I want to subtitle this post:
Defending the Priest and the Levite.
Not long ago, we had a lesson in priesthood on the Good Samaritan. This is one of my favorite parables, but the lesson quickly devolved into the traditional platitudes. People began to point fingers at the “hypocritical” priest and the Levite walking past the injured and robbed man “on the other side.” I decided to speak up and noted that there could be good reasons why the priest and Levite failed to stop and help. It was probably a bad neighborhood, known for robberies, and the Levite and priest might have been concerned about their own safety. After all, this man has just been robbed; maybe they also feared being robbed. We might want to cut the priest and Levite some slack. Would you help and stop a gang member in a bad neighborhood in Compton? I’d probably just get out of there. (I remember a black woman on my mission in Georgia told me she got a speeding ticket because she wanted to get through a county that had a strong KKK presence.) And if this was a bad neighborhood, I think it further explains the priest and Levite’s possibly prudent actions; if it was a bad neighborhood, it further illustrates how wonderful the Samaritan was for risking his own safety to help an injured man.
I was glad I spoke up. This led to some better comments about how often we walk by people in need. Do we help them? I admit that I usually pass by the homeless without offering help. I rarely give money. Why? I think they will waste it on drugs or alcohol. There is also a sign at the Utah Jazz arena telling people not to support panhandlers. So I often justify my inaction. However, I have seen former Utah Jazz players Thurl Bailey and Pace Mannion give money to the homeless every time they walk into the arena. I have been impressed by these acts of generosity.
There can be good reasons to justify not helping. Rather than give a homeless man money, Ed Smart gave Brian David Mitchell a job at his house, not knowing Mitchell would come back and kidnap his daughter Elizabeth. While Elizabeth returned to the family 9 months later (after being raped countless times by Mitchell and his wife Wanda Barzee), it could easily be argued that Ed put his family in danger by his act of charity. I doubt Ed invites the homeless to his house anymore, and like the priest and Levite, we can justify this inaction.
But I am impressed that Ed Smart still does good. He is now part of a foundation to rescue women forced into prostitution. Truly he should be admired for his Samaritan-like actions.
As for me, I’m no saint. I get annoyed when people approach me, and I have a bad attitude. But there are occasions that I do help. A few years ago I was approached in a Walmart parking lot. A man said he was broken down, trying to get to Oregon. It was December, very cold outside and he wanted to spend the night at a hotel not far away. He had a debit card with $30, but the room cost $50. He asked if I would cover the difference for the night. I agreed and drove him to the hotel. I was not surprised in the least when his debit card was declined. I said Merry Christmas and paid for his hotel night. Yet I did so grudgingly, and I thought “God’s not going to like my bad attitude.” I still don’t know why I don’t feel good helping people in need. I think it’s because I feel manipulated.
My sister is/was a foster parent to a two young girls around 5 years old. In both cases, the girls’ mothers were arrested on drug charges and put in a rehab program. Each mother was warned that if she failed rehab, her parental rights would be terminated. In the first case, the mother completed rehab and regained custody of the child. In the second case, the mother re-offended, lost her parental rights and went to jail. My sister has adopted this little girl and allows visitation with the birth mother.
The child has been challenging. She was taught to lie and steal by her mother. It is pretty much a survival mechanism. I remember one time my sister’s family visited my house around Christmas. As they got ready to leave, I helped deliver their luggage to their car. My sister’s husband went through his daughter’s luggage and joked that this was a customs inspection. There were a few items of clothes and electronics he didn’t recognize and he asked if they belonged to my daughter. They did. He said they had to do this because the foster daughter compulsively steals stuff. I was grateful for his inspection.
This foster/adopted daughter is now 9-10 years old. Her behavior has improved markedly, though I admit I have trouble trusting her and I wonder how she will turn out, given her terrible start in life. Will she follow her birth mother’s bad example and get into drugs, or get pregnant out of wedlock? I hope not. But my sister says she is there to help no matter what bad decisions this young girl may make.
I greatly admire my sister for being a living example of the Good Samaritan. I couldn’t do it. I don’t have the temperament. I am grateful that people like her make this world a better place. I don’t even think I’m as good as the priest or Levite. Sure there are times I’m not scared to help, but there are plenty of times I avoid helping when I could help, or I help with a bad attitude.
So that’s why I love the parable of the Good Samaritan, and realize I fall way short of those ideals. I wish we would better apply this story without falling into the same platitudes.
