Jesus and Human Capital

One of the most shocking conversations I've had recently was on the topic of serving the underprivileged. A friend told me how he had to be careful when exposing his kids to serving the poor because they might take it too seriously. Being noticeably bothered by the statement, I asked, 


"What would be the harm in that?" 


After some hesitation, he explained that they would worry about the welfare of those people...maybe lose some sleep over it. He concluded with 


"I just can't have them thinking that they can change the world...that's just not realistic." 





From his statement comes the following logic:


1. Helping others isn't to be taken that seriously
2. I would rather people live in poverty and suffering than for my children to worry
3. It is irrational to think that one person can make a difference.


For more than a year, I have taught "Contemporary World Culture" at ITT Tech here in Nashville.  In it, we spend a lot of time studying the social and cultural impact of globalization. This concept of a global corporation depends on consumerism - this idea, born out of the end of authoritarian and monarchical political structures. This was the birth of the middle class. In this setting, nobility could be attained by anyone as long as ones possessions outnumbered those of thy neighbor. Simply put - the more stuff you had, the more important you were. Sound familiar?



 Just as you can find opposing arguments for almost ANY issue today, there are opposing arguments concerning globalization and consumerism. As you could imagine, my class often turns into a forum for a good ol' political brawl - especially with the recent emergence of the whole Occupy movement. Occasionally, religious convictions and/or spiritual beliefs become cannon fodder. Though I always keep my objectivity, the questions concerning those convictions and beliefs have snowballed for me personally. 



It only took a moment to realize that, of the people who have influenced the world for Christ, I couldn't think of one who was a beacon for globalization and/or consumerism. I've come to believe that it is impossible for the ideas of consumerism and Christianity to coexist within a believer. 

In my mind, the truly troubling thing about my recent conversation is that the person who said it very openly professes Christianity. The conversation brought me to examine my own ideals. I think the flesh causes us to draw that razor thin line separating "Giving within reason" and "Weirdo." Giving is great until it starts to oppose the status quo. When people start to notice, it's like we're back in middle school wearing straight leg jeans when everyone else has Hammer pants.


In his book The Irresistible Revolution Shane Claiborne writes, 


“What if Jesus really meant it?” What if Jesus was serious when he challenges us to an upside-down way of living that includes embracing the poor, loving the enemy..." 


Maybe I'm nuts...but I truly believe that Jesus meant what he said about helping the poor, loving the rejects, and loving others more than ourselves. I am in no way suggesting that I am above the influence. I'm simply asking that you take the time to reflect on it. Whether or not you realize it now, I think you'll find that it has influenced you as well...possibly through this statement:


"If I give that guy money, he'll just go buy alcohol with it." 


In that one statement, judgement is passed and a human being becomes capital in a banking transaction. We want to see return on our investment. We can't be wasting our hard-earned money for no return, right?


Give because God leads you to give. Do not do it for ANY other reason. When we compare the death of Christ to our ridiculous successes, we are ALL piss-poor investments. If we listed every sin in the English language, the word "grace" would still be wide enough to cover them all. 


Is it really unrealistic to think that we can make a difference? I don't think so. However, I think it IS unrealistic to think that we can do so while on the pursuit of consumerism. To make a difference or To buy more stuff...To be broken or to be guilt-free... Aren't those the real decisions.  Which will you choose?

Weird Like Me

I used to be a really good conservative. 

“Abortion is murder." 

"God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve."

I know all the lingo. I may or may not have even donated $1 to certain political campaigns back in the day who upheld my legalistic agenda. I am forever thankful that God delivered me from those days.

Today, I wouldn’t label myself a liberal or a conservative…I’m just a weirdo. I joke about that often but there’s a huge element of truth to it. A lot of the legalistic principles I was taught as a child caused me to strive for the good works of salvation rather than letting Grace do it’s work. Passages like the following often perpetuated the issue.

2 Corinthians 9:6-11 “The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work. As it is written, ‘He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.’ He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God.”

