LOVE

Love is cultural . . . in some sense. Some cultures think it comes before marriage, some after. Sometimes, it’s just a semantic difference where different people and groups use the same word “love” to mean different things.

I’ve learned that some actions or concepts are neutral. A good example is audibly burping in public after a meal. And then different cultural place evaluative judgments on such actions or concepts. In that example, some cultures might find such excess gas rude; others may see it as a sign of thanks. Beyond that, I’ve actually learned that some aspects of culture are negative regardless of how that culture views it; a good example is beating your wife or preventing girls from attending school. Some aspects of cultures are positive no matter how others view it. So even though the understanding of love is cultural, I’ve learned there are better understandings of what it is and how to provide. Most recently, I’ve learned in my own life that the truly best understanding of it isn’t anything emotional at all, but a decisive commitment, a gift, a choice, a decision, a commitment. Sometimes, you won’t find out that love isn’t actually there until you get to something that a person cannot handle or chooses not to handle, then that limiting occurrence uncovers the fact that it wasn’t full commitment.

Better than me talking about love, I thought I’d share 3 stories of love to show it’s cultural (mis)understandings and deeper understandings.

The first is a story of a woman who met a man in India and their relationship.

The second is a guy who admits he did not love his wife when he married her. He uses love in the same way I do.

The third is a segment of This American Life called Unconditional Love, which talks about love between parents and children.

Enjoy.

HE KNOWS MY NAME

I spent my last week in India crying quite a bit. Nothing was really wrong; it’s just that I would stand and teach for 8 hours a day and, afterwards, I would come home, take notes on everything that happened for the last 8 hours, test out the lab for the next day, prepare to teach the lesson the next day, and answer student questions and queries by email. To answer your question, no, it’s not supposed to be like that. When you pilot a course or some training material, it’s better to have one person teach, another keep time (testing your estimated timings), and another to observe and take notes. I had to take notes in my head for 8 hours and then quickly try to remember and write everything down at night. Needless to say, each day I worked two 8-hour shifts. (Don’t worry, I collect all those travel work nights as future holidays.)

For my second 8-hour shift, at home at night, I would work with the TV, my good friend. Because my Hindi, stinks I watched an English channel that would play a new episode of Packed to the Rafters (Australian show), Joey and Molly (US TV), Grey’s Anatomy and Homeland each day. The show that really made me cry was Grey’s Anatomy. Has anyone seen this show? While in India I saw the season during which one doctor gets cancer and another gets in an accident after deciding to become an army medic. They usually showed the episode 4 times a day, so I had ample times to watch. I just kept thinking “how can one hospital have SOO much drama among the doctors (forget about the patients)? It’s unreal!” It was staggered, amazed, appalled, gripped, and sad. I would laugh at myself crying over these fictional characters while preparing to cry over the laughter of real life characters the next day—students laughing in discomfort as they struggled with a topic. J

And they did struggle. The course I had to pilot had 3 prerequisites. A majority of the students were missing at least one of the 3 prerequisites. Many were missing 2. And some were missing all 3. So imagine the task ahead of me each week. I made the decision not to worry about finishing the course but to cover each topic well and finish wherever we finished. I didn’t think anyone cared or noticed, but a few students walked up to me after the second week and thanked me for doing teaching that way, instead of pushing through. Again, it was a moment that took me aback. Students have never thanked me for that before, not explicitly. It was nice.

It was also nice to receive the keys to my room. After a week of people entering my room while I was in the toilet or changing (I think in India the concept of personal space is not as strong as it is in other cultures), a key to my room suddenly appeared! This was great news because it meant that I could have some personal space to scrape off the white film on my skin from the defective soap. Yes, the soap my guesthouse made me purchase finished, so I was back to using their soap which turned my skin white with each shower. Don’t worry, it only added 15 minutes to my morning routine. Luckily no one knew what my normal complexion is, so no one complained. In fact, they thought I had pretty skin. I couldn’t claim credit, though; it was the soap. I only hope I can still have children in the future.

If you haven’t read about my adventures in my guesthouse you should read my first post on it. On the whole, the adventures were fun and made me laugh. After awhile, I even let go and decided to use my towel to dry myself without reservation. Previously I was careful while drying so I could avoid two spots on the towel where someone had blown their nose. Now, I didn’t care. I just dried myself. Sometimes it’s nice to be dry and dirty, than wet and clean. . . No? . . . Maybe it’s just me.

My favourite part of the day was mealtime. I would sit with the guesthouse manager and a staff member of the university or an employee of the guesthouse. And for the most part I would eat silently while they talked. Occasionally I was included in the conversation temporarily and then immediately forgotten. But for that one moment—when I could answer a question with my accent that the guesthouse manager couldn’t understand—for that one moment, I enjoyed being seen, though not understood. Then I would slip back into anonymity. It wasn’t real anonymity but it sometimes felt like it from my different cultural lens. I think speaking your home language in front of a foreigner is not considered rude, here. I had no sense that they felt they were being rude at all. It was just natural for them to speak Hindi and there was no thought of me feeling awkward or marginalised. And so because there was no intent, I didn’t feel awkward or marginalised.

The biggest reason I felt included was because the university staff and guesthouse manager called me by name. They knew my name. One of my favourite gospel artists, Israel Houghton, has a song called “He Knows My Name.” At first I didn’t understand the importance of the concept. But when, again, it was the last day of my last week in India, and the students were hugging me, taking photos with me, and telling me they will miss me, I began to wonder about why they would miss me. Why were they touched so much? The students told me.

“Sir, instructors here don’t know our names. If an instructor knows your name, it’s only after 4 months and many one-on-one interactions. Usually, if you are addressed at all, it is by number.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I can see how that can be hard.”

“Yes, sir. And you learned our names on the first day! That was amazing.”

“Well, yes, it’s important to me to try and do that. I know people like to hear their names.”

“Yes, sir, we do like to hear our names. It makes us feel special. Sir, you must be knowing some Hindi because you seem quite comfortable learning the names and saying some of the pronunciation.”

“Well, I’m new to it, but some of the names I’ve heard before.”

“Well, sir, thank you. Thank you for knowing my name. It is so nice to have a professor and to be able to say ‘He knows my name’. It’s more than feeling special. We’re feeling special, yes. But it’s that we couldn’t hide. You knew us. You called us by name. You saw us. We were visible to you. We had to participate. We could not hide. That is something we have not experienced. Thank you so much.”

The words humbled me. Honestly, I didn’t know most lecturers didn’t know them and that if a lecturer did address them, it was by number. I didn’t know it took 4 months in the few cases when a lecturer did know them. And I didn’t know it was easy to hide and not be seen. If anything I thought being seen in my class would be uncomfortable. And it was, at first, for them. But in the end they were thankful that someone saw them, heard them, and wanted to hear them. In the end, they were thankful that the professor cared enough to screw up their names, to know their beautiful names, to ask where they were yesterday, to ask if they recovered from being sick, to ask how the homework went even if they didn’t do it. And I am thankful for all the many teachers I have had who did the same for me.