Today (Sunday) I had to work. “Had to work” may not be entirely accurate. We’ve had some expensive car repair bills recently, and spent too much money on a summer vacation. We’re in a little bit of debt, not major, but the money working would definitely help things out. On the other hand, our stake has made a big push for “keeping the Sabbath Day holy.” My wife was upset when she learned I was working. When I got home from work today, she let me know that I missed seeing my daughter set apart as Secretary of the Beehive class. She also told me one of the young women I’ve been helping in our family history class was sad I wasn’t there today. So suffice it to say, I’m in the doghouse right now. Could we do without the money? Well, I suppose. But we’re counseled to get out of debt. Feeble attempt at rationalizing? Yeah, probably.
My employer gave me a bonus today: a 2 hour meal break. I decided to go to Denny’s because I knew it had free internet and I could catch up on some tasks I needed to do. Here I am not only working, but spending money on the Sabbath, forcing others to serve me. My wife wouldn’t like this either. I guess I have a small taste of being a despised, sinning Samaritan right now.
As I got out of the car, I could vaguely hear a homeless man asking for help. I pretended I didn’t hear him. As I got closer, I was prepared to tell him I didn’t have any change but he surprised me by asking if he could get something to eat. I invited him to join me in the restaurant. It was still morning, so I ordered a veggie omelet with water. He asked if he could get the $4 all-you-can-eat pancakes and a coffee. It was probably his only meal that day, and made me a little sad. (As we left, he asked if he could get a strawberry milkshake to go.) He thanked me many times. Still, I didn’t have a very good attitude in helping him.
I wondered why he was homeless, and asked if he had a story. I hoped that it would help me build some empathy. He said he once had a job selling stuff at a second hand store. The owner went out of town to buy stuff for the store, and promised him he would give him a bonus if the store performed well in his absence. Upon return the homeless man asked for his bonus. The store owner replied that the bonus was that the store would not close and he could continue to work there. Upset, he quit. That was 4 years ago, and he has been homeless and without a job because he doesn’t have an ID so he can’t work. He also didn’t have the $30 to get his birth certificate from California, or $20 for his social security card in order to get an ID and a job. He asked it if was going to rain today. I told him the forecast was for rain. He was a little concerned but said the rain didn’t bother him too much. (Lucky for him it didn’t rain, but was windy.)
He was carrying a big water jug with a few possessions in it, and I asked him if that was all of his possessions. Yes it was. He said it was “easier” to not have possessions because he didn’t have to worry about getting his stuff stolen. Theft is a big problem among the homeless as they steal from each other. He said he didn’t want to be mad at anyone so it was good not to have material possessions.
He said he regretted quitting that job. He really enjoyed it. I asked if he ever thought about asking for his job back. Yes, but the owner refused. He also said his dad owned a lawn care business and he could get a job if he got his chemical license. I had never heard of needing a license to apply fertilizer, but he said he needed it to work for his dad. While he saw his dad occasionally, his father wouldn’t help and expected him to tough it out on his own. He had been kicked out of the house at age 16. He just got his high school diploma last year. I asked his age, and he was 34.
Conversation was difficult. I didn’t want to lecture him, but I hoped that the meal would be the start of something better for him. Since I didn’t know what else to say, I pulled out my laptop and began working on the tasks that I had originally planned to do. I knew I had written a post about how Salt Lake has reduced homelessness considerably, and asked him if he had contacted social services for help. He had not, because he felt that was for women and children, and he didn’t want to take away their access to the program. He also said he heard that the services provided needed to be paid back.
After some more awkward silence, and while I was working on my computer, I asked if he would “do me a favor, or rather do you a favor?” Would he contact social services and get some help getting an ID so he could work? Ok, but he didn’t know who to contact. I didn’t know either, so I pulled up the internet and did a quick Google search. Sure enough, the Deseret News had recently posted an article saying that Catholic Community Services had a program to help get an ID for the homeless. He even knew where the shelter was. (I didn’t.) I pulled out my cell phone to see if I could drive him there and get him some help today, but the office number said it was closed until Monday. (As I sat there with a cell phone, laptop, and internet, I felt monumentally richer than his guy. I had resources that he just didn’t even know about.)
I looked at my calendar and knew I would be in the area again on Wednesday night. I asked if he would meet me at the homeless shelter Wednesday afternoon. I promised I would help him get an ID so he could get a job and a place to stay so he didn’t have to worry about getting rained on. He promised to be there.