As I’ve grown in my understanding of grace and mercy, when I read passages like that, I am consumed with questions like “what does it look like to live grace and mercy in that context?” “What does it look like to give without reluctance or compulsion?” More importantly, "should the gift be limited to physical things?" "What if that gift is time…or even…love?" When we get down to it…isn’t Christ’s death on the cross ultimately about love? What greater gift could we have been given?

Most of us who profess Christianity are more than ok with giving to those who need it…but what about those who aren’t in need? Those who freely take advantage of others for their own agenda – should we “cheerfully give” to them as well? The argument soon becomes less about how much and/or what we give and more about who deserves the help and who doesn’t.

Luke 6:30-35 says:

 “Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them. If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.”

Living in the culture we do only serves to further complicate such giving. Think about the last time you were given a gift. If you’re like me, you weren’t overrun with thankfulness; first came guilt and then the immediate need to buy them a gift to settle the score. How many people do you know who are proud of the fact that they’ve never accepted a handout? I know quite a few.

If the gift is love and we are to give it freely, at some point that will mean showing love to those who don’t “deserve” it…do it anyway. Why? Here’s why:

Romans 5:6-8

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The truth is – none of us deserve what Christ gave. When I truly take a look at my own condition, it is blatantly obvious that in terms of return, I was a terrible investment. After receiving such a gift, the least I can do is give that love away. Is it easy for me to love without condition? Not a chance…but if I accept the love of Christ, how can I not strive to do the same?

Is anyone out there weird like me?

I am (less than 1% of) the 99%

On the night of May 1^st, I was plugging away with video edits when Amy yelled from the living room “Osama bin Laden is Dead!?” I was immediately thankful for those who endured pain because of his actions in hopes that it would bring some closure. But I was far more saddened by the statements and actions of many believers who chose to speak out in the name of justice rather than mercy. Simply put - many of us celebrated the death of a non-believer.

Fast forward a few months and here I am feeling the same emotions over a different issue.

Since the Occupy Wall Street movement started I’ve been surprised by both the magnitude of the following as well as the public response to it. I first became aware of the movement after being forwarded a link to wearethe99percent.org, a blog where anyone can post stories of their current financial circumstances and how they are struggling in the economy. If you haven’t visited the site, I would encourage you to check it out ASAP. Some of the stories are truly heartbreaking.

I teach Economics, Government, and Political Science part time at ITT Tech. In order to effectively do my job, it’s pretty important that I keep up with current events relating to my curriculum. That being said, I’m very familiar with the issues surrounding the movement. The media is and always will be a battle ground for politics. Last week, the following photo appeared everywhere in my Facebook and Twitter feed:

I expected a media battle. What I didn’t expect was the nature of the comments supporting the statement against the OWS protests.

They don’t know what they want

End the Entitlement

They want something for nothing

Take responsibility for your own problems

After reading enough to make me angry, it became evident to me that neither side of this battle cared to empathize with the mentality or the circumstances of the other. There are misunderstandings on both sides of the board. As Americans we are taught from a very young age that hard work, determination, and education equal success. Experiences, however, have shown me that this teaching is not so accurate for most of us.

Chances are, those making up the 1% were taught this formula of success along with the rest of us. From their perspective, they simply followed the rules and the rest played out like it was supposed to. It would be idiotic to demonize them for being successful. Isn’t that what everyone wants? – For our hard work to pay off with success?  I think that is unfair to label someone, especially with the title “evil” simply due to their good fortune and/or where they work. If I am completely honest, being that I own a business, if I was given complete tax exemption, I would be crazy not to take advantage of that. Where do taxes come into this equation you may ask? Check out this article on how much General Electric paid in taxes last year.

But what if working hard, being responsible, and making good decisions DOESN’T always pay off? What if you put in the work and STILL end up penniless? What if you’re like me and can’t find a job because schools are financially crippled to the point that a masters degree (a “good” decision), actually works against you?

