As I prepared the story about the Sunday Soups program for today’s paper I did so with an element of guilt.
First Presbyterian, after all, is my church, but I’m not an active participant in the soup program.
Truth is, I try to avoid what I think may be an unpleasant experience. And face it, people are messy.
Can’t I just write a check?
Something tells me that falls short of what Jesus had in mind. As I recollect, he didn’t pick and choose whom he served
And of course, the experience Sunday afternoon was perfectly delightful.
Those who came for the free meal were polite, respectful and appreciative. The work was not hard, nor long. The fellowship was rewarding.
No one “burdened” me with his or her life story.
I’m not proud of this side of me. It’s a sign of privilege that I all too often hide behind.
I figure the first step to coming out from behind such a wall is to recognize it is keeping me from living a more engaged life. I am the poorer for not having such people in my life. And because our society is skewed to favor those who have, it is my place to extend the invitation.
The second step is to realize it takes repeated interaction to bridge the societal divide. The poor, after all, have as many damaging assumptions about the well-to-do as the other way around.
It’s going to take some time to earn trust on both sides of the fence.
And the third step is to believe that with such exchanges we can get to a place where we can work together, building a stronger community.
In this season of giving, the hardest gift to give is of yourself. But it’s also the most meaningful.
Snap judgments get in my way of serving others (column)