I’m just really skeptical about giving people money. I know the verses in the Book of Mosiah about being free with your substance. I just really have a hard time giving money to people in need. I don’t even give to the Salvation Army. I want to know my money is spent wisely I guess. I also want to know if he will really meet me on Wednesday. Does he really want to quit being homeless? Time will tell.
I don’t know what it is about me. I’m just really skeptical. Unlike the Good Samaritan, I risk very little to help. And despite wanting to help this man, and knowing there are thousands, perhaps millions more like him, I don’t get a warm fuzzy feeling. I don’t want to be manipulated. I fear of being bamboozled. I don’t know why I am not more empathetic or sympathetic. But I’m trying. And I know I’m not supposed to do my alms before men, yet here I am telling you.
But I’m not going to tell my wife. She’s still mad at me for missing church today.
What are your thoughts?
I have a sibling who has struggled with homelessness/mental illness. I wish I could say we as a family had solved all his problems (he is off the streets – hopefully long term, although his current situation is one of moldering away with little life improvement).
I had to learn the hard way that I *can’t* solve his problems. It has been the hardest lesson and one fraught with mistakes, anger (mostly his), and tears (all of ours). But we’ve tried. We’ve tried everything we can think of. There is no sweet peace in that or feeling of accomplishment. There is mostly just coming to accept that we can’t solve his problems, only try to support him if he decides he wants to take steps to solve them himself.
I have never thought of him in terms of the Good Samaritan story. When I do I see that the Samaritan paid for the injured man’s recovery, but then left the injured man to take advantage of the gift or return to the dangerous road to possibly injured again.
First of all, Mormon Heretic, you make some salient points and I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.
This brings to mind an experience my husband had ten years ago when he was the Gospel Doctrine teacher in our ward. My husband had a business dinner with his boss. After dinner his boss liked to take long walks and so, as usual, they went for a walk. During the walk and conversation his boss asked what he was teaching the upcoming Sunday. The upcoming lesson was the Good Samaritan. His boss, being Jewish, was unfamiliar with the story and wanted to know more, so my husband proceeded to share the story with him. As they were walking, a woman approached them and asked for money to help fix her car. (no car in sight). My husband’s boss (a multi-millionaire) just stared at my husband and jammed his hands in his pockets. Of course my husband had to pull out his wallet and handed her $20.
I am reluctant to give homeless people money as those who run shelters recommend that we don’t (instead, donate to them). My husband frequently gives money to pan handlers. If a panhandler is near an eating establishment I often give them money or offer to buy them a meal. (However on more than one occassion my offer of a meal has been angrily rejected).
Once I heard an interview with an author who had spent time living among the homeless.
He recommended we donate to homeless aid organizations. He also said he will give pan handlers/homeless a very small donation as a token recognition of their humanity.
I am not sure how to reconcile my feelings–between wanting to help and exercising due caution. I pretty much agree with everything the OP has to say on the topic. I have been burned enough–and maybe just lived long enough–to realize that not everybody in the world really wants help. I think the “ID card” guy is probably in this category, based on his answers to the OP’s very reasonable questions. I remember, as a very young child, bringing a bedraggled, half-drowned, starving kitten home on a day when it was pouring down rain. My mom told me to put the kitten back where I found it and that we “couldn’t save all the kittens.” I disobeyed her and walked around the block in the rain–crying my eyes out–until I found a neighbor to take the kitten. That lesson is burned in my brain though. We can’t save all the kittens.
When I was younger I used to believe that there were two types of panhandlers: those who really needed help and those who were trying to manipulate my emotions for financial gain. Now that I have spent the last 10 years watching a sibling spend the majority of his adult life homeless, I realize that these are not mutually exclusive categories. He would definitely have been someone who really needed help but was still manipulating people to get what he wanted. Any time anyone in our family gave him money or things we felt he needed, they were almost immediately sold, traded, stolen, manipulated out of him. It is a tough place to be in to want to help someone who is incapable of receiving that help. I know that my brother doesn’t represent all homeless people or all panhandlers. All I know is that every time I see a panhandler on the street it brings up 10 years of baggage that include both the guilt of not doing enough to help and the anger of being taken advantage of by someone I love over and over and over.
