Still thinking about beggars...

That Good Samaritan story from a week or so ago still has me thinking. What really is the best way to respond to beggars? Am I willing to turn away some genuine cases, just because I know that not all cases are genuine? I can't know what the percentage is - call it 30% - am I willing to give a little to the non-genuine ones in order to do good a minority of the time?

What about the others? It must take a pretty broken-down person to sit behind a sign asking others for money, even if you do have a place to sleep and food to eat. What about the story of the manager who said "I'm too proud to beg" - I think I would have to sink a long way to take that path myself. How needy does someone have to be in order to be "genuine" anyway? What about those who are "undeserving"? Is their need any less because of that? If they've spent their last dollars on cigarettes or drugs, that doesn't make them any less likely to starve without food!

I had a thought - what about vouchers? Coles certainly has them, and a wide range of items are available from Coles, not just food. Maybe that would be a better way of giving, without helping someone with a drug habit. Seeing a beggar throw away food changed the way I think about this whole issue - obviously food isn't the only need, maybe not even the main one. (It also made me quite cynical for a while, but I don't think this the attitude that Jesus would want me to have. He said to give to everyone who asks, so I just need to find a practical way of carrying that out. Coles is available pretty much everywhere, including in the city, so maybe that would work?

Passing the peace

Today at church we did something I haven't done in a long time, and I was so touched by the symbolism of it which I had never really appreciated before. We "passed the peace" shaking hands and wishing other members of the congregation well, saying "The peace of the Lord be with you." I had never really thought about those words before, but the peace of the Lord is a profound wish for someone. I really wish Dean understood it.

Christians and work

Once again it has come to my attention at work that the thing we Christians are famous for, is not being willing to work Sundays. This is our defining feature, this is what we are known for? There is something seriously wrong here.

I remember a while ago St Hil's was talking about becoming a church which was known for its ability to pray. The Quakers were famous for keeping their word without oaths, promises or contracts (or was it the Shakers?). The Amish were famous for their dedication to living God's way as they understood it. We are famous for - wait for it - refusing to help out when asked. :(

I am reluctant to take this up with the person concerned, partly because I feel it will be viewed as whinging on my part, but also because I know it will look self-interested and interfering. If she refuses to work extra days, who has to do them? So I am hardly disinterested in this conversation. And, yet, as an "older" Christian, I wonder, do I have a duty to mention something? It sounds so condescending, and I don't think she'll listen, but does that absolve me of the duty to try? Or is it none of my business anyway? As long as I can say "no" when she asks me to work all her Sundays, should I even try to stop her asking others? So far I have not, but I still feel a vague sense that I should...

Hubris

It has taken me over five years to truly admit that I am a sinful person. I always knew I was a falling-short-of-the-goal and no-one-is-perfect sinner - I didn't have a problem admitting that, but I never realized before that I am a wilfully-going-my-own-way-and-ignoring-God kind of sinner. The serving-two-masters kind, who knows best what is best her own life, regardless of what God says is best. The rebellious-heart, hardened-spirit kind of sinner - the real kind.

CS Lewis wrote that:

"The first step is realizing that you are proud. If you don't think you are proud, then you are very proud indeed."

Five and a half (probably closer to six and half) years on, I realized what he meant. I knew what I wanted for my own life, and I decided to get it, even knowing that God didn't want me to make this choice. I have deluded myself for years, saying that I was a young Christian then, that I had lots of conflicting advice, that I didn't know what the Bible meant or how to read it. Those things may all be more or less true, but the bottom line is that I knew God didn't want me to choose this life for myself, and I did it anyway.

Why? Out of fear, I suppose. Fear of missing out, of letting go of something good. Lack of trust that God would provide something better. Lack of trust that obedience is the best way. Lack of trust in God, and fear that the world could offer something better that God didn't want me to have. So, I thought I could have it both ways - choose for myself and repent afterwards. Go my own way, and hope that God would make it right later. Rebel in the sure knowledge of forgiveness and reconciliation. I think this is what it called "trampling on God's grace" or "cheap grace". I had never applied those words to myself before.

