Unplanned, Simple Service

Mormon Matters has an interesting article on the affect that the Preach My Gospel system will have on future church leadership. The article linked to one sentence in the manual on page 167. Second on the list of ways to find people to teach is "Look for opportunities to offer simple service."

I couldn't agree more. I served the first part of my mission in a very poor country. My trainer was a good missionary and a very hard worker. I remember learning to speed-walk/run to keep up with him as we went from appointment to appointment, most of them dogged (read: the person didn't show up, for those not familiar with the missionary lingo).

One day we were walking up a hill on a cobblestone street. The road was busy but I noticed an old man pulling a cart behind him. As fast as we were going, the man seamed to be standing still. His face seamed lifeless. He was probably headed to the marketplace to sell whatever was in his cart. The thought came to my mind, "Perhaps we should stop to help him pull his cart up the hill." But then I thought of the appointment we were headed to and how my trainer was already a few paces ahead of me. So as quickly as the man had entered my mind, he was left in our dust.

But the man never left my mind. I don't remember what happened in the appointment, but I'll never forget the man we could have helped and didn't. I don't remember him out of guilt, but rather out of a desire to remember to not be so busy that I forget the simple acts of service that are available to me every day.

And There Came a Certain Poor Widow...

Mark 12:42 ...and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing.

43 And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury:

44 For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living.

My second post on this blog is my favorite. In it, I ask the question, "Who is my neighbor?" I believe that question is much more nuanced than many believe. Who do we serve? Why am I so concerned with my friend who is in trouble, but not as concerned about the millions that suffer throughout the world? That question remains on my mind, but today I turn my attention to a different but related question:

As for how much to serve, how much is too little and how much is too much? By service, I'm talking about all forms--giving of time, effort, and resources for the benefit of those in need. To answer this question I'll start by examining the extreme viewpoints.

One defendable philosophy is that we should be fully engaged in service as long as there are people less fortunate than ourselves. Such a philosophy is grounded in complete self-denial. How can I justify have any luxury while there are people who are hungry and sick? How can I justify eating when there are people who are starving to death? Such a person would indeed succeed at reducing the number of those less fortunate to zero, but not because he helped any one person very much, but because in his Herculean effort to lift others, he reduced himself to the least fortunate person on earth.

Most of us would consider such a person to be foolish, although well-intended and maybe even admirable. But what about the widow who gave everything she had? Imagine you are a bishop who knows an old widow in your ward. She has barely enough to pay her rent and buy the basic essentials. One Sunday she hands you her fast offering and you discover that it is a great deal of money for someone so poor. You are confident it must be her entire savings. What would you do? I don't know what I would do, but I would seriously consider paying her a visit and urging her to take it back.

One the other hand, imagine the child of the person I described before. Resentful of growing up with nothing because of his parent's complete selflessness, he decides that everything he earns is his own. Giving to others denies the law of justice, which says that we reap what we sow. Most of us would consider this person selfish and unchristian, but it is this philosophy that is at the heart of capitalism, which most of us support.

Of course, the correct way is somewhere in between these two extremes. But where is the line? How do we know if we're being too selfish, or giving too much? I don't have the answer, but here are a few thoughts:

We should give all we can, but should provide for ourselves and the needs of our families first. This is supported by Mosiah 4:24. This seems like a reasonable approach, except that it is not always clear what is a legitimate need. Do I need to own a car? Well, if I want to get to work I probably do. But I could have just moved closer to work so that I could walk, and probably get a cheaper house too. So the line is still vague.

So I'm back to the old stand-by: follow the Spirit (I know you were thinking that the whole time, right?). There is no cookie-cutter answer. We should give as much as we feel we can, and pray to have the guidance to know how to balance our needs with our charity. Great, problem solved. But, that answer, although the most reasonable, is not very settling to me...

Would the Spirit approve of the things I bought last year: a new patio set, a swing set, a laptop computer? Does the gospel allow for luxury? Surely I'm not alone in considering this question, as I know many members who live in relative luxury, but who I still consider good Christians (and I'm sure they give a lot as well). How do we reconcile this? Are we fooling ourselves?