Anyway, my point is that I think it is the human condition to have a complicated relationship with helping the needy. The hard part is that many of them either don’t want the help or are literally incapable (due to mental illness) of really accepting that help and integrating back into society. There are no easy answers. Sometimes we pretend like Christianity fits with our everyday lives. My opinion is that true Christianity is so contrary to functioning in any regular society (giving up all your wealth, putting yourself in constant mortal danger to help the least among us, leaving and often offending our family and friends) that almost no one accomplishes it. It is an extremely radical movement. We can pretend we embrace full Christianity in our nice houses with our happy families, but that’s not the Christianity I understand from reading the Bible.
I’ve been doling out change to beggars for years, but in your one conversation and the appointment you’ve got on Wednesday, you may have done more than I’ve done in a lifetime. Skepticism can be healthy because it strives to see the realities beyond the present moment, and recognises, albeit woefully, just how chronic and horrible the underlying problems for these people are. Perhaps you even feel a deeper empathy with the beggar you turn away, than if you gave him a few coins, because you recognise coins are not going to solve anything and may be making things worse. This makes you sad and frustrated, but its a sadness and frustration you share with the beggar, and sharing that sentiment gives you something in common. Then when you get a chance to make a real difference, you jump at the chance.
“But I’m not going to tell my wife. She’s still mad at me for missing church today.”
This brings up what I’ll call the “starving mother” scenario. A mother selflessly feeds her children all her food until she, herself, starves to death, at which point there’s *nobody* caring for the children. Sometimes I look around at the ornate cathedrals where I worship and think “why doesn’t the catholic church give all this money to feed people?” The answer is that the ornate cathedrals are part of a larger infrastructure that feeds many more people than would be helped if that infrastructure didn’t exist. Even charity has to have a business model with some overhead.
My point is that I draw the line when helping others starts to threaten my *own* sanity and security. In this case, the OP is helping somebody and doesn’t feel comfortable sharing that with his wife. It’s a small thing, but it matters, especially when that help might not even be put to good use or even appreciated. The truth is that some folks just live for the con. They get a little rush out of conning you, but, beyond that, they have no more feelings for you than they do for a fire hydrant. Don’t feel guilty about sacrificing even the thinnest slice of your own integrity for that.
Correction “Don’t feel guilty about *not* sacrificing even the thinnest slice of your own integrity for that.”
I taught this same lesson 3 weeks ago in our Priesthood Meeting and relate d an experience that happened to me and the good Samaritan that came to my rescue. I was making a left turn on a busy street in downtown Salt Lake City. I thought I was turning into the left lane, but then saw a sign a few yards in front of me which I was about to hit and was forced to come to a screeching halt. I ended up being high centered on the cement barrier separating the lanes. When I tried to back up, my front wheels were spinning but not making contact with the ground. There was quite a bit of traffic coming in both directions and I was concerned with the safety of my family. I was hoping someone would stop and give me assistance but the only thing I got were stares and funny looks from people in their cars whizzing by. I had my wife and 2 children get out of the car and stand by the side of the street while I figured out what to do. The next thing I noticed was a homeless man coming out from underneath a shrub close to where my wife was standing. He had been sleeping there and the noise of my car scraping the cement barrier caught his attention. This man then came over and helped me push my car off the cement median. I was very grateful for his help and as a gesture of gratitude handed him a few dollars as a thank you. He refused the gesture and said he would not take the money from me. He said he was brought up as a good Christian and wanted to help me in my predicament. I thanked him for his help and went on my way.
My wife and I discussed the irony of our situation on the way home. We were touched that someone who had so little would offer to help us. This taught me a valuable lesson. Sometimes help comes from the least likely sources. It also made me feel a little guilty that I should perhaps be a little less judgmental when I passed transients on the street. I think the Apostle Paul summed it up very nicely in chapter 5 of 1st Thessalonians, verses 12 and 13: ” And we urge you, brethren, to recognize those who labor among you, and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love for their work’s sake. Be at peace among yourselves.”
WKJ
When I was reading this post, I was waiting to see if anyone would mention that one scripture in Mosiah 4. In the post, you mention Mosiah 18, but I’m thinking of this
I think the parable of the Good Samaritan is difficult — if I am being truly honest, it’s probably one of the most convicting parables of all to me. As you allude, there’s this desire to treat the Levite and the Priest as wholly other, but I think the intention (and how it would have been received in its original context) is to treat the Levite and the Priest as part of our own community — and perhaps, as representing people we think of as the most official or the best of us (so I’ve seen analogies likening the Levite and the Priest to General Authorities, for example.)