I bought every vehicle I’ve ever owned - not because my parents were trying to teach me a lesson but because we were that poor. My dad was disabled when I was 5 and it took years before he was awarded any assistance. I remember standing in the line for food stamps like it was yesterday. College fund? Growing up, I hoped I would get to go to college. That came out of my pocket as well.

I have worked my ass off for everything I have. I never had handouts to refuse, nor did I expect someone else to solve my problems. If anyone has a right to call the movement entitled, who better than I? Much like calling everyone on Wall Street “greedy,” it is equally as ignorant to label a group of less fortunate people “entitled” and/or “lazy.” Free speech is a first amendment right, but for the sake of people like myself, do a little research and try to see where they come from. I’ve been able to pay the bills because I can work with my hands. 10% of the nation isn’t so fortunate.

“But some of them are just jumping on the bandwagon.” That is absolutely true, but as believers, deciding who is genuine and who is a free rider isn’t our responsibility. Why? Because living Christ means living grace. He gave despite the fact that none of US deserve it. By that standard, it IS our responsibility to love… regardless of social status.

There exists a very thin line between entitlement and brokenness. Love and empathy is our responsibility, God makes the decision on justice. 

Jesus Uses Inappropriate Language

Amy and I have been going to Cross Point for several months now. It's been one of the only places I've ever actually wanted to get up and go to on Sunday morning. It's a huge church with several campuses (which used to really make me nervous) but it has never felt impersonal.

Recently, we've been getting plugged in to the many service opportunities. We started a community group, I've been shooting some event photos, and Amy has joined the Notes and Cards ministry - which, is exactly what it sounds like... they send notes and cards to those dealing with grief, requesting prayer...etc. In the first set of requests, Amy was taken back to find a young woman her age who was grieving over the loss of her dad. It was amazing to see how the process of grief provided opportunities to be Christ to others.

It was actually a sermon by one of our pastors, Blake, that encouraged Amy to join the Notes and Cards ministry. After writing to the woman who had lost her dad, Amy emailed Blake to just tell him how the sermon encouraged her. He replied, encouraged by the whole situation, and wanted to meet us. We met up with him yesterday after the service.

I was pretty jacked up for the meeting for a couple of reasons. First, I absolutely love how God has constantly used our sufferings for the benefit of others. Any chance we get to talk about it is awesome. The second and most important reason for my excitement dated back to 2005 when I came across this video:




Though we had been attending Crosspoint for several months, we hadn't been there when Blake spoke until a Sunday in early Spring. Immediately, I recognized him and texted all of my college roommates my discovery.

I told him about the whole situation when we met him yesterday. I told him about seeing the video back in 2005 and how it all came full-circle when I heard him speak at Cross Point. He laughed as he shook his head saying "so stupid..." We talked for a while about the whole situation. I was shocked to hear that this happened while refreshing from the previous weeks' message... He hadn't even started teaching. Though we had some laughs, the most amazing thing was hearing him tell about all of the ridiculous ways that God worked through that video. His ministry grew, he got loads of speaking engagements, and last year he even did an interview with MSN.

I'm so thankful for Cross Point and for the times in life when God takes something like the death of a parent or an inappropriate comment and uses it for His glory.

"When I get to heaven, I'm totally gonna pinch Abraham's t**s," he said.

I replied with: "Just to make it literal."

Blake, if you're reading this, I'm waiting to destroy you on my bike - yeah, I'm kidding... please don't hurt me....

-Jamie

Cause of Death: Lack of Love

It’s been almost a year since my employment ended at a group home just outside of Nashville. There, I did my best to facilitate learning in a room full of young men who, for whatever reason, had been placed in state custody. Most of the students were violent, disrespectful, and manipulative. After a couple of months, the fighting didn’t bother me anymore. Much like living by the train tracks, you eventually don’t even notice. It was hands-down the worst job I’ve ever had. I was called every name imaginable, threatened, and even one day, punched in the chest. It was and still is a terrible company - concerned only with profit. Believing that healing troubled pasts is not a business can cause conflict in a place like that. Like I came to learn, it might even cost you your job.