All I Want For Christmas Is...

My almost-one-year-old son has always been big. He was born big and he's still big. As a result, he goes through clothes fast. He was already too big for his infant clothes when he was born. Now, he's already wearing 2T to 3T clothes. That means we've gone through a lot of sizes in the last year, and it always seems we're a step behind and his clothes are always too small.

My almost-four-year old daughter hears us say often, "This shirt is just too small. We really need to get him some new clothes." Although I never knew how much she had been thinking about it until her Grandma took her to the mall to see Santa. When we picked her up from Grandma's house we, of course, asked her what she told Santa that she wanted for Christmas.

"I asked for new clothes for baby brother." she said. I don't think I've ever heard of asking for something for your siblings from Santa, but the request gets even more unique: "But I want him to give them to me so that I can give them to him."

That's a very peculiar request indeed. But surely Santa will be accommodating to the desire of a little girl to help her brother. I just wonder what she will think in 20 years when we watch the Christmas video and she sees that Santa got her little boy clothes. It never ceases to amaze me how much she loves her brother. My kids are a great example to me of brotherly, and sisterly, love.

Building the Kingdom, Stone by Stone

At the start of my mission I was struggling to reconcile how much effort we were expending--physical and otherwise--and how little progress we were seeing while trying to build up a small branch. Somehow, I thought of the builders of the Salt Lake Temple. It took them 40 years to build the temple, and my understanding is that it was all done by the general membership, without pay. I imagined what it would be like to work in the quarry--cutting stones every day and sending them off the in the wagon. Did those guys feel like they were making a difference? Did they feel like they were building the kingdom? Perhaps they did, but I imagine there were some days where they felt like all of the hard work was yielding slow, if any, progress. What about the skilled artists who carved the stone designs? I imagine their job was slightly more rewarding, but still after several years it would have become monotonous. A person who was 20 when the building began would have been 60 when it finished. The fact that it was finished is a testament to the faith and diligence of the people.

Of course there are many stories of faith in Mormon history, the most obvious of which is the Mormon pioneers with their handcarts walking across the continent seeking religious freedom. But what makes the building of the temple special as well is that it was not under extreme circumstances. These were normal people, going about their normal, daily lives, who were also doing something great over a long period of time.

Now, whenever I feel like progress is going slow, I think of the man in the quarry.

One Laptop Per Child

When I first saw this I thought it must be a joke. But no, it's completely serious. For just $400 you can give a laptop in Africa (and get one yourself). Here's a blurb from the website:

"The mission of One Laptop Per Child (OLPC) is to empower the children of developing countries to learn by providing one connected laptop to every school-age child. In order to accomplish our goal, we need people who believe in what we’re doing and want to help make education for the world’s children a priority, not a privilege."

Ah yes, the laptop--the staple of education. How did we ever learn with it? Seriously, I applaud them for trying to do something, but is this really the right way? My children don't have laptops and I imagine they won't have one for a long time. Will the children of Africa suddenly be educated if they have a laptop? I think our resources might be better directed toward training teachers in Africa, or fighting some of the factors that distract kids away from education like AIDS and starvation. Connectivity in comparison seems a tad lower of the list.

Boasting vs. "Let Your Light So Shine"

An interesting commentary on the Church web site raises an interesting question about our humanitarian efforts. Could it be charitable to boast?

Practicing Service

Last week someone rang our doorbell and ran away, leaving a bag of candy on our doorstep with a poem attached. It was one of those things that says to find 3 friends and do the same service within 48 hours. My wife took is very seriously, but I didn't. "That's not really service" I said, "It's a bag of candy!".

I'm prone to this kind of thinking. Sometimes when I sit in Elders quorum (before I was a primary teacher) and hear talk about people helping people move or whatever and I think, "We are a quorum of Elders in God's kingdom. Isn't there something really important we're supposed to be doing? Something that will change people's lives?"

Today in Church we found out that one of the boys in our ward was diagnosed with cancer. Their family will be basically living in the hospital. They have 3 kids and 1 on the way. Talk about tough. The ward is going to be bringing them meals and no doubt serving them in many different ways. I'm reminded of Bishop Edgley's talk on Enduring together, in which he says, "The Lord’s organization is fully adequate to know and care for those with even the most dire emotional and spiritual needs." That's a lot to live up to.

