September 15, 2015
About a decade ago, I walked to work every day through parts of town that featured many prostitutes and homeless folk. Whenever someone asked me for money, I had always had a mix of uncomfortable feelings:
1. I wasn’t planning on this on decision whether to give, so I always felt unfairly pressured to make a decision in the moment. It was irritating.
2. While I could certainly afford to spare a dollar, I hated the responsibility for the instant assessment I felt was my responsibility: Will this person use the money for drugs or alcohol? Am I reinforcing problem behavior?
3. And what about my Christian duty to help the poor? If I don’t give, am I neglecting God’s ethic of loving unconditionally?
All of these feelings were uncomfortable, and I felt annoyed I had to keep facing this situation during my daily commute.
Then I realized all my reasons for not giving were a cop-out. In the gospels, Jesus is not depicted as evaluating the requests of others. Rather, he said,
“Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.” (Luke 6:30-31)
These two verses are from a section of the “Sermon on the Plain” in which Jesus says love trumps our rights, love trumps our reputation, love trumps our stuff, and love trumps our money. (Luke 6:27-38)
So, I decided to take all the pressure out of these encounters. I simply made sure I always carried at least one dollar bill in my pocket. And I decided I would give that dollar to anyone who asked, without evaluation. I continued that practice until I gave up walking for skateboarding about a year later. That was a good year, but before I reveal my experience with this change, I’ll bring you up to the present.
After I lost my downtown job to the recession, I commuted to work by car for a few years. But, for the past two marvelous years, I have been working downtown again – and walking to work again. So, I resumed my practice of carrying money for the poor, but with one twist: Previously, I had those dollar bills mixed in with other dollars, or even fives and tens, and I felt awkward and stingy pulling a bunch of bills from my pocket to peel off a single one to bequeath to this lowly beggar (at least that’s what it felt like.) So, I got into the habit of always carrying at least one dollar bill in my otherwise-unoccupied back pocket. The results have been life giving for me. Here are a few features of these experiences:
1. The money in my back pocket isn’t mine. I have already moved these dollars from “my property” in my front pocket to my back pocket. In my mind, that act transfers ownership of them to the next person who asks before they even ask! We Christians are fond of saying, “My money doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to God.” But if we’re honest, we rarely act like we believe that. In one wonderfully small way, my back pocket dollars free me from this conflict, and it feels great to be free of it.
2. No more assessment. I’ve decided beforehand I will give those back pocket dollars to anyone who asks – without evaluation. Conflict managed: Check!
3. But the sweetest part is how this practice has changed my relationships with those who ask me for money. All conflicts have been eliminated, and even before the person is finished asking, my hand is on its way to my back pocket – and my eyes never leave that person’s face. My eyes never disconnect from a fellow human in need; my eyes never miss the ever-present humiliation in the eyes of one who must ask. My eyes, and my heart, never miss the chance to offer love to a fellow traveler walking through this often-difficult journey we call life. And my Christian spirit doesn’t miss the chance to offer dignity to those who feel they are “less.” It’s such a win-win solution, and I wasn’t prepared for how much life and joy it has given me.
It’s been hard for me to identify as a Christian in this era of hate filled culture wars. My back pocket dollars help me feel immeasurably grateful Jesus taught me about love.