Saturday, February 02, 2008

Listerine

I often times think that "helping" is a one way "transaction." I "give" someone something, and get nothing in return. I get to feel good about myself because I've been "generous", while the other person owes me gratitude, and perhaps even loyalty.

This is the case in many scenarios, but it's evident most to me in two particular scenarios: Evangelism, and serving the poor. In both instances I have "something" that the other person "wants" or "needs" (or should want/need), and the other person has nothing that I want or need in return. In the first scenario, the other person needs the gospel, and in the second, food or shelter. Both scenarios seem to imply help as a "one way road."

Over the past few years this view has been challenged, and yesterday again, I was challenged to take a bigger, broader perspective. I have much to learn from others, regardless of who they are, regardless of their spiritual state or their socio-economical situation.

This became evident to me at the GCBC overnighter, where I participate every so often. Along with another volunteer, I spend the night at the church, with close to 40 homeless men and women. As a volunteer my job is to ensure that everything runs smoothly: we hand out mats, blankets, pillows, we turn off the lights at night and back on in the morning, and we give them water, tea, or tylenols if they wake up at night.

Usually overnighters go smoothly. The occasional temper flares, the occasional argument, but nothing too physical (although fights do happen occasionally).

Well, last night, not all went so smoothly.

One of our guests, Phil, had snuck in a bottle of Listerine, and guzzled it down like a child does milk. He got drunk, and in his stupor, he stole someone else's epilepsy pills and gulped them down too, without anyone else noticing it. The result was that Phil became very agitated, nervous, and anxious. He became increasingly obnoxious.

We wondered whether we should 1- call the police to pick him up (because he was waking up everyone and preventing them from sleeping); or 2- let him stay. The temperature outside was below 0, so kicking him out was not an option.

We decided to let him stay, not so much because we wanted to extend grace to him, but because we noticed that the guests - the very people who were impacted most by Phil's annoying behaviour - were ok with the situation.

They realized in a profound way that I did not (because of my orientation towards "keeping the law/rules"? or "maintaining control"?), that this man was a broken man who needed not to be dealt with harshly, but who needed grace. The best thing to do was to ignore him, let him sober up, and try to get some sleep amidst the noise. So we adopted our guests' approach, and just "put up" with him.

In the morning Phil woke up hung-over but sober, and realizing his sin and unacceptable behaviour, he came up to us, apologized, and thanked us for our graciousness.

So what did I learn? Primarily one thing: 1- Helping requires openness to give and to receive by both people. I'm not convinced there's such a thing as a "helper" and a "helpee" (is that a word?). Both people in the given situation are open to "giving" and "receiving." It is, therefore, a two-way street.

In the above scenario, I helped provide a safe place for Phil to sleep. On the other hand, I received help (indirectly, perhaps) by Phil, who helped me see the pride and lack of generosity present in my heart. The other guests present were open too, because by putting up with Phil they helped me see what generosity looks like. In all likelihood they saw Phil's brokenness as a mirror of their own brokenness.

It seems to me that I have something to learn from everyone, because everyone is made in the image of God, meaning, something of Jesus is in everyone. I think that in a very real way, Jesus is in everyone. I wonder if this is what Jesus meant when he said "as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me" (Matthew 25:40).

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