Sandwiches or Cigarettes

Tonight I fed a homeless man, but, before you go giving me a virtual pat-on-the-back let me confess it doesn't happen as often as it should and that I first noticed him while at the McDonald's Redbox paying a dollar for a movie that I could have been buying him a sandwich with. Interesting how those things work.

Well, I gave myself a mental lecture in the parking lot about how it wasn't safe for me to stop for a homeless man at 12:20 at night in Waco, and continued the lecture all the way home only to have worked myself up enough that I ran up the apartment steps and made him a hasty sandwich-dinner bag and drove back to the parking lot where I'd spotted him.

He was still there, speaking to something I couldn't see and shuffling back and forth in his pinkish colored flip-flops.

I pulled up and called to him, and handed the little dinner package out the window explaining the foods inside.

"Do you have a light?" he asked, sticking a lighter in my window.

"No sir, I've very sorry, I don't"

"No cigarettes?"

"No sir, I don't smoke, I do not have any cigarettes."

"Any cash?"

I glanced down, "Actually I left my purse at home, I'm very sorry sir. "

He proceeded to curse me and hit his hand on the car door, "I don't want food! I want cigarettes!"

I apologized a final time, "I'm very sorry sir, I do not have any cigarettes. But maybe you could give the food to someone else then? I need to go, good night" and left.

It makes me wonder a little bit, should I have bought him cigarettes instead? Of course I did not know what he wanted at the time I prepared the sandwich,  but thinking of those times when I ask the individual what they want, such as what kind of sandwich he or she would prefer, if I should consider saying yes if they ask me instead to buy cigarettes.

I won't, because I don't endorse smoking, and would rather give something sustaining rather than harmful when I try to help people, but if what that homeless person really wants is a pack of cigarettes, should I consider? Should I deny them their craving, unhealthy as it is, and instead give them food they will not have an appetite for?

It is curious to consider, and definitely left me puzzling this evening. I can extrapolate upon principles, but I'm left without a perfect answer. In the case of someone as unstable (and I mention now, he was not all mentally there) as this man, is the most effective ministry really the sandwich or the cigarette? We hear about medical mission trips that tend first to the ailments of the body that they may then speak to the hearts, and so for this man afflicted with the "need" for nicotine I wonder if caring for that "disease" first may have been my better action.

Practicality again demands recognition of the fact I was not stopping to share with him, and very likely will not see or recognize him for a future meeting but regardless, deliberation is still dancing on my brain.

Next time will prove another opportunity, prayerfully for more favorable atmosphere where I can invest in a way impacting beyond the temporal shell of body, but for for tonight I won't belittle that. God does as He pleases, and I relinquish my thoughts that they might be pleasing to Him.

Good night.

Life As My Classroom

The term “class” has several uses, it can be the sophistication of an individual, the rank of social group one is a part of, or the set of individuals present to learn a subject. There are several variations of available uses for each ranging from “being the best in its league” through the type of quality grading food products receive. “Class” is a word of wide utility but I’d like to bundle all of the forms above to talk about my experiences in a tax office today.

Benjamin Franklin told us “In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes.” We know Benjamin Franklin was a signer of our Declaration of Independence where “all men” are announced to be “created equal”, and the government that taxes us today still stands by the philosophy that we are “equal”. So since  last I checked the statistics for American’s was 1 in 1 people die, I’m going to call death and taxes a safe equalizer, but when you’re standing in the office interacting with varying taxpayers you sure wouldn’t think they knew it.
Every individual that enters that office has taxes. Whether paid or unpaid, prepared or unprepared, waiting for a refund or waiting for payment vouchers, the individuals in that office have taxes. So that creates a commonality. The office only has one waiting area; everyone sits in the same style chair in the same area. And only one type of coffee is served in the same style of plain Styrofoam cup. Each individual is greeted with the same basic script rehearsed by the same employee. Wow, that’s three things beyond taxes now that the individuals in the office share, but that’s the point. Sharing doesn’t happen.

The polished brief-case bearing business man saunters in rather confidently. Either he is not concerned about taxes or really just doesn’t mind, but he needs to be seated where he can see the clock.

The couple chatters in, asking about the rules of filing jointly for refund pick-up, how much can they write off for a new home purchase? And request to be moved ahead because they have a babysitter waiting at home.

The pregnant single-mother wobbles in, hands full between protecting belly and keeping a toddler from tipping over, asking in hushed tones what sort of child care credits can she get, and what happens if she haven’t received child support in a while?
The fast-food worker swishes in, proceeded by greasy apron and the smell of smoke, needing to know, exactly how long will the wait be? He’s on break and brought a borrowed car.

And the quiet one pads in, holding bundles and offering a hotel number for her contact. She’ll wait if it’s alright, even if it will be a few hours. And she studies the wall poster “RECEIVE YOUR REFUND TODAY!” with covert eyes and fidgeting fingers.

