Alms

During Lent we are supposed to be more deliberate about giving alms. I think this is mostly what Great Lent is all about – not hedging back the world, but actively disenfranchising ourselves to be with those whom Jesus Christ came to serve. I decided a few years ago not to talk about times when I give. The Sermon on the Mount seems pretty clear to me on this point: I can be rewarded with fanfare now, or by the One who sees in secret later. So let's just say that, like most people, I give, but not enough. While I won't talk about specific episodes of giving, I did want to share a few lessons I have learned about giving.

The first lesson I have learned is not to deprive myself of chances to meet Jesus, who said he is in the "least of these." While giving donations to charitable organizations is a good practice, writing "disembodied checks" should not excuse us from facing Christ in the face of the poor. Maybe looking a beggar in the eye makes me uncomfortable, but I'm pretty sure looking Jesus Christ in the eye would make me uncomfortable, too.

On that note, I have also been learning to touch the homeless. My friend, Doug, first introduced me to this practice. I noticed that he actually put his arm around homeless people he met, he looked them in the eye, and he asked for their names. He treated them like people. Every age has had its lepers, its nameless outcasts. The lepers of our age are the homeless. They are "unclean." And Christ touched the unclean. Therefore, I believe we should make it a point to shake the hands of those who ask for our money, to ask their names, and in some small way to remind them that they too bear the image of God.

Finally, I have been learning to give in faith. I know that the "correct" thing is to give in suspicion. "After all," says common opinion, "the beggar might take my money and buy booze or drugs. Then I'm just an enabler." I have to say this reasoning makes sense to me, but it just seems so cynical. I could assume the worst about a person – that because this person is a beggar, she is obviously a liar; thus I need to decide what is best for her. Or I could give in the faith that she is being truthful – that she will use our gift for a good purpose. Of course, maybe the best thing is not to give money, but to buy the homeless beggar a meal. I applaud those who drop everything and dine with beggars whenever they are asked for money, but I have found that when I followed that line of reasoning I mostly used my busy schedule as an excuse to do nothing. Taking a beggar at his word may be naive, but thinking the best about the people I meet just seems like the more Christian thing to do. After all, the beggars I meet are Jesus.

Orthodoxy: Not Seeker Sensitive

"For no one is going to say that he does any service to a spring by drinking from it, or to the light by beholding it." – St Augustine (City of God X.5)

Worship is a gift. God certainly does not need it. Worshiping the Creator is the creature's destiny – the only source of her happiness. God does not need worship; we do! But there is a trap in this truth – an ironic temptation to which so many "contemporary" or "seeker sensitive" folks succumb. We need worship, but worship is not for us.

Thus we must worship God to be happy, but we must not worship God to make ourselves happy. For then we are not worshiping God but ourselves.

This morning, as a visiting friend attempted to keep up with the liturgy, I was reminded of how long and complicated our services are, especially during Lent. Orthodoxy is overwhelming. We are the ecclesial equivalent of the dad who teaches his son to swim by tossing him in the lake. So no wonder advocates of seeker-sensitive services complain about our worship being long and difficult to understand.

This criticism comes from a good place, but it wrongly presumes that more than being for us, worship is about us. The truth is that worship is supposed to be demanding, because it is about God. In the end this may be what the "enquirer" finds appealing about ancient worship. In the demand they detect authenticity. It's sink or swim.