After thinking about the boy in our ward and Bishop Edgley's talk, I realized why it is so important that we do the small acts of service--the bags of candy and the move assistance. It's not because those acts are so meaningful on their own, in my opinion. It is because they are practice. Often the moments when we really can help make a difference in someone's lives take us by surprise. If we are not prepared--if we are not ready--we might miss them and leave someone in need. Just as our muscles require constant exercise to maintain their strength, we need to exercise our habit for service, so that when we really need to serve it will be instinctual.

Next time someone brings a bag of candy to my door, I won't take it so lightly.

Who is my neighbor? Really.

A lawyer asked Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?" Christians are familiar with the parable Jesus used to answer his question. So what's the answer? That's easy; I was taught that in primary. Everyone is my neighbor. Simple. Problem solved. Or maybe it's not so simple.

Listening to General Conference this past weekend, I heard at least two speakers (Elder Wirthlin and Elder Snow) quote Jesus saying that loving our neighbor is the second greatest commandment. Both spoke of love and serving others, and both were among my favorite talks of conference.

Elder Snow listed several categories of service: our church callings, in our families, and in our communities. But what about everyone else? What about the starving children in Africa, or the orphans in Russia?

Let me be clear that I am not criticizing him for not mentioning our responsibility for world-wide service. There may have been a reason why it was omitted, and it certainly is beyond the scope of one conference talk to enumerate all the ways in which we should serve others. Still, it seems like when we talk about service in the church, we usually talk about service to those around us, and people far away are often an after-thought. An exception to this is after some massive natural disaster.

I'm left to ponder whether it is more important to serve my neighbor down the street than on the other side of the world. If so, why could this by?

1) Perhaps by saying we should serve in our communities, we are including our world-wide community. But that doesn't seem consistent with the examples we often site.

2) Perhaps world-wide service is not emphasized because it's not practical that the church should expect us all to hop a plane and go to Africa. But there are other ways to serve, such as supporting the Red Cross, which we are able to do.

3) Perhaps it's not emphasized because the Church has a humanitarian program that is doing much good. Still, that doesn't feel like it absolves by responsibility, does it? At least I should be reminded to support that effort.

4) Perhaps the thinking is that if we all help out in our neighborhoods, everyone in need will be taken care of. But that assumes people who can help are evenly distributed geographically.

If my neighbor was diagnosed with some terminal disease, surely I would want to help, in whatever way I could that was not too intrusive. Don't I have the same responsibility to help those who are diseased and hungry across the world?

So who is my neighbor? Really.

Child-like Service

As I lay my son down for his mid-morning nap, I noticed a small teddy bear in his crib. This seamed strange to me, as we never put toys in his crib. But suddenly I realized how it got there.

My two kids are on a very early schedule, so I'm usually awakened by the whimpers of my son over the baby monitor. It takes a few minutes to rub the sleep from my eyes and go and get him out of his crib. On the way I pass my 3-year old daughter's room and peek in. Like always, she is already up and playing downstairs (she learned a few weeks ago that if she comes and gets us when she wakes up, we'll send her back to bed: "It's to early" we moan. But if she goes downstairs and plays quietly she can stay up).

I got my son out of his crib without noticing the teddy bear. But when I saw it later I knew what must have happened. Hearing the cries of her brother, my daughter had gone into his room and tried to soothe him the best way she knew how: with a toy to play with.

Now, I know my daughter loves her brother, and she's always willing to help him when we ask. When we're changing him: "Honey, can you get him a diaper?" When he's crying and we're busy getting ready to go to church: "Can you sing him a song?" She's always willing to help. But what made this special is that we weren't watching. She didn't expect any praise from us. She did it just because she loves her brother.

Of course, nothing we do goes unseen by our Father in heaven. But if this small act of kindness between siblings meant so much to me, how much joy must our Father feel when we serve a brother or sister in need? Many times more so when we do it out of love, instead of obligation.