Mrs. Bergeron—she knows my name. She said I had a voice to say something.

Ms. Taylor—she knows my name. She first called me an artist.

Mr. Seible—he knows my name. He called me a leader.

Mrs. Williams—she knows my name. She first called me a teacher.

Ms. Young—she knows my name. She first called me creative.

And the list goes on . . .

He knows my name . . .

OPEN QUESTIONS: PEACE

I took a negotiations course a few years ago, and sitting in the course, both the book and the instructors made negotiations seem as if it was a type of science that you follow. If you do these 6 steps and remember to emphasise these 3 goals and always look for this one 1 concept, you will almost always be able to reach a successful negotiation that makes both sides happy. So the obvious question arises in me, and someone always inevitably asks,

“If these methods are so good, how come you don’t use it in the Israeli-Arab conflict and bring peace to the Middle East?”

Then the facilitators (and authors of negotiations books) have to dial down expectations and explain that it is not full proof. Rather it increases the likelihood that you will reach an agreement suitable to both parties. But the question still nags at me. How does one bring peace to the Arab-Israeli conflict? How does one bring peace to any recurring conflict between large people-groups and nation-states? Is it possible?

Looking at all of the conflict going on in the world today, I’m still amazed at our human inability to wipe it out from the face of the earth and future history. It always comes back. New people are born, new challenges arise, and new conflicts brew (or old ones reawaken). Peace, though a solution, is still a mysterious quality that is more of a question than a solution these days. I’m reminded of Martin Luther King Jr.’s journey through the possibilities of peace.

When MLK was looking for a method that could wipe out social evil, he “despaired of the power of love to solve social problems. The turn-the-other-cheek and the love-your-enemies philosophies are valid. . . only when individuals are in conflict with other individuals; when racial groups and nations are in conflict, a more realistic approach is necessary.” It was only after studying the life and teachings of Gandhi that he realized the true power of satyagraha—truth-force or love-force. King then saw the ability of love through nonviolence as a potent tool in the struggle for freedom. However that was between groups of people and a government. What about nation to nation?

King realized the need for the method of nonviolence in international relations, but has it ever been done successfully and well? He believed in war as a negative good but then thought that humanity’s powerful technology ruled out war ever being a negative good—the potential destruction is just too great. He thought the choice was between nonviolence or nonexistence. So my question to you today is this: Is it possible to do the turn-the-other-cheek method as one nation to another? How does it work? Would any nation be prepared to take the risk and the hurt?

I do mean risk. Sometimes people think turn-the-other-cheek or love-your-enemies doesn’t involve getting burned. No, love always involves getting vulnerable and sometimes burned. Many people suffered and died during nonviolent resistance movements with Gandhi, King, and Mandela. If you turn your other cheek, it could be slapped. It’s ok if I want to love my enemies as an individual person because I am willing entering myself into a risky situation, but how can a prime minister of a country decide that for an entire country—not just to eschew fighting back but actively love in the face of violence? Is it possible? Is it practical? Is it right?

This question has been on my mind because of Syria’s current plight, the raging civil war there. I tried to consider what would be the equivalent of loving-your-enemies as a nation. What would that look like? I then wondered if it would be something akin to three hundred million Americans flying to Syria and putting themselves on the front lines and saying to the government or the rebels “in order to kill the other, you must kill me.” Of course, this might not stop either side. But after awhile, after killing thousands of Americans to get to the other, you realize what you’ve become. You come face-to-face with what you are doing, and you stop. However, in the process you have lost thousands of people. The hard part about love-your-enemy as a nation, is that you have to have the entire nation “on board,” giving their heart to the cause, just as you. I don’t think it can be forced.

Now it’s a silly example and easily derided by any reader, but the question is what does it look like to do it as a nation? What does it like when your nation has just been attacked by terrorists? What does it look like when your nation has been attacked by domestic terrorists? Is such a nation-wide love possible? Does it exist? Have you seen it work and bring about peace? I don’t know. But I welcome your responses.

TWO GUYS

I wrote about two guys who I like a whole bunch, two of the best I know. I wrote that section so quickly that I left a few things out. John, the friend who epitomizes humility, is more special because he incarnates submission. The word submit can be broken into two parts—sub, meaning under, and mit meaning push/send (remit, submit, transmit, etc.). I like etymology so when I hear the word “submit” I picture getting under and pushing (someone or something) up. John does this. Around John everyone is a winner. And it takes a skill or a heart that can see people well enough to see what is good in each of them. In fact, though people have negative connotations of the word or act “judgment,” that is actually what it is in the very best sense. He judges a person weighing all parts, burning up the bad and saving and redeeming the good. And let me tell you, it works. When someone burns away your mistakes or your hard edges and just loves on you encouraging your wells of water or your stores of nutrition, it’s a type of judgment that saves. It saves you for a better day and a better life. It changes the one who is being celebrating and brings out the good and transforms. (see the section on Obama and Osama)

Mark is special, also, because he has a habit of only saying what he means. This might sound strange as if everyone does it, but many of say things we don’t mean. I know I do this. Mark is quite careful with his words. And I’ve been struggling with this because I’ve been trying to reconcile the words of a friend lately. I haven’t been able to, so that tension has been bothersome. But Mark says exactly what he means and means what he says. This is a bit novel to me, but I appreciate it so.

SPARKS - Week 3

Week 3

Well, if you’ve been following along the SPARKS challenge, you’ll know at this point I was at week 3. And since I wanted all my SPARKS to have a trajectory where one risk leads to the next one, I looked at what I learned from Mike, the man I met and with whom I had a meal. Mike inspired me with his lack of anger or bitterness or even sadness with his ex-wife who cheated on him with his best friend while he was trucking along the east coast, doing his job. So I decided that I wanted to work on myself and have a healthier state after my last relationship.

I’ve always been a person who loved without desiring love, but it was very important to one woman I dated to desire love (and it’s natural). So I did. But desires create attachment and produce suffering. Though I don’t fully understand what happened, it ended, and I was ok because if you love someone you let them be happy with or without you. Then I was told I didn’t love because I wasn’t miserable. Then I became miserable. Then I was told get a grip it’s just a person. Interesting.

