Tag: charity

Posted on

Raising the Lady

When Notre Dame de Paris burned, the world mourned.

Then the destruction was halted. And that’s when things got more complicated.

Not for the rescue itself. The French firefighters who battled the fire and stopped it in time to save the main edifice have received a flood of praise, and rightly so. They stood in the face of an inferno that could have completely wiped an irreplaceable monument from the face of the earth, and successfully told it “No. This far, and no further.” That act of stubborn defiance deserves all the praise the world can give, and then some.

The complications came when the donations started rolling in.

Millions had watched the grand cathedral burn. And millions began to be given for its restoration, some of it from some of the world’s wealthiest people. And that’s when the questions started.

“Where were these people when the hungry needed to be fed and the naked clothed?”

“What about the churches that aren’t so famous or lucky?”

“The Catholic Church has plenty of money; why don’t we give ours to (cause) instead?”

“How many problems could be solved if these people would stand up for them as quickly as they did for a famous monument?”

They’re challenging questions. They’re meant to be. The only one that truly has a “wait a minute” answer is the one about the Church: Notre Dame has been owned by the French government since 1905, and its funding for art and infrastructure projects is … well, about what you’d expect from many governments, actually. (There’s a reason that even before the fire, restoration of the cathedral had moved at a snail’s pace.)

But there’s some justice in the overall line of questioning. Yes, we should be helping the needy more than we do. Yes, there are many causes that are not in the spotlight that need the aid of all of us, rich and not-so-rich alike. Yes, giving is something that should be on our mind all the time and in our own backyard, not just when a famous site burns half a world away.

But.

At the same time as I acknowledge the truth of all that, I’m also not going to disparage giving that adds to the joy and beauty in the world, either.  That also fills a need.

Both sorts of causes are worthy. Both deserving of our attention. Both make the world more of a place worth living in.

Locally, there are plenty of ongoing causes that need support, from outreach efforts like HOPE and the OUR Center to newer initiatives like Sharing the NextLight. There are also people who gave to build a theatre marquee in the downtown, or an auditorium for the Longmont Museum, or a number of other, finite projects where a final goal could be reached. There are likely donors who have done both, and are doing both.

All of it adds  to the life we share.

Are there folks whose public giving is purely for the accolades? Certainly. Are there folks who give quietly in the shadows whom we never hear about? Absolutely. Are we right to be cynical about the former and smile on the latter? There’s at least 2,000 years of precedent for doing so.

But whatever the motives, whatever may lie on a person’s soul – if the giving is doing some good somewhere, then it’s worth the having.

And whatever judgement we may pass on another’s motives, we surely know our own. There are needs we see, that we can support.

Support them. However you can. To lift someone up. To create beauty. to make something more for all of us.

Great or small, those deeds shine as bright as any cathedral.

And they stand with a power that no fire can take away.

Posted on

Ho, Ho … WHOA!

By now, I should be used to the wacky and the tacky at Christmastime, from beer-can trees to Kris Kringle toilet seat covers. But nothing in a lifetime of holidays prepared me for The Ugly Sweater.

The best thing I can say about The Ugly Sweater is that it’s one-of-a-kind, because the existence of two on the planet would cause me to despair for the human race. To properly envision it, imagine a sweater created with the budget of Donald Trump and the taste of Liberace on a bender, with just a touch of George Lucas for panache.

A-glitter with nearly 25,000 gaudy crystals, it features Santa Claus flying through space on a unicorn, while garishly red-and-green planets gleam in the background. There’s even a faux diamond necklace around the collar – because, you know, if you’ve gone this far, you might as well do it with class, right? The price tag for this little gem? About $30,000.

Hey, who needs a car, anyway?

Yes, it’s real. You can Google dozens of references in a blink as long as you remember not to eat first. And it’s tempting to be just a little outraged at someone spending thirty grand for a sweater that’s too heavy to even wear comfortably. (Yes, of course it comes with a frame!)  But anytime something like this comes to my attention, I usually calm myself with two thoughts:

1) Anyone who would blow $30,000 on Santa Bling Is Coming to Space probably wasn’t about to spend it on widows and orphans as their second choice, anyway.