There are more than just these four people that frequent the office, but it’s amazing that each dons a class of their own. With all that is similar in this setting, the waiting area is curiously silent. They won’t talk about the weather, how long the wait has been, or if the economy will turn up. They don’t comment on the movies showing next door or the dancing sign holder at the corner. They don’t laugh together at the little boy trying to somersault in the middle of the room or the secretary that drops a pile of papers. Each is in his or her own little realm boxed off from the tax office-world they share, and no matter how long they are stuck with us they won’t break out.
They have their classes, but I have to wonder when the momentary circumstances are leveled why they still impose those positions upon themselves.  It seems as if class is not merely a socio-economic placing, but that these individuals manage to rate and teach themselves to stay in this role when it really isn’t necessary.

Those that are making the least in the room choose to condescend themselves as if I will look poorly on the income they made, will think it is wrong to be employed where they work, or will judge them poorly for living where they do.  In response to their own judgments of themselves they slouch, do not make eye-contact, speak quietly, or even blush or tremble. They minimize their existence as if they have less permission to it than those that appear to make more than they do. And that really is it. Appearances have an enormous impact on the “class” these people teach themselves that they belong to, and how much “class” they think they are allowed to show.
Because at the front desk I am wearing slacks and a blouse it is assumed I am their superior when really the majority of the clients have made more and work much harder than I do. If I say something about tax I must be right, there is no dissention, even if they have paid their mortgage for years and I have never had one. I’m granted a “class”, a status, which I’ve not even earned.  It is like the teacher walking into the classroom, because I happen to be at the front of the room it is decided that I must be the expert instructor. Positioning and perception does so much to determine the metaphysical station I hold. These perceptions prove fatal to engaging in conversation or any communication at all.

On the opposite extreme, are those with “more class” and of a “rank beyond me.” I am the simple secretary, and they have more important people to speak with. In their perception I cannot have anything to contribute to them as they have already surpassed me.
Of course they have, they have more years of life and experience to draw from however in the process they’ve traded in the value of a pupil’s mind. There is something to be gained from the perspective of life’s student and the way that student learns. I have a view they cannot regain, and the unsullied mind is a currency of its own.

If the office is a classroom each client takes notes on where they ought to fit. They find their desk, pick their “group members”, and only trade homework and accept input from the students that they like, or deem can contribute the most to them. The value of teaching others is not there, and yes, we usually pay the teachers, but that is but one type trade we make and the teacher is only paid for how he or she can lead the student. It takes a teacher to teach, but also a student to learn. There are two parts to the equation, and neither has a place without the other.

But anyway, they don’t really teach themselves tax in the waiting area. That’s why they’ve come to the office, because they want or need our help and resources. They teach themselves about themselves, and practice their lessons by silence. I’m not sure they all realize they are choosing not to learn, or maybe they simply think they like the lessons they already have better than the potentials. But they are created equal, and brought themselves to the equal place to work on the taxes they all have. I wish the barriers they’ve invented on the basis of inequality could but put aside. It’s just a waiting area, just a tax office, just a few hours. What more stability and commonality do they need to brave a little communication? Let me correct myself, a little more open communication. Because their postures and total neglect of each other send some messages loud and clear.

Maybe I am wrong. I thought that being human was commonality enough for us to interact with each other, and that by bringing people to a place where that commonality would be deeper and the “classroom” was the same relation to each other could occur more frequently.
But I know that I am not. I still see those people that give me hope, the ones that don’t mind that they’ve still got wet cement stuck to their pant legs, they’ll sit and chat with the elegant woman in pearls. And the child of the affluent couple that tugs on the apron of the MacDonald’s fry cook and asks if she’s met the Hamburglar. Or the 16 year old teen paying his way and staying with Grandma that asks if I’d like to go out sometime. They get it. We’re all human, we’re all breathing, we all live in these things called bodies and interact in language and dwell in an economy that trades our work for money. Same government, same nation, and same nature we walk through every day. Those individuals likely don’t need the sameness though. They know the world is a classroom and we’re all in it, and they don’t mind where the lesson comes from because they are aware nobody decided there was a certain subject they had to learn.  They don’t classify, or if they do, they can put it aside for a little while and not practice to themselves who they can interact with and how, or what standards can judge or place them .

While a single tax office is not the best representation of the demographics available in America, and definitely not the world, as a whole, every model requires some simplification and this is mine.

They all have taxes, and they have finite lives. Enough equalizing? I think more than enough. Let’s try to quit being “classy”, get out of our own leagues, suspend grading, and stop trying to sort everyone. I’ll start in the tax office and I encourage you to start somewhere. There are differences, I will never deny that, but when we broaden our perspectives we can turn the scale horizontally, and realize it’s not a matter of some being further above or below us, but some just being further away from us. There is only one expert on every individual’s life, and so I advise we discontinue this habit of missing our opportunities to share discourse with so many experts, because too frequently we only receive that one opportunity.