Regardless, I’m used to practicing detachment to things, and listening to Mike I was amazed at his detachment. After talking to Mike I spoke to a friend and she reminded me what love does. She said she learned to “be love and not desire it.” And that was it. The moment I heard that and did it (that very day), the burden of weighty emotion began to subside immediately. My only job was not what was done to me or how but to be love as it always was, as it was when I continually offered to put the person’s happiness before my desire to be in relationship. So I took a risk, not really wanting to communicate; I took a risk and communicated by phone, email, and Skype and let the person know that I begrudge nothing, resent not. My total goal is to be love and if you’re happy and healthy away from me, without me, and apart from me then that’s great. It makes me happy that this person finally found that wherever or with whomever it was. It’s good to communicate such things, better yet to live them.

SPARKS

Week 2

Each week I hold a community dinner. Now, many weeks it doesn’t happen which my roommate points out. But what he misses is that it’s not important how it ends (we encourage risk and celebrate in failure) or if people decide to come, rather it’s important to try. And I do try. However, I’ve been bothered more and more by the words of a particular Jewish man who lived during the Greco-Roman empire. And those words encourage people to throw a party (dinner party or banquet) for people who cannot pay you back. Now I’ve had trouble understanding this man as I’ve learned to take some of his literal words figuratively and some of his figurative language literally. Currently, I think this was one of the ones you actually could take quite literally (and learn figurative things in the process). Throwing a party for people reminds me of our culture, where it’s (not) really love to give to someone whose will first feel obligated to return it and will then repay it. Giving with the expectation of return. But can you give when there will be no direct or tangible or visible return because the receiver is incapacitated?

Well, I was challenged. After all, I hold a weekly community dinner. Though it doesn’t happen every week due to cancelations or scheduling, I sure do cook and host a lot of friends who ask to bring food or wine, who try to take me out to dinner, who actually try to give me money for the meal, and who invite me over to return the favor. Why wasn’t I hosting and cooking for people on the street? Now, if I had a place where I had full reign I could easily do that. But I don’t live alone and have to be respectful of everyone’s comfort. So in place of doing my first choice, I decided my spark for the week would be to take a homeless person out to dinner.

What is different than what I normally do is that I would not just buy them food and give it to them (where is the love in that? You can do all kinds of good, humanitarian, beneficial things without love). No, I would take them out to dinner, that means we would share bread and, in the process, lives. We would actually relate. Now in my experience and work, homeless people are most starved of relationship, more than food or clothing or shelter. And it’s this I wanted to give over a meal. I would invite a homeless person in a restaurant (in times past, friends I’ve met on the street don’t want to come into a restaurant due to embarrassment) and we would sit and share our stories. So that’s what I did.

I knew exactly where I was going and who I would take to dinner—this particular man who has an engaging theatrical voice when asking people to buy the DC newspaper that helps the homeless. On my way there, I saw another homeless man begging, and I knew I had to stop. This man’s name is Mike Venables. Mike begs outside the subway stop at my building. I asked him if he wanted to get some food. He said sure. The closest place was Quiznos which he chose. I would later find out he went there a lot. So we went in and we ordered food in line. Mike is a boisterous character and doesn’t worry about politeness when ordering his food, sometimes feeling like the workers cheat him out of enough lettuce, tomatoes, or meat. So Mike always asks for more. I don’t think the workers are supposed to do that, but they did it today as Mike said “Put some more pickles on that. Come on!” It makes me laugh even now.

After we got to the end of the line and our toasted sandwiches were handed to us, I paid and asked Mike if I could join him and have dinner with him. He said sure. He was surprised, but he welcomed it. And we sat down and began to eat and talk. We sat the “man” way, side-by-side on a long bar-table with stools facing the window.

We talked and listened. Well, mostly he talked, and I listened. And most of the conversation was that way. I was trying to engage in a bit of performance art if you’ll allow me to reappropriate the term. You see, Mike and I come from two different backgrounds, socioeconomic levels, regions, and education levels. And in relating to him I was hoping that for an hour we could wash that away as if those differences didn’t exist. But I was very aware while talking that he was a homeless man with very little money and no family and I was a rich man who bought him a meal.

Then something strange happened. Mike had finished telling me about his plight on the streets, and I asked about his family. He spoke about his mother in the hospital. But the strange thing is his response to my question about siblings. He said he had one brother in the DC area. And his brother is a pastor.

“If he’s a pastor I don’t want no part of any of that God stuff.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I see what kind of pastor he is. I seen him when he was in seminary studying to get his degree, all the stuff he was doing with women.”

“Oh, you mean he was doing questionable things?”

“Puuuleeease. That guy ain’t no man of God. If you a man of God, ain’t you supposed to lay hands on men and women?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Then why does he only lay hands on women?” We both laughed.

“Really?”

“I mean, I went to one of his “bible studies,” I was the ONLY man in there!” We both laughed more.

“He has a ministry to the women, and I’ve seen what he does with them. Always trying to show them the power of God and God’s thunder.” Laughing, “I don’t want no part in that.”

It was strange, but that was the first time we had laughed while talking, and when we laughed it was as if the flood gates were opened, the draw bridge lifted, and the temperature relaxed. We laughed and laughed.

“I mean all he wants to show women is the power of God.” We laughed more. “God’s thunder.”

We laughed. And it was in the moment of laughing that I felt us become two men. We actually seemed to float from the restaurant, the two stools, the food. We left the labels given to us by the world and each other. We left it all. And we were just two people sharing a joke.

And then it happened once more in a deeper way. After telling me the story of his brother who doesn’t want to have anything to do with him, he mentioned an ex-wife.

“Yeah, you see I would drive trucks and so I would be on the road a lot going up the east coast. And she was back there in Florida. I guess she got bored or tired or something. But she found another man and cheated on me while I was away trying to help provide.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you still upset? When did this happen?”

“This happened last year. But it’s cool. People can do what they want. She’s a grown woman. The strange thing is that she cheated on me with a friend of mine. Out of ALL the guys she could have chosen, she chose my best friend. Now does that make any sense?”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So then you’ve been very angry.”

“Naw, I’m not angry.”

“What? Not even a little bit.”

“Naw, she’s a grown woman. She can do what she wants to do. Why she had to choose my best friend, I don’t know. But she can make her own decisions. We just got a divorce. I wasn’t mad one bit, not one bit, not even once. Why am I gonna be mad at her? What do I have to be mad at her about?”

Now it was in this moment that the conversation took a turn because I had a recent break-up at the time, and not only did I not understand what had happened due to seemingly contradictory messages or inadequate (perhaps only for my brain and mind) explanations, but I had a lot of people accusing me of not doing the right thing or doing the wrong thing. And at the time I had visceral moments of anger which I tempered or eliminated immediately by quickly counting the blessings from the relationship and putting myself in the other person’s shoes. But it would come back again later and I would counteract it again.

What was amazing to me was that this man was claiming he felt no anger and was never upset after someone willingly broke a vow and decided not to hold on to the commitment they had. I wanted to know his secret. The reason the topic changed the conversation is that I was mostly listening or asking questions, and he was happy to talk. But now I wanted to know . . . I wanted to know what he thought or if. . . if he had any advice or . . . help . . . .