I think it’s a good thing to humanize the Levite and the priest — to share their rationalizations and why they might have felt justified for not helping. However, I can’t help but feel that Christianity in general (and Mormonism in specific with those Mosiah 4 scriptures) is a religion that says that those rationalizations are mistaken. MH, you say that the Levite and priest’s actions may have been “prudent” — but I don’t think this is what the scriptures call Christians to be…at the very least, while prudence is recognized as one of the cardinal human virtues, the thing about Christianity is precisely about the addition of the theological virtues — including the greatest which is charity/love.
I’m not saying this is easy. I’m not saying I’m doing any better than anyone else (I was fully serious when I said this is probably one of the most convicting parables. As an atheist, I don’t usually personally see the need for salvation, but the closest things to getting me to see things differently are things like poverty, homelessness, mental illness, things like that — I have to concede that everything isn’t roses and that includes my own attitude of fear, callousness, insensitivity, and so on. I’d make similar rationalizations as in the OP, but can’t fully believe them.
This post raises really good points…what happens when it doesn’t feel good to give? Is that a sign of our own degeneracy? Something that we need to push past? What happens when our suspicions that our gift will be ill-used are confirmed? At what point do we say, “No more!”
I feel like these are hard questions, and that Christianity doesn’t want people to shy away. It doesn’t want us to comfortably withhold because we suspect or even know that the money will be misused.
(Then again, with the church doubling down on conditional love, maybe that is an option for Mormons? But I think for traditional Christians, unconditional love can’t have as a condition the appropriate use of an unwarranted, unearned gift. What we can learn, however, is how much the choices of the recipient of a gift can affect the utility of a gift, and then think, as Mosiah wants us to, about whether we are using the gifts we have received effectively, or if we are instead squandering them or pawning them off for our own counterfeit idols and addictions.)
Andrew, awesome comment. I remember typing into Google “Mosiah free with your substance” and debating whether I should link to Mosiah 4 or 18. Since 18 was more along the lines of “free with your substance”, I went with that. However, Mosiah 4 is probably more appropriate to my frame of mind–not wanting to help, and justifying my inaction. And yes, my uncharitable thoughts convict me as being not truly Christian in my actions.
Maybe another subtitle should be “A sinner helps another sinner.”
I often think that giving to the homeless and panhandlers is a choice I need to make about my needs. I know they have needs but I don’t know their situation, story, or ability to use that money wisely or if they’ll use it for alcohol and drugs and continue to look for the best places in town to get the most from others. There are shelters and agencies that can do way more than me to help them. And the alerts we feel about safety are real and to be listened to. Our first priority is to ourselves and our family.
But there are times we feel safe enough to take risks and reach out to others. I don’t think we need to beat ourselves up if we don’t do that every time. The Good Samaritan may have only done that one time too…the point the Lord was making with the parable was not to make it be a law that we must always do those things, and to judge the priest and Levite and throw rocks at the “establishment of religion”. The point, I think is that it is noble when we overcome our fears and cross the road…whether it is safe or not…no matter what our place is in society. We aren’t defined by our labels but our actions, to focus on the “good” and not the “Samaritan”.
There may be times we take risks, and other times we follow the example of Captain Moroni and build up our fortresses and battlements to protect ourselves and our families. We choose, based on what we need, and where our heart is.
Like ReTx posted…I don’t think I can “fix” others. I want to. My heart goes out to them. I want my money to give them a chance for a new ID or to learn how to fish, or whatever…but that goes back to me…what I want them to do with the help they get from me, perhaps thank me, perhaps change, perhaps use it to help their situation. Mother Theresa was a great example, even though she doubted if she was helping or making a difference, or if God even noticed, or if God was even there.
But so often, especially when mental illness is involved, others will not see things like I do and not see the help like I do. They will not change if they don’t want to. They are still God’s children.
And I think there are times I simply don’t feel safe to cross the road. Will others judge me as the Mormon Temple Endowed High Priest who did nothing (if they knew such labels about me)? Perhaps. I have to live with the consequences of my actions. I have learned in life that boundaries are OK to have. And that judgments of others will be endured, accurate or not.
MH, I like your story…thanks for sharing. You did something. Doesn’t mean you have to always do everything for everyone…but that day…you did something. If you never do another action like that…you still have this experience to take with you.
