Jimmy and the Red Kickball

Jimmy was a fortunate boy. Some people considered his father to be the most important guy around, and with so much prestige came a fair amount of wealth also. As such, Jimmy had many toys: a bicycle, a swing set, lots of cars and action figures, plenty of games. However, one day Jimmy noticed that one of the other boys way down the street was playing with a red kickball, a toy that Jimmy didn't have. That other boy seemed to be having a great time, so Jimmy decided to ask his father for a red kickball. It's understandable that Jimmy had become accustomed to getting what he asked for, because his father was so generous, so you can imagine his surprise when his father told him he couldn't have one. Even more confusing was the fact that his father wouldn’t tell him why. That fact didn’t keep Jimmy from asking, though. Still, no level of fervor on Jimmy's part could sway his father. Eventually, he just quit asking.

And so, Jimmy's wanting of the red kickball ended, right? Hardly. That other boy seemed to always be outside, having lots of fun with the red kickball--all in clear view of Jimmy. Eventually, Jimmy decided that a little creativity might help his situation. He asked his father if he could run down the street to play with the other boy; of course, Jimmy was more interested in finally getting to play with the red kickball, instead of meeting the other boy. Ah, but Jimmy's father was smart enough to know what was going on, so he asked Jimmy what his real intentions were. (Of course, since Jimmy was a boy, he did so in simple language, instead of referencing "intentions" and "motives" and such.) Now, Jimmy couldn't lie to his father; he didn't want to, and even if he did, he knew it wouldn't work. So, he confessed about plotting to play with the red kickball, and then he walked away shamefully.

Oh, if only Jimmy could just step away from the whole thing. But you know that he can't. He tried, though. He focused on his most enjoyable toys and made his best effort to keep entertained with them. Some days, it worked. Other days, it didn't. And on those days, Jimmy just wouldn't play at all. He'd just sit, sinking in self-pity. Oddly, he knew that, even though the red kickball wasn't available to him, playing with any toy would be better than just sitting there. Yet, he frequently found himself just sitting. It's not that he felt as though he had been mistreated, really, but the mixture of confusion and rejection felt a lot like mistreatment. And unfairness. At the same time, Jimmy did trust his father; after all, his father had never done anything to cause Jimmy to think otherwise. Of course, that just fueled the confusion further.

When it came down to it, Jimmy knew that he wouldn't disobey his father regarding the red kickball. But knowing that to be the case didn't ease Jimmy's struggle, because he also knew that the red kickball would never fully leave his mind. And, as the kickball rolled around his mind, he knew there would sometimes be moments of loathing or desire or anger or despair, none of which he looked forward to. To the extent that it was possible, Jimmy wanted the red kickball to just fade from his memory. He also wanted those moments when he chose to obey his father to feel more like "obedience" and less like "missing out."

Appeasing the Conscience

Benevolence, charity, alms...they all have to do with giving to the less fortunate. And, I'm pretty sure that most people, and certainly most Christians, feel like those are good things. I feel the same way.

However...

How does your life make use of charity? What does it do for you, as a giver of charity? I'm asking myself these questions, thanks to an article I just read by Shane Claiborne, a guy who works in Philadelphia living a life of ministry along side the city's most destitute inhabitants. Here's a quote from the article. (Let me preface it by saying that the quote will come across as, at the least, provocative, and, at the most, downright offensive. But, it's good for making you think.)

"Over the years I have come to see how charity fits into — and legitimizes — our system of wealth and poverty. Charity assures that the rich will feel good while the poor will remain with us. It is important that the poor remain with us, because our capitalist system hinges on it. Without someone on the bottom, there is no American dream and no hope for upward mobility.

Charity also functions to keep the wealthy sane. Tithes, tax-exempt donations, and short-term mission trips, while they accomplish some good, also function as outlets that allow wealthy Christians to pay off their consciences while avoiding a revolution of lifestyle. People do their time in a social program or distribute food and clothes through organizations which take their excess. That way, they never actually have to face the poor and give their clothes, their food, their beds. Wealthy Christians never actually have to be with poor people, with Christ in disguise.

If charity did not provide these carefully sanctioned outlets, Christians might be forced to live the reckless Gospel of Jesus by abandoning the stuff of earth. Instead, thanks to charity, we can live out a comfortable, privatized discipleship.

But when we get to heaven and are separated into sheep and goats (Matt. 25), I don't believe Jesus is going to say, 'When I was hungry, you gave a check to the United Way and they fed me' or 'When I was naked, you donated to the Salvation Army and they clothed me.' Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He is seeking concrete actions: 'You fed me, … you visited me, … you welcomed me in, ... you clothed me...'

If we are to truly be the church, poverty must become a face we recognize as our own kin."

That's hard-hitting stuff.