“You know I had a recent break up where I was left. . .”

And I told a very short version of some story to say I’ve been there. And he listened. And he shared why he wasn’t mad and I listened, and it was in this moment, we stopped being rich man who buys a meal and poor man who eats it. We were two guys who had similar experiences or feelings of being left. . . .where one was showing how a new way is possible, a way without anger. We were just two brothers sharing life together. And that’s when I learned it is possible to ignore class and levels in a moment. One of my purposes in life is to extend those moments as long as I can with as many people I can starting with the outcast, the marginalized, the minimized, and the oppressed. Thanks, Mike.

THE GIFT

Today Mike and I are friends. We’ll talk when we see each other which usually means I’m headed home or to something after work and even though I’m going to be late, I still stay and talk to him. He trusts me. He gave me a card once to the person who schedules people at a particular shelter. He wanted me to look into it since the guy wasn’t getting back to him (I’m not sure how, I don’t think Mike has a phone).

But my interaction with Mike makes me think about giving. Now, there are certain philosophical schools of thought that would say we’re all hedonistic or epicurean-like in that we do everything for selfish reasons. If we help someone build a house, clean up the yard of an elderly woman, adopt an orphan, or give money to the poor we do so for selfish reasons. We want to get an award; it looks good on our resumes; others think more highly of us; it makes us feel good; etc. The tough portion about disagreeing with this particular philosophical conclusion is that it’s perpetually defensible. How do you show you’ve done something for an unselfish reason when it can always look good or feel good to do something for someone else or when there were always invisible strings or conditions attached? Imagine a person who gives all kinds of wonderful gifts to a beloved in the name of love. Then when the relationship is over, what happens? This same person might demand certain gifts back evincing that the gifts were never unconditional gifts but gifts given on the condition that the receiver would continue to love the giver in return. Is there a way to commit a real act of love or really give?

Good question. The next attempt to get around this problem is to give without the receiver knowing who gave. Nice. This avoids receiving pleasure from the gratitude of the receiver since the gift is anonymous. However, there is still the joy of knowing the recipient is grateful to someone and that you have made someone happy.

So perhaps a purer gift (our next attempt) would not just be an anonymous gift, but perhaps a gift where nothing is given. A good example of this by philosopher Rollins is forgiveness. When Marcius has wronged you, you can offer forgiveness to Marcius, and you will have given nothing (no thing) because forgiveness is not a thing. The problem, though, is that you can receive personal pleasure from knowing that you did the right thing, looking spiritual, or having Marcius’s apology accepted. So then you might add the first criteria, anonymity, to the act of giving nothing and try to offer forgiveness without telling the offender or without the offender knowing that they have been forgiven. Now this avoids satisfaction from seeing the offender have his apology accepted or seeing you as a super spiritual person. But this anonymous gift of nothing still suffers from the fact that you can feel self-satisfaction or pride for having done something amazing.

So then you can add a third criteria. Give anonymously so the receiver doesn’t know who gave; give nothing; and give anonymously so the giver doesn’t know a gift was given. Huh? This is hard to explain but imagine giving a gift without knowing you’ve given anything. In this way you give a gift so naturally it’s like breathing. At times you don’t notice your breathing. Or giving is second nature like the beating of your heart or the regulation of hormones in your body. It’s natural, constant, continual, and steady. It’s done without thought. This is the type of giving you see evidenced in a woman's life when she is thanked for something and she, the giver, responds “For what?” This is true love of God – a love that gives with the same reflex that causes a bird to sing. It’s a love that gives money to a beggar on the street without stopping to think if he should give or gives of its time to someone who is in pain or in the hospital without any thought that this is any different or special from any other act on any other day. That’s love. And it’s shown not to the loveable but to the unlovable. The trouble is, you can’t simply choose for the reflex to be there. It comes about in another way which we may talk about later.

When one can do the works of virtue without preparing, by willing to do them, and bring to completion some great and righteous matter without giving it a thought – when the deed of virtue seem to happen by itself, simply because one loved goodness and for no other reason, then one is perfectly virtuous and not before.

-Meister Ekhart, quoted in “How (Not) To Speak of God”

The Book Of Love

by Peter Rollins



There is an ancient legend that speaks of God’s struggle to guide the destiny of humanity. It is said that God had grown tired of the way that mortals constantly lose their way, creating disasters as they go. So he sent out his angelic messengers to gather together the timeless wisdom contained in the world and to place this wisdom in a multitude of books that would be housed in a great library—a library that mortals could use in order to work out how they should live and act in the world.
When, after many millennia, the great task was completed, the colossal library stood proudly in one of the world’s great cultural capitals, dominating the skyline. However, this huge building contained too many books for any individual to read. It was all but impossible to reach for the majority of people, and the library’s sheer size was enough to put anyone off even entering it. So God demanded that his couriers compress the essential wisdom into a single encyclopedic book.

Once completed, this single work was widely circulated, but the manuscript was so huge that one could hardly lift it, let alone read it or put what it said into practice. So yet again God put his couriers to work, crafting a booklet with all the essential information. But the people were lazy and there were many who could not read, so the booklet was refined into a single word, and that word was sent out on the lips and life of a messenger.

And the word?

It was love.


******
I was reflecting on this story recently when I most recently heard that someone felt I was maligning the character of God. So this made me reflect on God at what is God in God’s essence. This story reminds me that all the various rules, laws, creeds, ethics can be boiled down to one word and simultaneously arise from that word. This word wasn’t just the central message of Jesus but it was incarnated by Jesus. Sometimes when I try to dial down the position of belief in faith, people get upset. In no way do I forget that faith is expressed in love. I know this. It’s from a real desire to come to terms what this world means that we come up with theories, laws, theologies, creeds, rules. The problem is when these very structures meant to help us understand the world and the event of God become unyielding.

So at the same time that love motivates us to seek solutions to environmental problems, political issues, and ethical problems in the world, love also motivates us to question the very solutions that we have found to see if these political, environmental, and ethical solutions actual do liberate us from the shackles of these problems. Without love, the political and ethical systems become oppressive and rigid. Without love, we become dogmatic and didactic legalists, serial ritualists who follow books and creeds without regard for human life and the true purpose of those books and creeds.

Remember the law always falls short of justice, the ideal to which it leans. If it did not, we would never need to test it or probe it to see if it delivers the justice of its intent and then amend it when we realize it doesn’t.

The Third Mile

by Peter Rollins

One day a small group of disciples who had embraced the way of Jesus early in his ministry heard him preaching by the side of a dusty road. As they crowded round they heard Jesus say, “The law requires that you carry a pack for one mile, but I say carry it freely for two.”