I learned through ministry that God gave me a gift to work with teens. Being that my dad was an addict, we didn’t have much. Those experiences often took away a students’ ability to say “you don’t understand.” I understood hardship. I also understood when I was being manipulated. Most of the boys in the group home were far more diligent about manipulation than they were about self-betterment. Most of them only wanted to appear changed. The average stay was 4-6 months, so I got used to new students and their creativity in appearing changed.

Months before losing my job, I got a new student named Avery. He was tall, thin, and had dark olive skin. His ethnicity was listed as “black” but he could easily have passed for Hispanic. Avery was different than any of the students. He was soft-spoken and respectful. He made no effort to manipulate. I gave him practice tests for his graduation exams which he diligently worked on in class and after. He always asked if he needed help and thanked me multiple times a day. He was quick to call out others who disrespected me or any of the staff - on many occasions this would lead him into rants. He would remind them of the opportunity they had to start over and reprimand them for wasting our time. The other guys came to see him as a leader.

A look into his student file was heartbreaking. Avery was originally from New Orleans. If my memory serves me right, he never knew his dad and his mom was murdered when he was at a young age. One of his siblings did their best to raise him in NOLA until Katrina sent them North, eventually settling in Nashville. I don’t remember the charge that landed him in state custody, only that it involved him acting to protect someone he loved.

His eagerness to do better gave me inspiration. After getting to know him, he was my motivation to go to work every day. Even after I was fired, I kept up with him through some of the staff. I made sure he got my number, which I heard meant a lot to him. I never got a phone call but I thought about him often. Multiple attempts to look him up went without success, including one just two days ago. After every failed attempt, I prayed for his well-being and thanked God for giving me hope.

Tonight, while watching a film with my class, my phone chimed from a new email - reminding me that I had forgot to silence it. After flipping to silent mode, I checked my inbox to see a response from ApartmentRating.com. Since leaving a negative review of our old apartment complex, I get a notification when someone writes a new review. The responses are usually an entertaining read - each describing the experiences of another terrified tenant with detailed descriptions of how the management told them that “gunshots happen everywhere in Nashville.” Sure enough, the tenant heard gunshots and woke this morning to the news of another murder. I googled the name of our complex. When the search results came up, I was absolutely crushed to see this:

I’m still crushed. I’m crushed at the fact that the kid wanted to do better - could do better, but couldn’t escape his circumstances. I couldn’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if Avery had called me. Could I have made a difference? After reading that it could be gang-related, the whole process has led me to bigger questions like, What if he had grown up in my house? Would he have lived to see 20? I sure think so. If I had walked in his shoes, would that be me on the news? We all live and die by our choices but we are also products of our upbringing. I had struggles growing up but one thing was always clear: I was loved. Bad things happen when kids aren’t loved at home. I can’t stop wondering if Avery truly knew he was loved.

After finding out I had been in ministry, Avery talked to me a lot about my faith. After starting with "I ain't understand NONE of dat shit when I was young," He told me that he had just come to understand Jesus for the first time. 

"I don't know HOW I know all dat's for real... But I know it is... You feel me?" He said.

"I do Avery... I really do."

As I reflect on such a tragedy, my only comfort comes from knowing that, even in his circumstances... grace found him.

"Not a Typical Saturday" or "Donnie"

I spend the majority of my Fridays prepping for one of the two classes I teach at ITT Tech. There are always emails to answer, papers to grade, and since it is a political science class - current events to stay on top of. Two Fridays ago, running late, I turned on the water for a shower and went to get my clothes when there was a knock on the door. I was immediately anxious because, well… we just don’t have good experiences with unexpected company. You know… it’s always that “friend” that you didn’t want to see today… the one who wants something but never offers to return the favor(s).  After realizing that I couldn’t make it from the bedroom to the shower without being seen, I had no choice but to answer the door. When I walked into the living room, I recognized the man standing at the front door. It was Donnie – the middle-aged, mentally challenged man that I always see walking around the busy streets surrounding our neighborhood.

