Published on The Ooze Again
The Ooze picked up another one of my articles. This one is entitled, "Two Lists," and was only published on samdavidson.net before now. You can see it on The Ooze here, and I've also included a full text below. Thanks for reading.
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"Two Lists"
2 - Pork Chops
1 - Chicken in a Bag
2 - Sausage Packs
2 - Pks Hot Dogs
1 - Hiwaian gell'o Sald
1 - Pk Hamberger
1 - Meatloaf Sauce
1 - Glory College Greens
I was handed this list as I returned to my house after a jog. It was handed to me by a man with a beer in his hand named Jackie Chiles. He told me a story in which he shared he was down on his luck, out of work due to an ankle injury, waiting for his tax refund, and out of food stamps for the week. He didn't ask me for any cash. He just handed me the list and asked if I would buy some of the items.
I went home, changed, and met him in the parking lot of Kroger's, a grocery store in my neighborhood. He didn't want to come with me inside; he said he would have been too embarrassed. The pork-laden list was a puzzler for me: I didn't know where to find most of these items since I don't eat collard greens or sausage too often. But I trudged through every aisle on this busy Saturday, as if on a charitable scavenger hunt. I found everything he needed (except the Hawaiian salad) and added a few items to help out his family. I gave him his groceries outside and he told me he would have me over to eat sometime at his apartment in the projects.
Two hours later, my wife and I went to the mall in one of the wealthiest parts of town. We decided to have an inexpensive night of shopping, which meant we would use up as many Christmas gift cards as we could. At the end of the night, we came home with the following:
1 - Express Editor Pant
2 - J. Crew long sleeve shirts
1 - Starbucks Strawberry ice cream drink
2 - Black dress socks
1 - Gap sweater
The disparity in the lists is overwhelming, much like the disparity on our streets. You don't need to tell Jackie or me that my side of 8th Avenue is richer than his, or that my disposable income buys designer clothes while his is nonexistent. In the course of an afternoon, I had been to the heights and depths of the American economy, and I would never be the same. But had I given to more people than Jackie that day? Had I benefited many more lives than the man who now had a full pantry?
Sometimes we try to disguise our direct participation in the free market economy as indirect charity. I could have easily rationalized that I helped out plenty of other people that day: Because of my purchases, J. Crew could keep paying a college student for a part time job, Starbucks could buy more beans from a foreign coffee farmer, and a textile worker could get paid for another hour in order to sew my sweater. But there was no charity or sacrifice in my mall trip - I didn't leave empty-handed.
My Kroger trip was a different story. At the grocery store, I spent half an hour looking for items I didn't know existed. I guessed what else this man's family might need. I spent my money and walked out empty-handed. This is the true sign of responsible giving, of being a good steward. We must give and get nothing in return (save the feeling of joy and satisfaction).
When we receive something that likewise benefits us (donating money and getting a set of golf clubs, or bidding on an auction item), there is no sacrifice: we're only scratching each other's backs. While auctions and raffles are very beneficial and very legitimate methods of fundraising, we miss the idea found in Matthew 5, where Jesus tells his listeners to go two miles instead of one. Each instance leaves the giver with less than he or she came with, and maybe even takes a little from them as well.
More money allows us to have more choices - this is the point of getting as much as you can. More money means you can choose whether to send your daughter to the research university or the community college. More money means you can choose to live in a new home or a tired apartment. But, more money also means you can choose who receives: you, or the least of these.
We would do well to remember the words of Mother Teresa who reminded us that "love means to be willing to give until it hurts." My two lists last Saturday were very different lists, not because of their net worth, but because of their net charity.
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"Two Lists"
2 - Pork Chops
1 - Chicken in a Bag
2 - Sausage Packs
2 - Pks Hot Dogs
1 - Hiwaian gell'o Sald
1 - Pk Hamberger
1 - Meatloaf Sauce
1 - Glory College Greens
I was handed this list as I returned to my house after a jog. It was handed to me by a man with a beer in his hand named Jackie Chiles. He told me a story in which he shared he was down on his luck, out of work due to an ankle injury, waiting for his tax refund, and out of food stamps for the week. He didn't ask me for any cash. He just handed me the list and asked if I would buy some of the items.
I went home, changed, and met him in the parking lot of Kroger's, a grocery store in my neighborhood. He didn't want to come with me inside; he said he would have been too embarrassed. The pork-laden list was a puzzler for me: I didn't know where to find most of these items since I don't eat collard greens or sausage too often. But I trudged through every aisle on this busy Saturday, as if on a charitable scavenger hunt. I found everything he needed (except the Hawaiian salad) and added a few items to help out his family. I gave him his groceries outside and he told me he would have me over to eat sometime at his apartment in the projects.
Two hours later, my wife and I went to the mall in one of the wealthiest parts of town. We decided to have an inexpensive night of shopping, which meant we would use up as many Christmas gift cards as we could. At the end of the night, we came home with the following:
1 - Express Editor Pant
2 - J. Crew long sleeve shirts
1 - Starbucks Strawberry ice cream drink
2 - Black dress socks
1 - Gap sweater
The disparity in the lists is overwhelming, much like the disparity on our streets. You don't need to tell Jackie or me that my side of 8th Avenue is richer than his, or that my disposable income buys designer clothes while his is nonexistent. In the course of an afternoon, I had been to the heights and depths of the American economy, and I would never be the same. But had I given to more people than Jackie that day? Had I benefited many more lives than the man who now had a full pantry?
Sometimes we try to disguise our direct participation in the free market economy as indirect charity. I could have easily rationalized that I helped out plenty of other people that day: Because of my purchases, J. Crew could keep paying a college student for a part time job, Starbucks could buy more beans from a foreign coffee farmer, and a textile worker could get paid for another hour in order to sew my sweater. But there was no charity or sacrifice in my mall trip - I didn't leave empty-handed.
My Kroger trip was a different story. At the grocery store, I spent half an hour looking for items I didn't know existed. I guessed what else this man's family might need. I spent my money and walked out empty-handed. This is the true sign of responsible giving, of being a good steward. We must give and get nothing in return (save the feeling of joy and satisfaction).
When we receive something that likewise benefits us (donating money and getting a set of golf clubs, or bidding on an auction item), there is no sacrifice: we're only scratching each other's backs. While auctions and raffles are very beneficial and very legitimate methods of fundraising, we miss the idea found in Matthew 5, where Jesus tells his listeners to go two miles instead of one. Each instance leaves the giver with less than he or she came with, and maybe even takes a little from them as well.
More money allows us to have more choices - this is the point of getting as much as you can. More money means you can choose whether to send your daughter to the research university or the community college. More money means you can choose to live in a new home or a tired apartment. But, more money also means you can choose who receives: you, or the least of these.
We would do well to remember the words of Mother Teresa who reminded us that "love means to be willing to give until it hurts." My two lists last Saturday were very different lists, not because of their net worth, but because of their net charity.
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Comment (1)
2:18 PM
'net charity' interesting. this is a great story sam, i only wish i had your courage and conviction to give. shalom -g
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