The disciples were deeply impressed by these words, for at that time a Roman solider had the legal right to demand that a citizen carry his pack for a mile as a service to the Empire. This teaching not only allowed the disciples to turn this oppressive law into an opportunity to demonstrate “kingdom” values, but also presented them with an opportunity to suffer in some small way for their faith.

As it was common for soldiers to evoke this law, the small band of believers soon developed a reputation for their actions. Roman soldiers would often hope that the citizens they asked to carry their packs would be among these disciples, and often a small bond of friendship would develop between a soldier and these followers of the Way.

After a year had passed this custom had become so established in the group that it became a defining characteristic of their shared life. The leaders would frequently refer to the teaching of Jesus and emphasize the need to carry a pack of the Roman soldier for two miles as a sign of one’s faith and commitment to God.
It so happened that Jesus heard about this community’s work, and, on his way to Jerusalem, took time to visit them. The leaders eagerly gathered all the members of the group to hear what Jesus would say. Once everyone had gathered, Jesus addressed them:

“Dear brothers and sisters, you are faithful and honest, but I have come to you with a second message, for you failed to understand the first. Your law says that you must carry a pack for two miles. My law says ‘carry it for three.’”

This story brings up the question of Biblical interpretation (there are many ways to look at this story). So to treat the Bible as a type of religious textbook that provides a sort of ethical framework telling us how to live in each and every situation requires that we approach it in a certain way. Usually this means we must mine the pages and try to discover the answers to specific questions in life or to specific situational uncertainties. Once you find the answers, one then can choose to act according to the textbook or blueprint or to violate it. At the same time, one can ask if the Bible can be read this way without doing Jesus’s teachings a disservice. So was Jesus advocating an approach like that where we open up scriptures for a concrete set of religious conduct or was he promoting a radically different Way of life?

What if it is the latter? What if he is offering a life of love that transcends religious codes of conduct? A religious code seeks to provide a way to work out or figure out what can be done in each situation. Contrastingly, love is never satisfied or constrained. Love doesn’t sit back but always does more than what is asked of love. Imagine a law that says to give 10% to the poor. The person who loves those who are poor will always give more than the required amount. Instead of waiting what out to be done or how much out to be given, the lover doesn’t wait but always gives in excess. The lover’s love exceeds the law and acts in the absence (very important as religious codes of conduct including the Bible, if interpreted as such, never address every situation we face today) of the law. Love fulfills the law by going above and beyond it.

So the story imagines what Jesus might say to the community that took Jesus’s words literally and enacted a religious law in order to follow it. By the instantiation of the law in order to follow Jesus’s words actually undermines the radical nature of it by missing the spirit of the words. The literal following failed to take the words seriously enough. Now we should still admire the ardor and passionate intent of this faithful band of brothers and eschew maligning them. But the example points to the real danger inherent in a literal rendering (at least for these words) and absorbing his living beyond the law back into the law.

So love goes further, beyond duty. The ethical question asks “What must I do?” The love response is “I will do more.” When the ethical guidance or compass doesn’t provide clear direction (and it by nature will have many of those times) love sets out anyway with clear direction, providing a way when there is no way. This is the love Jesus lived, a love that pushes harder and further than any law, a love that is more demanding than any rule or creed. This love experienced in a revolutionary life is faithful to the law by exceeding it.

A CHURCH THAT MALIGNS THE CHARACTER OF GOD

So as I said, I was reflecting on love because as I’ve heard before and heard recently again someone felt I was maligning the character of God. When I heard and read that, I responded “Yes I do malign the character of God.” I have done it in the past and I currently do it. Hopefully my understanding of the character of God is getting better in time, but I’m grateful for the knowledge or cognizance that my understanding of God or God’s character is incomplete, fractured, and wrong, yet hopefully improving.

The fact that I hear that means people probably don’t fully understand what I’m saying. I have been talking about a move away (a way) from orthodoxy as right belief (ortho – correct, doxy – belief) to a reverse reading from right to left as believing in the right way. In this way, yes we do believe certain things. Beliefs help us to navigate the world, make sense of it, and ponder the mystery of God in the aftermath of the event of God. But to claim that everything that I understand and believe about God, this life, the nature of our world, and the nature of the human spirit-body being is correct is too high and haughty a claim for me to make. I’ve gone too far; I’m too aware how wrong I’ve been, am, and will be. Rather, I believe and simultaneously disbelieve in what I believe knowing that in the future it may change. One way of looking at fundamentalism is based on how one believes and not the content. Fundamentalism can be said to be a way of believing in which one believes in what one believes. I believe and yet hold lightly what I believe while fundamentalism is a way of believing where one excludes all others in correspondence to the proportion with which others’ beliefs differ from one’s own.

For my sake and the sake of others, I’m glad right theology doesn’t mean I rightly know God or else I’d be in trouble.

So when I say wrong things and you feel I’m wrong, I agree. I agree with your disagreement and yearn and crave for more. One experience for me, however is that God is less concerned about my maligning his character are than those who believe they understand (the parts of God’s character I’m maligning) are. My experience is God’s concern with me living out love (believing in that way) and wrestling out faith. So I decided to imagine what I would love to see in a church.

My church would. . .

Spend more money on others than on themselves

Go beyond any seeming law (like in the statement above) and simply share EVERYthing they have. Instead of asking “how much do I give” they will share everything

Meets in buildings, spaces, and outdoor locations so as not to have to pay any fees such as utilities, where all money can go to do good works and redistributive justice

Would somehow have the ability to suspend class, race, economic differences (I’m inspired by the IKON community in Ireland and my conversation with Mike Venables in the Sparks section)

Would be as attractive to people as Jesus was (this paradox of people hating the church contradicts the historical Jesus who drew all kinds of people to himself)

Was completely open and inviting to people of different orientations, religions, nationalities, tribes, languages, ages, genders, etc.

Would involve others (including lay people) in the preparation of the sermon, so that we don’t hear a sermon that is the result of one person’s individual study but rather we hear a sermon that is the result of a community wrestling with a topic

Would use interactive discussions or at least a sermon with Q&A afterwards (Mark Driscoll does this sometimes)

Would not feature the sermon as the central point in our gathering, but would have all types of REGULAR gatherings

Would avoid the introspection – service divide, by having service work that simultaneously transformed the inside of people as well, a holistic church
Practice, taught, and lived a law of love rather than of rules not just on the visible or public level but even subconsciously and individually (currently working on what this looks like)

Engaged in art as a means to escape what words can’t describe (by art we look at Jesus’s creative use of short fiction (parables), poetry (Beatitudes), guerilla theatre (cleansing the temple, the triumphal entry into Jerusalem), performance art (healings, feedings, etc.; thanks to McLaren for this understanding)

There’s more, but I’ll stop here for now. . .