Good, better, best….we choose what to do in various situations. Perhaps next time, you’ll feel the need to go to church instead. Or you’ll choose again to live the gospel regardless of sacrament meeting attendance. Why you don’t feel you want to share your beautiful experience with your wife is curious…are you perhaps doing it to show her you can be good even if not in church? Or are there issues you have that are your own that make it too risky to share some experiences…I don’t judge and don’t need to know…but it makes me think you could ponder that a little also as part of this experience.
Serving a stranger is wonderful. Serving those closest to us that we love is of greater importance in my book. And I’m sure you do…often…serve your family in many ways…including working to get money and sacrificing even if it feels like you are judged for missing church.
Just some random thoughts about it as I read it.
Over time, all these things bring you experience, and develop you into who you become. You’re a good guy.
When I took out-of-town relatives into town to see the sights, I was approached by a guy asking for $20 because he’d run out of gas. By his accent and youth, I was pretty sure he hadn’t been in the US more than a few years. He was dressed and groomed reasonably and seemed like a normal guy. I don’t remember his story on how he’d ended up out of gas in the touristy area, or why he didn’t have the money to handle it himself, but it made sense. I didn’t even hesitate to whip out my wallet and hand him $20. At that point, he seemed to get a little choked up and said you’re not from around here are you, and when I said I lived farther out of town, he said he knew it, because nobody there would help him. I guess he’d asked a number of people. I was a little surprised at first, and then I realized it was the time of year and the part of the city where the homeless all gathered to hit up the tourists. No wonder people just brushed him off. And he was asking for $20, not spare change.
What was really interesting to me was my reaction. Despite his accent, somehow I identified with this guy. He seemed like me, somehow. So handing him $20 didn’t seem like that big a deal. However, when the homeless people starting their begging and shaming routines to get money from me, I did feel like giving at all. THOSE people were just trying to get something from me. They weren’t like me at all.
Years later, I spent a lot of time helping a homeless person. Not out of real charity, but more out of duty to a church calling. Fortunately, she qualified for veterans assistance, and I helped get her into the VA and into a program to help her. I spent hours with her and helped her manage the interviews (which stressed her out so much she kept trying to run off). She was definitely mentally ill, but was terrified of psychiatric treatment from past experiences and became very distressed if I tried to bring up the topic. I discovered some things about the her that I hadn’t completely appreciated, even though I knew them: 1) she was a child of God (that was oh so clear) 2) she struggled in her head, but she was also guilty of self-indulgence just like a mentally healthy person, and she needed to fight that temptation. I was so happy when she got into the program! I felt like I’d really accomplished something. We communicated for a week or two afterwards and then started to lose touch. Next I heard from her, she’d shown up looking for me in dirty nightclothes, distraught and nearly hopeless. She’d just been released from jail for attempting to kill her roommate, and since she’d been arrested at night and they just got to leave with what they’d come in with, they’d put her back in her night clothes and turned her out on the streets. You might wonder why she wasn’t charged, and I’m convinced it’s because even the criminal justice system doesn’t want to deal with the mentally ill. But because of the attack, the program washed their hands of her and she was too ashamed to come back to me. It wasn’t until she’d spent a couple cold nights with very little clothing that her hopelessness overcame her shame and she’d sought me out. There are a lot more details of course, but again I tried to help her. And again, I did, but the results remain inconclusive. I couldn’t solve her problems. I can just help her along.
Since a few people have mentioned my last comment, “But I’m not going to tell my wife. She’s still mad at me for missing church today.” I will tell you that it was an attempt at comic relief. It made me laugh, mostly due to the irony of her seeing me as a sinner, and me trying to make lemonade out my self-inflicted choice of sinful lemons.
Clearly my motivations for working probably weren’t the best, and even if I told her what I did, she would say I was justifying bad habits. And she’s probably right. I did the right thing for wrong reasons (in multiple ways.) And while she feels justified in condemning me (and I probably deserve some condemnation), I don’t think it would do much good to say, “Yeah but see what good I did today!” It’s tooting my own horn. It’s taking credit for my alms before men, (which I’ve already broken by telling all of you strangers–and a few friends), so I can’t even do a good thing the right way. Once again, right things, wrong reasons.
