Friday, August 25, 2017

More Than a Glass of Water in the Desert

Usually our church’s summer mission trips focus on giving aid to people who have gone through a natural disaster: tornadoes, floods, and hurricanes.  Last month, although we travelled to West Virginia to assist flood victims, our efforts were directed more to people struggling to get by in situations of poverty.  For example, Michelle, who owns the home where I worked, is a single mother who is unable to work, trying to get by on disability checks and what extra money she can earn breeding pedigree dogs.  She is a giver, not a taker, helping neighbors “with money I don’t have” with their own struggles.

It’s one thing to help people going through a crisis, to help them get back on their feet.  But how can we best help people like Michelle, or the residents of the Montana Indian reservation we visited on our first mission trip?  They greatly appreciated our efforts, and Michelle now has a dry, insulated room ready for the winter.  She is grateful for that blessing, but her overall situation still has not changed.  She will still struggle to pay her bills, or decide what necessities she can do without.  She still lives in a community with no jobs, even if she was able to work.  She will still have to wrestle with the dark emotions that rise up from living in a seemingly hopeless situation. 

Our week with her brought a ray of sunshine into her darkness, and we improved her living conditions a bit.  Or as we say here at Old Union, we encouraged her and built her up.  But how much of a difference did we make for her overall?  Did we give a glass of water to someone in the desert, but leave her in the blazing heat?  Did we pull someone out of a ditch, but leave her stranded on the side of the road?

Jesus told a story about a Samaritan who gave aid to someone who had been beaten and left for dead (Luke 10).  As he tells the tale, “when he saw him, he took pity on him.  He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine.”  The Samaritan helped the man, but he was still weak and wounded, unable to fend for himself.  So he put the man on his donkey, took him to an inn, and took care of him.  He then paid the innkeeper to continue to care for the man until he was fully healed.  The Samaritan was not satisfied with half-way measures.  He continued to encourage and build up the man until he was restored to full health and strength.

I wonder if at times we are satisfied with half-way measures of our own.  We fix someone’s house without addressing the causes of her poverty.  We give school supplies to children in need, but do little to help them and their families be able to care for themselves.  Half-way measures feel good, because we see immediate results.  We can be the knights in shining armor, helping them in their distress.  We pat ourselves on the back, pleased with the encouragement and up-building we have done.  But the sources of their struggles remains.


How can we be more like the Good Samaritan in the encouragement we give?  I don’t know, but I hope that together we can look for some answers.