EMERGENCE

I didn’t mean to have a whole section on religion again, but it’s because someone had questions about me not being more expressive about friends who turn to atheism. Continuing with this understanding of the difference between God as God really is and God as I understand God, I’m reminding of this question of emergent thought. People always ask me “isn’t the emergent church a bunch of balderdash?” Normally, I would say it’s not a church; it doesn’t have a hierarchy or a denominational structure. It has no denominational manual to guide its actions. It doesn’t even have a set of written beliefs that instruct people on what to believe. No, it’s just a movement, I would say, of different voices. And if you criticize you must specifically criticize a specific person because they have different voices.

Well, I read the best analogy or actuality of what is emergent. It’s not a church or a denomination, but it’s also not a movement. It’s more properly called a conversation. I’m thankful for that reminder. It’s a conversation among disparate and disagreeing voices, but most importantly it’s a group of people who have felt comfortable enough to create a space in which people can struggle and wrestle with questions that don’t seem to be satisfyingly (intellectual, emotional, spiritual satisfaction) addressed by mainstream Christianity. But the voices themselves don’t agree. They offer up various interpretations and understandings. So when criticizing the group it’s important to criticize specific people since they don’t all believe the same points. But they are so willing to enter into conversation together, that you can find one person write a review on the first inside pages of a book of a person with whom he disagrees on some points.

I love this! In one way, it implicitly suggests there is something higher than belief or faith (and there is). They have found it and I want to experience and share in it; it’s called love. Secondly, it creates a place where, as I said before, it’s less about naming God and more about entering the space where God names you (experiential truth rather than descriptive truth).

Now most of these guys are obscure, some are academics (and academics always disagree and say crazy things. . . .well, sometimes). But I’m always quite curious when someone who is in the spotlight has the courage to ask a question and offer a different understanding contrary to mainstream belief. And that’s what happened with Love Wins. I normally don’t like to speak about controversial matters, especially when they don’t matter. But I know what it’s like to step out and put your neck out there for a cause, for family, for a friend, for a beloved one, for an enemy. And I know what it’s like to experience the onslaught of criticism and the silence of friends. So since I’m a friend of Bell, the author of Love Wins, I thought I would say how courageous he is and how I admire that.

Usually people consider Brian McLaren the “elder statesman” of the emerging conversation. But to be honest, there are many that have questions and thoughts though many would never say anything because they belong to orthodox churches or groups or lead them and it wouldn’t work. Some might lose their job or position. In the middle of all this is a pastor who has been steadily rising in visibility and influence (he has a widely popular video serious called Nooma used by all types of Christians). He normally writes suggesting stuff in the forms of hints or whispers. He doesn’t always write everything he thinks or push you all the way out of your comfort zone. So I used to read his books and wonder “I wonder if he’s holding back or thinks other things that are different than the mainstream.” I could give examples, but he has now written a book that questions the doctrine of hell. Remember people don’t like doctrine to be questioned. This is because doctrine is tied into belief. And for many people belief is central because it is identity forming. Belief determines who you are. Belief also determines where you go when you die. Not relationship, but belief. So it’s unsettling for a lot of people. And I wanted to say amidst the vast onslaught of negative criticism and silence of friends, that I admire Bell for asking the question and going there. I also admire Bell because he asks such questions not out of a sympathy for people who are not Christians or out of a desire to have a more convenient message. No, he asks because he’s actually seeking the truth. He studies hard and long and reads everything he can. He’s seminary-trained and he dives into the culture and context of the times. He’s coming with a fully armed knowledge base. No, it’s not soft, fluffy convenience. He’s rather trying to conform to the image of God he’s experienced in Jesus.

So let me end this section with the prompt for the book. Bell’s church recently had an art exhibition with artwork displayed around the church. One picture was a picture of Gandhi. Someone—no one knows who—decided to take a note and stick it under the painting of Gandhi. It read “News Flash: He’s in Hell!” Bell then asks “Really? Gandhi’s in Hell? And you know this for sure? And someone felt the need to share it with the rest of us?” Bell goes on to ask from where does the idea of hell come. How does it all work in the end? Is the central message of Jesus that God is going to send you to hell unless you are one of the select few who are saved from hell by Jesus? If that’s true, how are the select few chosen? Who decides who is in each group? And what happens to the rest of us?

It’s quite provocative and not new. The tough part of mainstream Christianity today is that there are plethora of diverse voices in the history of it, but many times we miss different understandings and interpretations because only one perspective maintains the dominant space in popular literature, movies, and sermons. That’s why it was so strange to see someone popular say something like that. But hey, as Bell would say don’t just accept what he says. Test it, prove it, wrestle with it, and probe it. “God has spoken. The rest is just commentary right?”

THE TWO BEST GUYS I KNOW

I just want to take a moment to honor two guys, John Linn and Mark Little. They are two of the best men I know (really people).

I don’t know how to explain John. He’s older than me but treats me often like I’m his older brother. John finds any moment and opportunity to give you a compliment not just on what you do but a praise for who you are. And he does this without trying or being obsequious. It’s natural for him. The reason that I like him is hard to articulate. In simple, he’s the person that I know who is most utterly aware of his messed up condition, his broken humanity, his need for grace. He wears vulnerability on his sleeve. I don’t know anyone who does it like he does it. He will tell you his brother needs a kidney transplant but he, himself, needs grace because he hasn’t always had a great/good relationship with his brother and that affects wanting to give his kidney. He’ll tell you that’s messed up and he knows he needs grace and knows he should give a kidney but that’s where he’s at. He’ll tell you he wants to keep his kidney. He’ll tell you that he does a lot of stuff he doesn’t want to do and the things he wants to do he doesn’t do. He’ll tell you you’re better than him. He’ll tell you he doesn’t know why the woman he’s with is with him and he never once means that in a self-deprecating way but in a truthful way. My goodness. He’ll see the beauty in everyone, meet them at their point of departure and contact and lift them back to life by showing his brokenness. He is drenched with the recognition of who is and it constantly prevents not just hero-worship but self-worship and egotism. Paradoxically, I admire him more. In an age when I’m used to having leaders who hide their faults to maintain their eligibility for leadership, I’m drawn to him as a man who shows his faults in order to say “Don’t follow me. Follow God.” At the same time he implicitly says “Don’t follow me in my actions. Only follow me in my honesty and vulnerability.” And he’s right. Honesty allows you to avoid pride and gives you the sight in order to be the site where change happens. Clear vision is the first step and he takes it and puts on a clock of humility as daily ritual. I really admire that and want to be like him.