I first saw Donnie at the local barbershop in January. The snow covering Nashville had closed the schools, giving me an unexpected vacation. I had been waiting to get a haircut for a half-hour or so while the barber finished up the only other customer in the shop. Donnie walked in and stood in front of the chair as the first customer was brushing the hair off of his coat. He was tall and thin, and walked almost awkwardly upright. He explained that he needed a haircut, then proceeded to sit down for his purchase. He had such a severe speech impediment that it was extremely hard to understand what he was saying.  The barber, Abe, explained to him that he would have to wait his turn. Abe spoke in the same way that a mother would have explained it to her pre-teen child. Despite his trouble communicating, Abe seemed to understand everything he was saying. After getting frustrated over the wait, Donnie said, “I come back,” and walked back out into the cold. Abe went on to explain to me that Donnie lived nearby and walked everywhere.  We talked briefly about him before being carried away in conversation.

I started noticing Donnie much more around the neighborhood after that. I’m sure he had always been there, it just took meeting him to notice.

~~~~~

“Can you help me?” Donnie said.

“What do you need?” I asked.

Donnie replied with a sentence that I couldn’t understand with the exception of the words “move” and “apartment.”

After repeating what I thought he said, Donnie shook his head in frustration.

Finally I said, “I can’t understand you.”

He replied with the same sentence, only louder.

“I’ll be glad to help you later, but I’ve got to go to work right now.” I replied.

“I come back tuhmowow,” he said. Then he walked away.

~~~~~

Today was a routine Saturday. By “routine,” I mean that nothing went as planned and I still have a full list of things that were to be today’s agenda. I was in the yard working on a friend’s car when Donnie walked up – more than a week after his first visit.

“Can you help me?”

“I sure can, but I have to finish this car first.”

“OK. I come back”

~~~~~

Given my previous experience, I didn’t expect to see Donnie again for a while. Much to my surprise, that familiar knock on the door left little doubt that we had company. Frustrated by another interruption, I answered the door, put on some shoes, and faced the consequences of my words. I had no clue where we were going or what I had agreed to do. All I knew is that “it not far.”

Donnie shook my hand and asked my name, what year I was born, my wife’s name, what year she was born, where we went to high school, where we went to church, and a wealth of other questions. He told me that he was 57, where he went to school, where he went to church, and that he lived with his sister.

Giving me turn-by-turn directions, we reached our destination, which was only a few miles from our house. By the time we got there, I was able to make out some of what he was saying. We were at his uncle’s house who had recently passed away. After a little trouble finding the key in his bag of things, He unlocked the door and started loading a few leftover things from the house into my truck. After getting almost a full load, Donnie motioned for me to follow him back into the house where he led me to a wall-sized oil painting of a sailboat on the sea.

“Will you give dat to your wife? She like dat.”

Taken back by his innocence and kindness, I smiled as I told him, “I sure will Donnie. I think she’ll like it too.”

We left the house with my truck bed full of things from Donnie’s uncle’s house. Just as before, he gave me turn-by-turn directions as to where we were going. A few minutes into the ride, I realized that he was saying “Church of Christ.”  I wondered to myself why we were taking this load of mostly junk to a church. After all, Donnie had made multiple trips to my house and there was such a sense of urgency when he asked for help.

As we pulled into the church parking lot, he pointed to the drive-thru awning at the side entrance. I slowed to a stop right before seeing a sign on the door that read “Donation Drop-Off.” With that same sense of urgency, Donnie got out of the truck and began unloading the things from the truck. I stalled for a minute or so and literally fought back tears. Today, God sent a middle-aged mentally retarded man to show me just how much I lose focus on love.

Here's a pic of the painting. Donnie was right. “She like dat.”