So now what? Here I am, an acknowledged sinner, who needs forgiveness. Nothing has really changed, it's just that I'm more aware of it. I want to repent, and I can understand the grief that tears its clothes and pours ashes on its head. I want to do penance - fasting or suffering somehow to show God my sincerity. And yet, would any of those things help? I don't think so. I can't earn forgiveness (much as I would like to) and I can't change the past. I live with the consequences of my sin daily, and God is here too. He suffers for my bad choices with me - how unfair is that? And yet a great comfort, for who else is there to turn to? Broken down, with no pride left, I come back empty handed and say "You were right, I was wrong. Forgive me. Help me. Only You can make it right." And so I pray, and wait...

The strange incident of the fish in the night-time

A few weeks ago, one of the nurses left a message on my windshield, asking where I had bought my Christian “fish” symbol on the back of my car. (I bought it for totally the wrong reasons, primarily defiance and because I could, since I knew Dean would not approve – hardly an auspicious beginning.) So I bought her one from the same shop in the city, and took it to work and gave it to her. No big deal, or so I thought. She seemed very shy about letting anyone know what it was. (I thought it was just me that got embarrassed about being too “out there” with my faith.) So we managed the whole exchange without ever mentioning what it was that we were talking about, or showing it to anyone.

I went home that night rather sad – I think we missed an opportunity to show people that Christians are around, are normal people, are part of the workplace. We both wear crosses, but I don’t know if anyone really notices. The next morning I went to work resolved to do better.

One of the nurses from the night before said to me “So what was it that you gave Lorrie last night? She never showed us?” And my chance was before me – I tried not to blow it, not to sound overly eager, nor too self-conscious, just natural as if this were a normal part of life. I said “Oh it was a bumper sticker of a fish I got for Lorrie from a Christian bookshop in the city.” (Not bad, I thought.) Then the nurse got that expression on her face which reminds me of why I don’t generally do this kind of witnessing. She looked like I had mentioned something indecent in public, but was too polite to bring this to my attention. She quickly excused herself and walked off, leaving me thinking “Was I right? Was my judgement better last night, when neither of us said anything? And yet, why should Christianity be the one thing we can’t admit to in public?

The Good Samaritan

On Sunday we did this parable again - I always find it hard to think about the Good Samaritan. I guess I don't really understand the point of it - it seems to set such an unreasonable standard. There is no way I can even meet the needs of those of my immediate acquaintance and family, let alone beggars and strangers on the street!

We had a lot of discussion about beggars, but didn't really come to any conclusions. I think this is an issue that everyone struggles with - is it about money? Are they genuine? Are they drug users? Should we give food? Is that patronizing? What about homelessness? What about mental health? What about offering a job instead? What about pregnant women?

I still don't know what to think about it all, but I will admit to becoming more cynical about this issue. Every time I walk into the city, I am approached for money (I obviously look like a soft touch). I used to give something to everyone, but then I have seen them spending it on (to my mind) frivolous things. Then for a while I gave food, but then I saw some of them taking it and throwing it away, and I have heard that food is often not the main issue anyway.

So should I go back to giving money? What about drugs and alcoholism? What about the guy in the park or the one who lives in the bus stop across the street? He is clearly homeless, but spends all his money on booze (usually white wine) - do I want to support that? I don't know - somehow it seems like an unsatisfactory cop-out to give them a $2 coin and forget about it, but I really don't know what else to do?

Mum? Are you there?

Got the fright of my life yesterday, when I received an email marked "Mom" from my blog. Then I realized that my mother really could be reading my blog (though in fact as far as I know she doesn't). I don't know why I felt so weird about that. My Mum knows me really well, and we have (nearly) always got along well. Makes me realize all over again that you never know who is reading you. I wonder if those who know me IRL (in real life) would agree with how I see myself and therefore how I present myself online? I'm probably a lot less thoughtful than this blog makes out! After all, being a journal of my thoughts, it makes it look as if all I do is think and write!