The other guy I know is Mark. Mark is an enigma. Mark is real and has things he’s ok with people knowing and thing he doesn’t want people to know (we all do), but he has understanding of the entire human race. He has an understanding that we are all family. He understands that when he does something for you, you don’t have to pay him back, and he’s not looking for it. He understands, counter-culturally, that to say thank you and then offer money for the meal or gift rebukes and reduces and possible refutes the thanks. He understands that to say thank you and then say “I’ll get the next meal” or “I’ll have to have you over for dinner” is a context of “becoming even” when rather he lives in a context of love. Love doesn’t just forget any record of wrongs. Love keeps no record of rights. But very few people get that. He does, and in him is true love because there is no record keeping. Mark is also a person who is brutally honest. If you want a confidant, he’s the best kind. He won’t pull any punches. And often when I think that he is such a better man than me, so perspicacious he’ll poignantly tell me that we actually see things similarly that I just don’t think I do. When he says that, he doesn’t understand that that is the biggest compliment to me. Two of the best guys I know.

LOVE YOUR ENEMIES

Mark reminds me of love. When I was young, I learned about things that are good to do, and I thought I was good because I did them. But no I realize, that when you’re young a lot of times you lack the proper context for certain things. Faith needs doubt, love needs a decision, etc. And I didn’t really have enemies, or I didn’t know of them. So I thought I always loved my enemies.

Now, today I still walk around thinking I have no enemies. But I forgot that you can have enemies even if you yourself are not at odds with people. Anyone can set themselves up as your enemy whether you want to engage in a relationship of enmity with them or not. So I was reminded of this over the past few years when thinking of my time as a graduate student and my first advisor (whom I left). I’m reminded of him because he continues to academically harass (by this I mean find papers that I’ve published and then publish papers that discredit them or write a letter to the editor of the journal/mag to say how what I wrote was wrong or I cheated or stole). So I had to give another reply to a second paper he had written now about another article of mine from my thesis. It gets tiresome, but the lesson finally clicked for me. I have an enemy. This is where love is tested. If there really isn’t a decision to be made (check out the faith section above) have you really ever truly loved? If you haven’t been at the point where you don’t want to be in a relationship with this person because it’s hard work and there’s opposition every step of the way and you’re unsure, have you really ever decided to love (I’m not referring to the emotion here).

And so I was reminded of what I profess (which means nothing) and decide to incarnate it. In fact it’s been on my heart for a number of years of what I could do. So I sent an email to this person to initiate contact and asked if I could help set up interviews for him in DC with program managers to talk about grant money over which they presided (this is a legal meeting that serves to inform the professor/applicant about which avenue is best to apply for money and to help the program manager assigned the write reviewers to the application of the professor/applicant). We’ll see what he says. I know what I expect, but it doesn’t matter. I know the man, and I feel bad for him. But I don’t want to just feel bad for him I want to love him. So counter to people and friends who pray for his downfall (no joke) and would rather love him back to life. I want his life to be more than just vindictively trying to hurt most of his former students (meaning they left him or were kicked out without graduating under him). I want the place he goes to at night to be more than a house. I want him to find a greater joy in life than just he told me. “Do you know what gives me the greatest joy in life? It’s when I get in front of a group of people and say something they don’t know and they scurry to write it down.” I want him to understand there is more at home than what I’ve heard. “What is there at home for me? Nothing. All I have to do is give my wife a movie once a month and go shopping for food and she’s happy. After that I’m done.” I really do. And sympathy doesn’t cut it. I, too, know what it’s like to be in a place where you feel like you have no friend or the kids in school don’t like you (or maybe I don’t). But I hate that he’s grown up and it hasn’t changed for him. He’s done a lot of awful things which I haven’t disclosed, things that have messed up people for life, academically, professionally and psychologically. I’ve forgotten that I have an enemy. And I’ve remembered to show love. We’ll see what happens. I’m reminded of MLK’s words.

To our most bitter opponents we say: “We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws, because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. Throw us in jail, and we shall still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our communities at the midnight hour and beat us and leave us half dead, and we shall still love you. But be ye assured that we will wear you down by our capacity to suffer. One day we shall win freedom, but not only for ourselves. We shall so appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process and our victory will be a double victory."


There is so much truth to be unraveled in those words on so many levels that currently the only thing I can say to that is this: I love those words. Still they’re just words. But if I want them to be Words, I incarnate them.

WORDS

I’m smiling now as someone told me this week “You need to get grounded.” As much as I intellectually know the effect of words and that we seem hard-wired as humans to be susceptible to them, I still deal with it. Some people say words that water my soul while others tear it into pieces. Now, none of this may be purposeful but it happens. And I’m quite procedural about it these days. I know what I must due to counteract such words, and I do. But I still cannot avoid the need to deal with it and counteract with it. It’s like practicing medicine on yourself. You know what to do but the bruise or wound is still felt while you treat it.

The most interesting part of words for me is that words can affect me just as much as the removal or lack of words can affect me. Let me give an example. I used to date a girl (she’s a woman now) a number of years ago. And while together, in hopes of one day marrying me, she would say “I’m marrying the best man I know.” At first I didn’t believe this because how many people marry the best man you know? Really, it’s not important. The best man a woman knows can be her father, her mentor, a guru—it need not be her significant other. But here, this woman was saying that she chose the best man she knew. Eventually, those years ago, I believed it. One day, she left, and I realized those words aren’t true for her, at least most likely because you don’t leave the best man you know. Not good enough? I’ve a better example with a woman, from when I dated her, a number of years ago. From my warped perspective, we were a good couple but we faced problems from the outside due to families. For me, it was hard but didn’t change anything on the inside of our relationship, between us. For her it did. So I used to say, “If it would be better for you, less pain and strife, to be apart and not be with me, then that’s ok.” (Strangely I cared more for her happiness then for my happiness caused by her.) I would say something like that. She would say something like “With all the mess and messiness, with all the craze and craziness, with all the ridiculousness. . . . you’re worth it.” I, of course, have dressed up her comments, but that’s the essence. So one day, when the relationship is ended, tell me, what was the implicit (and honest) message I received? That’s right: you’re not worth it. With all the mess and messiness, craze and craziness, ridiculousness and hurt, you are not worth going through that. I’d rather not have you and the mess.



So what I have loved recently is that I had some good words given to me. It’s funny to think you may do the work of planting the seeds of words into the lives of people only to reap a harvest of fruitful words right back from your investment, but it’s been happening. . . with my students. I had two of my former high school students visit me during their spring break in college. It was nice to have them in the house for a week. We would make meals together; they would ask for permission to go out. I would stupidly stay up waiting for them to come home. I would fiercely guard them from DC guys they met, and I would drive them around and treat them. It was funny. But the words, oh the words they wrote to me in a card they gave me with a picture of them on the cover! When you don’t know if you’re good man, not because you may not be but because of silly words (which you know you just need to counteract, almost methodically), it helps to be told you are a good man. And I had forgotten because of other words. They gave me new words to replace the old. They told me. You’re a good man. You’re a Good man. They said some positive things and put it in writing for me to rehearse (I rehearse positive comments—it’s a practice of mine). I encouraged them, and I inspired them, and I was an example of a good man, and not just that a good Black man. (the word “good” is considered vague, banal, and provincial, but I actually consider it a very specific and great word in a different sense) Another friend contacted me to explain the wonders of me. I don’t know why she did it but she did. Her most repeated word was beautiful, but she spoke about more specific aspects of me since she meant beauty holistically. She even remembers the first day we met. Another student contacted me and said something special to me about me for me through me. From the last update, I received some negative comments, but I don’t write it for those. I write it for the positive comments that I receive, not to receive them, but to know that somehow some boring writing about sparks in my life can do some good in the life of someone else. I’m nourished by service.