Mostly the comment was just a note of the irony of the situation. It also hearkens back to the irony that Jesus used the “Bad” Samaritan in a “Good” way. It’s irony. No matter what good I did yesterday, she still remembers the bad commandment breaking I was doing. And I just feel like it wouldn’t do any good to tell her, because then I’m justifying my commandment breaking. So I ask for God’s grace in my sinfulness. And I hope He grants me grace, though I really don’t deserve it. But that’s exactly what grace is–a gift we don’t deserve.
And she is already getting over it and treating me better today anyway…. I’m grateful for her forgiveness.
I also helped give a woman a $20 bill at the gas station one time.
The problem was when I happened to go back to that same gas station 8 hours later that same day to fill up a different car, she was still there, and approached me and gave me the same story and asked for the same amount.
When I told her I had already helped her that morning…she quickly backed away and did not want to talk to me.
So…what then? I didn’t feel like I was helping her. Do I keep giving to people who ask? I felt burned.
I guess I just feel like I gave. Like I said before, I think I just do it for what I feel is right and to know I am willing, regardless of what they do with it.
And, I still think there are better resources to help people if they will get with the program and go through social services to get help. I sometimes just have to say “no spare change, sorry”.
Andrew S brings up a good point about the scriptures. But doesn’t it say in the scriptures about the Lord being pleased if meat is used sparingly? And yet, look how much meat we consume. It says in King Benjamin to give if you have. But a lady brought up a good point one time. If I give to someone on the street, there will be two of us out there. Tough to reconcile.
Interesting post. Thoughts on the foster child. We have four children and two of them have given us fits so I don’t think we can put the blame on her being a foster child. In fact, maybe she is experiencing emotional difficulties because of her life before the foster home. My wife was a foster child for a while and felt the foster parents she was in did not fully understand her condition. I find it interesting that the True Church has no services set up to assist homeless people but the Catholic Church does. In terms of good reasons not to stop and help, I think that was part of the equation. We are supposed to help even if our live are in danger.I recall a few years ago a man was helping people get to safety after a plane wreck in cold water. he lost his life in the process.
Richard Holloway makes the insightful observation in his sermon, “The danger of sincere religion,” that the Levite and the priest were just trying to follow their religion sincerely. The Jewish law required that anyone touching a dead body (the man looked like he was dead) was unclean and must be cleansed in the temple. His point is that the mean are not hypocrites but sincere religionists, yet their religion has failed them, and that this is the situation we are all in.
If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
loved this. And skipping church provided opportunity to learn in a way you most likely would never get at church and now you have shared it with others as well. To me this is more like what I think Jesus would be like. Out in the world learning and teaching rather than cloistering himself away in obedience to the popular religion of his time and place.
Amen to what Matt said. I was trying to formulate a post but he said it better.
I love this post, MH. I love how honest you are about your complicated feelings about helping people when you don’t want to be manipulated or feel like you’re being taken by someone who doesn’t actually need your help. In particular, this paragraph really resonates with me:
“I don’t know what it is about me. I’m just really skeptical. Unlike the Good Samaritan, I risk very little to help. And despite wanting to help this man, and knowing there are thousands, perhaps millions more like him, I don’t get a warm fuzzy feeling. I don’t want to be manipulated. I fear of being bamboozled. I don’t know why I am not more empathetic or sympathetic. But I’m trying. And I know I’m not supposed to do my alms before men, yet here I am telling you.”
This totally describes me too, except that I’m not even trying like you are. I’m just feeling conflicted and mostly not doing anything. I really appreciate you working through your thoughts and feelings on this issue here.
I showed up at the homeless center, and my friend was a no show. It was strange walking through a crowd of homeless people, looking for him and hoping not to make eye contact with anyone.
The place to get the ID’s was literally next door to the St. Vincent’s homeless shelter, and I was told they help people every day from 8-9 am and 1-3 pm, and it doesn’t cost any money. Funny thing is while I was trying to figure out where to go, I read the Des News article and it said:
Since he knew about the shelter, I’m sure he knew “The Road Home” was next door where he could get an ID if he really wanted one. If he didn’t want to really get an ID, why tell me to come?
Whatever. I guess he was trying to act sincere. Doesn’t help my skepticism meter or build my empathy. But I’ll still try to do good. Glad I didn’t get a parking ticket while I was there.
My brother has perfected telling people what they want to hear in the moment that he is getting what he wants. I see it as a form of tit-for-tat. You took this guy out to lunch. He repaid you/rewarded you by making you think you were truly making a difference in his life.