A commercial running in our area tells people to indulge
in decadent desserts, with the proceeds going to medical research.
Internet shopping programs give a percentage of everything you buy to your
favorite worthy cause. A bank ad asks people to help local schools by
signing up for a new checking account, because--as the ad dramatically
illustrates--volunteering there can be such a hassle.
Charity isn’t what it used to be.
When I was growing up, we were taught to share our time
and money with those in need. We would even skip dessert at times and give
the money to charity. Now the charitably-correct thing to do is to eat
dessert twice.
Self-sacrifice is a hard sell these days, and I don’t
blame the folks at non-profits for trying to raise funds in any legitimate
way they can. But you have to think Jesus had something a little more
radical in mind than shopping and eating dessert when he said, "If
you’ve done it unto the least of these, you’ve done it unto me."
So I’m glad to see high schools requiring students to
do community service. My son Lucas has to complete 21 hours of service
this year.
He started by picking apples.
"Here’s another 17." Lucas handed me a
bucket of shiny, red apples, still damp from the light rain that was
falling.
I dumped them into a box in the trunk. "How many
does that make?"
"Sixty-five."
"Only 95 to go."
He grinned and headed back to last row of Spartan apple
trees.
Later, he and his dad wheeled the apples--now baked with
brown sugar and raisins and covered with ice cream--out to the parish hall
and served them to the waiting guests. It was the first time we’d helped
with our parish’s monthly Jubilee outreach dinner.
Two hours before mealtime, people were already sitting
at the tables. Many were elderly. Some struggled with mental illness.
I supervised the beverage table, a popular stop for
those waiting for the meal. "What’s on the menu today?" a
woman asked.
"Vegetarian lasagna, corn, salad, and baked apples.
We’re featuring foods from local farms," I explained.
"Oh, good." she said. "I’m glad it’s
vegetarian."
A woman with a walker asked for two cups of milk. I
wondered how she’d make it to her table, but before I could offer to
help, a young man jumped up from a nearby seat and carried them for her.
Lucas cut vegetables for the salad, washed pans, took
out the recycling, served the food, and cleared tables. Some people
thanked him for the food. One man called him over to tell him the score of
the Seattle Mariners game.
As we sat down to sample a leftover dessert, we saw a
woman carefully put her second serving into a plastic container and stuff
it in her tote bag. "Now I have something for dinner tonight,"
she explained. "I don’t have anything in the refrigerator."
I hoped Lucas would think of her the next time he
complained that "there’s nothing to eat in the house."
As we drove home, I thought about the benefits of
hands-on service. Giving up even a small portion of your own time or money
connects you with those in need in a way that today’s no-hassle
fund-raisers don’t. We can’t change the world if we’re not willing
to be changed ourselves.
"So, what did you think?" I asked Lucas.
He shrugged. "They just seemed like normal
people," he said.
For an insight like that, you had to be there.