COMMUNITY

One of the reasons I know I’m doing ok at community is that I’m still hurting people. I know it’s a strange comment and a strange metric or gauge, but it’s true. Now it is true that we as people can learn and grow to be embarrassed less, less self-focused, less pride-intensive, less offended, but we are all at different points in our lives. And usually with proximity and vulnerability comes the ability to hurt and offend. To this day, like my friend Shane Claiborne says, I have never been able to live in community without offending and hurting people. I have yet to outgrow that.

And so I have had new people lately angry or upset or offended with me. One friend, a beautiful geneticist, was upset that I was telling her that I like people more than they like me (including her) and always end up bothering them more than they want to do things. :-) I told her about all the times she wasn’t able to do things that we planned to do, or at least we hadn’t been able to do it yet. This bothered her, but before we could ever talk about it, she forgave me (and I apologized first--though unconditional forgiveness can pave the way for the conditions “required” for the gift of “conditional” forgiveness in the first place [figure that one out!]).

I had another friend with whom I was car pooling get upset with me because I was in an emotional hurry to meet up with family members. But my friend wasn’t comfortable traveling without stopping for directions. In an effort to calm her, I said “That’s fine. We’ll do what feels good for you. You decide. Yes we can stop for a map.” But I think she wanted more reassurance or more words because she got upset when after the 2nd stop we didn’t find a map, and I thought that meant we would go to the airport. I wanted to drive on to the airport to see my family. She said these words, “I feel like sometimes you don’t hear me. . .” What was strange about her being offended that I wanted to try to get to the airport, even though I was willing to wait and stop for a map twice and stop again for a map after not finding it twice, is this: my friend has never said I don’t hear her ever before. To my knowledge it was the first time that she has felt this way, and yet she said “sometimes.” This is either true and I offender her a lot, or she used the wrong words. I’m not sure which as we’re not around each other that much. I wasn’t able to get to my family in time more so due to leaving late, but I think offending a friend would be a small price to pay to see family from Nigeria whom you’ve never met before they fly back to Nigeria.

There are other stories, but I won't bore you with details. I will tell you that in one interesting situation my friend John said that money could be used on charity not on friends or people who were ok (I was using it on friends at the time). I thought the comment (though not his ultimate motivation) was well-intentioned and heading in the right direction. We do want to help those without. What the statement highlighted was the misguided way in which we give. It’s the usual recipe. The rich give to the poor through a website or a program or an organization and the rich go home feeling good about themselves for having given, and the poor go away feeing good because they received what they wanted or needed. This is not true giving. There’s no face to it. There’s no sacrifice of time, and there’s no relationship. Relational giving is the highest form of giving. Well, if not the highest, it’s the most natural. Time wouldn’t be so expensive if people didn’t value it so, but they do. It’s easier to give money then to give time. It takes time to build a relationship, time to rebuild trust, time to create trust in the first place, time to hope, time to love, time to make peace (as opposed to keeping peace). You could never say to a family member or spouse, “I don’t have time to be with you but here’s money to handle all your needs.” One reason is that food, shelter, clothing, and housing are not are only needs. People say sex is a need, but it’s not really. Love is. Relationship is. The way we were created we will seek it out wherever we can get it or find it, whether from a family, from a baby (at whatever age), from a dangerous gang, from a teacher, from an abusive spouse, wherever. There’s something about experiences that is not complete until the enjoyment of the experience is expressed to someone.


It’s like the Rollins story of the guy who ended up shipwrecked on a deserted island with Beyonce (you can insert any highly attractive famous person to any cultural group). Day after day, as they realized there was no one that would ever rescue them, the man began to nag Beyonce trying to convince her to be with him romantically. Beyonce always resisted his advances; she just wasn’t interested. But he kept bugging and bothering and pleading. One day when Beyonce realized that they would never be rescued she said “All right. I’ll give you one night.” So they spent the night together. In the morning, he was so excited and elated that he told Beyonce “Do you mean putting on this hat and t-shirt and mustache?” Beyonce said “What?” “Yes, will just put on this hat and t-shirt and moustache, please? It won’t be long. I just need to run down to the beach and I’ll be back.” It didn’t make sense to her, but she figured “Ok, whatever, I’ll do what he says.” So she put it on. The moment she put it on, he ran down to the beach’s shore and, as if he had just exited a boat, started running to Beyonce whom he recognized. When he reached her he said “Hey, Charles! It’s so good to see you. You will NEVER believe who I spent the night with last night?. . . .”

In all of the rambling and in all of my living, I’ve realized the really poor people are not those without money but those without relationships. When counseling the homeless (we all need it) I’ve realized that if I were in the situation, I wouldn’t be poor because I had relationships in which I would be taken care. I would quickly have a place to live, even if at least temporary. I would quickly get food in my tummy. And I would soon enough get a job again, even if part-time through a friend. In other words, poverty is not the lack of things such as food, shelter/housing, clothing, employment, water, etc. Poverty is the lack or relationships through which those things are naturally given and covered. Poverty is the lack of friendships. Check out this video which I’ve shown before from a Brazilian brother who seems to have come to this same conclusion that I saw in my work in South Africa.

Definition of Poverty

So the redistribution of wealth is something that we naturally experience in relationship and family. I don’t think we were meant to provide for physical provision without nourishing and nurturing the soul and spirit in relationship. I realize there are many types of families, so I’m speaking from a Christ-exemplified model. In a family, a person buys food and anyone eats; you go and buy provisions for the household and you do not ask for money back from those around you. But these people are not your family? I hear this often. Actually one thing I love about Jesus is that he expanded the definition of neighbor and brother. Everyone is your brother even your enemy, the person you would least expect it.

I don’t want to push the topic too much, but the best place to give is in relationship and in a way that costs you something. So though my friend is right that we should give to charity (I’m assuming this means people who are without provisions), this should be done by developing relationships with the poor. And in the same way that I give to my family and friends in relationship both with time and money, I give to my family and friends who are poor in relationship. And in families, no one keeps count, no record is kept. We live in love.
That’s community.