When We Get Too High

I had been talking about different "scales" of evaluation for the world in a group project recently and found some of the group members becoming too academic. It seems they frequently fall into a mindset that to save the world they they must remove themselves from it while contrarily the gospel tells us to still be "in the world" while simultaneously "not of it".
So anyway, a good point I still see here is that God has left us on earth for a reason, not taken us at our moment of salvation and submission to Him as Lord, so let's be in the world. We've been up to the heights but just like Moses, we must come down....hopefully faces shining bearing words of the Lord. Here you'll see I say we can go too high, I know it won't directly apply to you readers, but maybe it will be interesting to you anyway...some insight to my life and the project either way.

So here begins my rant.

There is another type of scale I’ve not  yet mentioned, the type of “scale” you would use to climb a mountain. It is interesting because when I imagine one approaching an obstacle, be it wall, fence, or mountain, the first thing one does it “scale it up”, meaning, give it a good look and determine, is it feasible to mount and move up and over? Once the obstacle has been “scaled” by the eye, the actual movement must occur. Be aware, however, that in many cases, the object of focus is not actually an obstacle but instead a desired look-out place, a “high place” that carries a purpose to climb in its own.

So if in this case the object was an obstacle, once “scaled” one can continue upon their journey, see their environment from a higher perspective, reach the other side, and carry forth.
But in the case of the object being the goal, a mountain-top-moment can be had. The significance depends upon the individual, or though I’ve not yet mentioned it, the group of individuals, but the point being the view has been seen, the mountain crossed over, the caves and crevices explored, the hidden valleys played in, the silent deer observed, the fresher air breathed, and the heavens made that small bit closer as the grandeur, the “scale”, of it all is taken in.

But of course, can it all really be taken in? Or do the details and realities become a little more obscure, a little smaller, and a little easier to ignore? The ragged marks humanity tears into the world and each other become less terrifying when we travel high enough. Perhaps it the the purity of air we are simply unaccustomed to that lightens our heads, or perhaps it the fog and clouds of the mysteries we are not usually a part of that haze our view, but to take those “high” experiences and apply them to the place we know of need we must come down. If we do not, we shall soon forget the valleys and plains we left, the common places that are not the mountain, and need tending to.  To forget these worlds will mean also to forget the amazement at the mountain.

When tarrying too long on the mountain, surrounded in the beauty and wonder we lose touch with that world we’re from, instead of sojourning we become stagnant. At this point we are the decay of the mountain rather than the “salt” working as preservers to the earth.
There is one final thought to consider. To have climbed the mountain is an accomplishment. Rocks crags and inclines are not easy to traverse. It takes time and work, it means becoming covered in the makings of the mountain as you go and abandoning the structures of your ordinary abode to make bed in grasses beneath the stars…grasses you share with hundreds of other creatures, many of which you do not know. Climbing the mountain is not always comfortable, but it is good. And when the trek has been made it is an experience to tell and share. It is an impressive experience, one many choose not to endeavor for.

I ask now, what if one had taken a rocket? Journeyed to the moon, blitzing past the hills and mountains, piercing clouds, and splitting atmosphere to land on that pearly sphere that circuits us?

You would have an experience, that is certain. You would have been higher than any mountain climber had ever been before, and would have been chosen more selectively than the one that decided to climb the mountain. You would have been beyond the mountaineer, and in a faster more radical way. But should you sit down with one that had scaled a mountain and compared your journeys, I think you would find your experiences in lack.

Reading you may think I am comparing things that ought not to be compared, the man who climbed the mountain had an entirely separate venture than the one that shot to the moon, and to this I say, yes, precisely.

Their ventures were separate, and no astronaut should claim to know a mountain. He may have been beyond it and seen the peak where it lay in the collection of ranges and how it integrated to the landscape of that continent when compared in its stretch beyond nations and timezones and all the constructs of man…but the fact remains, he does not know the mountain. And he cannot until he has chosen to be humble, and take it on. To be humble is to have accurate picture of oneself in the scheme of what is bigger, that means an awareness of both the good and the bad. The failings and the victories, but all these from the sight of the Creator, who’s forces move make and maintain all that is with-in and with-out.

To make change upon our world we must be mountaineers not astronauts, and good mountaineers at that. The ones that go up, and observe and sign to memory the beauty and wonder of what is beyond but come back to share that, and guide others up the mountain as well. We must be good in that we do not hide in the hills and separate ourselves, only to let other qualified mountaineers get past our door, but rather go out, seek, knock for ourselves upon other doors and invite, teach, and guide and show the things that are bigger and that we in our words cannot possess.

We cannot be astronauts, because, let’s face it, not everyone can hop on a rocket. But the experience of the mountain can be had. It is not a matter of settling, but a matter of knowing what first we can do.