2) Unicorn Santa and gewgaws like it make a nice lightning rod for people with much wealth and little judgment, relieving them of their cash before it can do some serious damage. Sort of like taking the keys from the inebriated at New Year’s, only with less need for breath mints.

Besides, while it’s easy to laugh – and I did my share, believe me — it is possible to turn the question around.

What have we done with our time and money that could have been better spent elsewhere?

Reality check: I don’t live like a monk and I’m not about to force anyone else to do the same. We all do fun things, frivolous things, even downright bizarre things with our resources at times, and that’s not a bad thing in and of itself. It’s even part of what makes this world a fun and colorful place to be.

But it’s also never wrong to ask “Have I done all the good I could do?” Maybe we don’t live in golden palaces or have Rudolph the Ruby-Encrusted Reindeer, but many of us have something. Compared to much of the world, we have a lot.

What are we doing with it?

It’s a question that becomes very palpable at this time of year. It’s one that should be more visible at all times.

The writer C.S. Lewis once said that the only safe rule for charity was to give more than we could spare. “If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they were too small,” he wrote. There should be something you would like to do, and can’t, he insisted, because of what you’ve already given.

It can look overwhelming, I agree. But just because we’re not doing everything doesn’t mean we can’t do something.

Is there someone to be helped? A friend, a relative, a stranger not yet met?

Is there a task that needs our skill? A hurt that needs our comfort? A wrong that can be made right, however briefly?

All it takes is a willingness to start. And if each of our littles can equal a lot, that is one dazzling gift, indeed.

Even more dazzling than Santa Claus on a space unicorn.

Posted on

The Next Step

When we lived in Kansas, Heather once had a surgery that kept her in the hospital for a week. I know it was a week because of the parade of food that resulted.

If you’ve ever lived in the Midwest, you know what I mean. Small towns and church communities have a sixth sense for when one of their own needs help. That’s when the casseroles start lining up – because even if everything else in your life is chaos, by jingo, you won’t have to worry about dinner for a while. Just return the dishes when you’re done.

It was love made visible. Concrete caring.

Which brings me to Orlando.

As I’ve said before, I’m tired of writing about mass shootings. I’m sure most of you are tired of reading about them. We’re all tired of living with them, and the pain and confusion that follow in their wake.

As the drumbeat of violence goes on, seemingly without end, nerves are getting strained. Tempers are growing thin. For Exhibit A, just watch the reaction when any politician makes the now-traditional offering of “Our thoughts and prayers.”

“Never mind the thoughts and prayers, man! What are you going to do?”

Now, as one friend pointed out, thoughts and prayers by themselves are not a bad thing. When a horrific act occurs, we need a quiet space to sort things out. We need to think, to meditate, to pray and commune, so that we can get centered again and see a way forward.

But this should be a beginning. Not an ending.

What do we think about? What do we pray for? When we go into this quiet space, what do we come out ready to do?

When someone is sick, we don’t just offer thoughts, prayers, and cards. We make food. We run errands. We pay visits to ward off loneliness.

When a friend is in tight straits financially, we don’t just wish them luck and move on. We pass the hat. We offer help. Maybe we even slip an anonymous gift card into the mailbox.

When a society is wounded and bleeding, what do we do? The answer is, and always must be, whatever we can to answer the pain.

Our job is not just to pray. It’s to be the answer to someone’s prayer.

As a Christian, my own thoughts go to the challenge of James. “Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes or daily food,” he wrote, long centuries ago. “If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well-fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? … Show me your faith without deeds and I will show you my faith by my deeds.”

What do we do?

Do we address the issue of guns? Of mental health? Do we dare look at the problem while it is fresh in our minds and burning in our hearts and offer some sort of answer to it? If nothing else, can we offer any assistance to those still alive, to the families forever scarred by this abominable act?

Or do we simply argue, and groan, and maybe offer a word or two of blame before running for cover? Stand vigil for a bit, change a Facebook image for a week or so, and then move on until the next horror?

If that’s what we want, there’s nothing easier in the world. Just keep it up.

If we want better, we have to work for it. Hope demands nothing less.

Yes, give thought to what has happened. Yes, pray by all means. But in those thoughts, in those prayers, look for the next step on the road. How do we come out of this quiet space ready to make life better?

What do we have to offer? What can we give? What can we create?

The time is now. A world waits.

What will we bring to the door?