Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Freely We’ve Received …

A few years ago I was introduced to a song by Tim Hughes titled “God of Justice (We Must Go)” and I think it’s safe to say that since that time I’ve not really been the same.

The song comes to mind at some of the most seemingly odd times.  I have been preparing for a sermon series over the next four weeks on the topic of “stewardship” – seems straight forward enough, eh?  Well, as I was pondering what to put on our church’s “movable letter sign” the lyrics to God of Justice again popped into my head.  Particular the lines, “freely we’ve received, not freely we must give.” so I naturally put the line “freely we receive” on the sign.

End of story right? Wrong.

I then decided I wanted to put something on our church Facebook page with the song.  So, I started searching YouTube for videos to the song.  Plenty of them out there.  Problem is that I began to get uncomfortable with the images that were being portrayed in most of the videos.

Now, please hear me clearly on this. 

I was not uncomfortable because the images were of homeless people, people in third-world countries, or those who were obviously in need.  YES, those are legitimate needs that we are called to help take care of.

What bothered me is that as I listened to the song, I realized there are tons of “otherwise normal looking people” who we are called daily to interact with and serve.  But we have a tendency to overlook the “normal” looking folks.  Why? Maybe because we are afraid that if we help them that someone will see that we have needs and will try to help us (heaven forbid we admit our own shortcomings and need for others to help).  Maybe it’s because we assume that “normal” looking people don’t need any help. 

Let’s face it, homeless people who have disheveled clothing and haven’t showered in days simply appear to need help.  Third-world country residents who don’t have food to eat show physical signs of needing our help.  But you and I … everyday people who put on a strong face and hide our wounds and scars, could we possibly need help?

As our congregation, Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Knoxville, TN continues to listen to God about what part we are called to play in God’s mission, I am becoming more and more convinced that our role is to care for the everyday needs of everyday people.  To breakdown our strong exteriors and be open enough with one another that we can be vulnerable and seek the help we really need.

It starts with the widow who needs companionship asking friends to stop by for tea. It starts with the couple trying to make ends meet financially asking others to pray for financial strength and wisdom. It starts with the grandparent raising their grandchild calling on those around them to help when the stress grows too great.  We need to receive the love and care of our neighbors and then in turn we need to share love and care with those around us.

That’s what I hear today when I hear “freely we’ve received, now freely we must give.”

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

shame, shame

A friend of mine recently posted an article on Facebook that made me think twice.  I had never really thought about the shame associated with life in poverty, afterall, I have been priviliged to always be able to put food on my table one way or another. 

Even during times of unemployment or low income, I always was able to get credit and charge the food I needed if I wasn’t in a position to pay cash.  I am not proud to say that I’m still paying off those meals (called debt) and part of the reason is that I am too proud to ask for help and I have always figured “it will get better” and I will one day be able to pay off these debts (which I will).

I admit, there are those that abuse the system of food assistance. Those that could find other means to feed their family and take advantage of the system. But there are those who are trying hard to provide for their families but can’t and for those people the system provides the necessary food to get by from day to day – and to those people we do a real disservice when we blame them for the situation they find themselves in and lump them into a category of those that “are looking for something for nothing.” (or utter worse phrases).

As I read the article my friend posted, I was struck by the line about shame, “Turning poverty into a mark of shame in our national conversation makes it easy for us to diffuse responsibility and blame our neighbors in need instead of helping them.”

It reminded me of the many issues in life that people face, by no fault of their own, that bring them shame.  A few weeks ago a young man came into my office at the church and asked if I had time to talk, I said sure and invited him to sit down.  He asked if his mother and wife could join the conversation, I saw no reason why not.  As we talked he shared about his struggles with depression and bi-polar disorder and how he was looking for some help.  He didn’t know where to turn. He was ashamed to have to seek assistance.  I offered what help I could, referred him to some local resources, and let him share his struggles with me.  He was on his way and hasn’t returned.  I pray he got the help he needs.

There are tons of issues and experiences that people face that they feel ashamed to tell anyone about. The loss of a job. Infertility. Depression. Addiction. Miscarriage. Debt. the list goes on and on and on.

As a society we’ve swept many of these experiences and diseases under the rug.  We don’t talk about them – partly because we don’t know what to do with them – partly because they reveal our own shortcomings and inability to deal with our own situations.

In many of these instances we shame the people who are dealing with the situations. We blame a consumeristic lifestyle for the debt an individual finds themself in. We blame the alcoholic parent for the abusive nature of the child. We label the over-energetic and inquisitive child as ADHD. The list goes on because labeling and dismissing these situations is easier than loving the unlovely.

There are homeless people who stop by my office at the church because they long for someone to listen to them, so I do – even though they smell, even though I may have “other things to do” – but that doesn’t make me a saint.  In fact, I would guess there’s always something more I could do for them.

And there is.  We can treat everyone we encounter with dignity and begin to break down the “us and them” walls.  Until we stop seeing people as “items to be labeled and sorted” and seeing them as “children of God” we have more work to do.  Until we as a church embrace the grieving mother who just had a miscarriage and recognize that loss with her, we have more work to do. Until we as a church call people by their given names (which means we need to take the time to get to know their names) instead of the labels that society gives them: poor, uneducated, depressed, addict, affluent, selfish – we have more work to do.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we all have a label that we would rather not share with the rest of the world.  Maybe it’s time we begin to wear the labels on the outside instead of burying them deep within so that those who are broken will find comfort in our company, comfort in the fact that Christ loves the unlovely, comfort in the church – because it is a place where flawed humanity can gather and rest.

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." ~Matthew 11:28-30 The Message