience.
Recently I thought instead of giving cash, I can make a point of taking a bottle of water with me to work and hand it to the person at the bottom of the ramp. The Beard household is lousy with plastic bottles (since we recycle…eventually). It wouldn’t be any problem at all to grab a bottle, fill it with water, and take it with me.
I have yet to actually do this. It’s not that I don’t have time; I’ve been teaching mostly at night and my days are my own to write or to read. The problem is I just clean forget and don’t think about it until I’m at the bottom of the ramp, trying to give the homeless man dignity by saying hello without making him think I have anything for him.
I’m not very familiar with the Catholic Worker movement, and the Catholic Worker House here in Tulsa is more like a couple of families who try to live the lifestyle while staying in touch online. But I think that the Catholic Worker’s commitment to voluntary poverty is important because it forces us to remember less fortunate persons. I don’t mean this in the trite prayer-before-Thanksgiving way, but I mean it helps us to physically remember them. The hunger that we choose to feel is like a rubber band around our wrist telling us there was something we have to do.
When we don’t feel that hunger, we forget.
It never occurred to me to give out water bottles until the air conditioner in my car went on the fritz and started working intermittently. It was only then that I saw the men and thought, “Boy, they must be hot out there!” (Maybe if my air conditioner broke all the way I’d actually remember the bottles!) Voluntary suffering breeds empathy with involuntary suffering, and empathy breeds action.
My challenge for the next week is to utilize God’s grace to spur that action.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Non-Profit is Big Business
$95,129.00
$71,749.00
$75,000.00
$235,780.00
$81,113.00
These are the 2010 reported incomes of the directors of the 5 most popular non-profit/charities located in Tulsa. They are all supported with a combination of Federal, State and Private dollars. They all say they serve the most vulnerable and impoverished families of our community. They serve the hungry and the homeless. They serve the physically sick and mentally ill. They provide turkeys at Christmas and spend a lot of their time fundraising and grant writing.
Fundraising. The mouse wheel that began to run on when we first discovered that charity could be a job. Social workers, receptionists and janitors were hired and CEO's were appointed. Overhead was developed and attention slowly moved away from the window. Now the charities have salaried employees that they are responsible for. The survival of the mission is critical, not simply to care for those on the street but to assure the continued employment of those inside the buildings.
So in order to ration the funds, charities are forced to limit the services they provide. Now intakes and qualifications are required and those waiting in line are no longer brothers and sisters in Christ, they are clients. Your family can receive assistance once a month or twice a year but when this generosity is not sufficient to ease your family's pain you are blamed. Then families are forced to "charity-chase" from one agency to the next and charities can scowl at them for behaving like this.
Non-biblical references are quoted like "God helps those who help themselves" to justify the charities behavior and paychecks. Charities give our community permission to ignore their neighbor or refer them to an agency. The complacent faithful allow Charities rob us, every single day, of the opportunity to personally serve the living Christ.
Charities don't trust in God to provide, they trust in our government to grant and bestow.
$71,749.00
$75,000.00
$235,780.00
$81,113.00
These are the 2010 reported incomes of the directors of the 5 most popular non-profit/charities located in Tulsa. They are all supported with a combination of Federal, State and Private dollars. They all say they serve the most vulnerable and impoverished families of our community. They serve the hungry and the homeless. They serve the physically sick and mentally ill. They provide turkeys at Christmas and spend a lot of their time fundraising and grant writing.
Fundraising. The mouse wheel that began to run on when we first discovered that charity could be a job. Social workers, receptionists and janitors were hired and CEO's were appointed. Overhead was developed and attention slowly moved away from the window. Now the charities have salaried employees that they are responsible for. The survival of the mission is critical, not simply to care for those on the street but to assure the continued employment of those inside the buildings.
So in order to ration the funds, charities are forced to limit the services they provide. Now intakes and qualifications are required and those waiting in line are no longer brothers and sisters in Christ, they are clients. Your family can receive assistance once a month or twice a year but when this generosity is not sufficient to ease your family's pain you are blamed. Then families are forced to "charity-chase" from one agency to the next and charities can scowl at them for behaving like this.
Non-biblical references are quoted like "God helps those who help themselves" to justify the charities behavior and paychecks. Charities give our community permission to ignore their neighbor or refer them to an agency. The complacent faithful allow Charities rob us, every single day, of the opportunity to personally serve the living Christ.
Charities don't trust in God to provide, they trust in our government to grant and bestow.
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