Throwing money at the problem
I went to a seminar yesterday. It was on the other side of Indy and the seminar started at 9 in the morning. That meant I got to drive on 465 through the morning rush. I had forgotten how much I hate driving the Indy Interstates during the rush hours. Don’t get me wrong. I realize it’s not LA or Atlanta or some other major metropolis. But that traffic just drives me nuts on 465 in the morning. Glad I don’t have to deal with it every day.
I’m still digesting and processing many of the insights I gleaned from yesterday’s seminar. It wasn’t like any of the concepts were new. In fact, I have been trying to articulate some of these concepts for years. It was refreshing to hear my thoughts finally given a voice by some people who are much better communicators than I. I came away rejuvinated (although my rear end was sore from all that sitting) and ready to make some tweaks here and there in regards to how I approach serving within our community. Several key thoughts stuck out, but like I said – I’m still digesting.
There was one statement, though, that offended me. It was towards the end of the day and the speaker shared some insights from the Parable of the Good Samaritan. He commented about how the Samaritan did all of these things for the victim: bandaged his wounds, gave him something to drink, and took him to an inn. It was only after doing everything else for this man that he opened up his checkbook and gave him money. “Far too many times,” he said, “the first thing we do is throw money at the problem when it should really be the last thing we do.” Because just giving money and walking away keeps the problems at a safe distance. Doing all of that other stuff…providing for a person’s basic needs…requires us to get a little messy sometimes. People are messed up. And when you get involved in people’s lives, sometimes that mess gets on you. It’s a whole lot easier and much safer to just throw money at the problem and walk away.
I was offended. But not at the speaker. I was offended at myself. He was talking about me. It’s much easier to think a problem will be solved, a need will be met, a person will be ministered to and see the piercing light of God’s love if we throw money at the problem. That way, I can keep the mess at arm’s distance.
Approached by a homeless man on the street? Throw money at him.
The HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa has reached pandemic levels? Throw money at it.
A central Indiana community was devastated by flooding? Throw money at it.
Don’t get your hands dirty. Keep the mess at an arm’s distance. Fortunately, Jesus didn’t do that.
Jesus chose to give up His rightful place at the Father’s side and became a person. He chose to place Himself within the confines of flesh, muscles, blood, and bones. When He walked, He kicked up dust just like everyone else. When He entered a home the caked-on mud had to be washed off His feet just like everyone else’s. He felt pain. He cried. I’m sure He had a runny nose from time to time and His armpits stunk like everyone else’s. He didn’t keep humanity at arm’s distance. He didn’t merely perform a few miracles and think everything was OK. And He most certainly didn’t merely throw money at the problem. In fact, He addressed the heart of the problem by spreading out His own arms and died so that I might live.
Yeah, things can get a little messy when you deal with messed up people. But, really – what gives me the right to try to keep them at arm’s distance? Yes, giving money (and other possessions) away is important. But I can’t stop at that. I need to be a little more messy.
Our family has been sponsoring a child through Holt International for a few years now. I need to be more proactive in building a relationship with that child.
Maybe getting more messy will mean something as complicated as building a house with Habitat for Humanity, serving food at Muncie Mission, or going overseas like the Amazing 80 team is in February.
Or maybe it will mean grabbing my rake, walking across the street, and raking my neighbor’s yard.
Maybe it will mean volunteering to watch another neighbor’s kids while she gets some much-needed rest.
I don’t know the specifics yet, but I do know I can’t just rely on throwing money at the problem anymore. It’s time to roll up my sleeves and get a little bit messy.
This entry was written as part of Blog Action Day
Latest posts by Matt Todd (see all)
- What would your liftoff song(s) be? - April 12, 2024
- My solar eclipse playlist (redux) - April 6, 2024
- Our Colorado bison encounter (aka how we almost became THAT viral video family) - March 23, 2024
Although I’m not religious and definitely not a Christian, I enjoyed your message.
I think far too many Christians skim over the fact that jesus walked with the tramps, prostitutes, beggars, lepers, tax collectors, and so on. He walked, talked, and ate with them. But the modern day follower often remains in comfort zones of exclusve communities. They help one another, the easy route, or just throw money (albeit it’s much needed) at the outer world.
Good on you for considering forming an actual relationship with your sponsored child.
Thanks for stopping by, Mon. You’re welcome here anytime!
I probably should mention that the child we’re sponsoring isn’t even two years old yet. That being said, there are still things we can do to begin a deeper connection with him at this young age.
There are other things we are doing, too. My wife and I have agreed not to go public with those things yet. But it will require some major re-arranging of our lives and elimination of some of the comforts we have. In other words, I guess it’s gonna get a little bit messy. But that’s all I’m going to say about it at this point. I guess you’ll just have to come back some other time and see what’s going on, huh? How’s that for a teaser?
I want to make sure everyone understands that I believe giving money and other resources is most certainly needed. It’s vital to addressing some of the problems our world faces.
But money’s not the only answer. In fact, I don’t think it should even be the first answer. But it is still part of the equation.