Last night at the NCCZ, we asked the question: What does it mean to be intentional during this time? We say that we want to be just as intentional during the NCCZ as we are when we build. It is a time to talk with each other, but not just about anything.
We have always thought of the Bed Project as more than building beds for kids that are sleeping on the floor. We wanted it to be more of a journey, a journey of compassion. To put ourselves in the hot seat, we asked: How are we doing with that journey? If we are on a journey, we should have stories to tell. If we are moving on that journey, we should have seen some new things. We should have encountered dangers and adventures. It should be anything but boring.
But, as John Lennon reportedly said, life is what happens to you when you are making other plans. There lies our challenge. It is easy enough to make beds for kids who don’t have any; compassion doesn’t even have to be involved to get that done. We worked a good two hours on beds last night. Was compassion involved or were we just using power tools? Did we see it passing? There was a moment last night where the doorway to compassion cracked open, if just for a moment.
We found a full size box spring and mattress recently. Last night, we worked on making a headboard for a bed frame. We plan on giving this bed to a woman who lives next door to Heather and Kirby. We learned about her when we were delivering Heather’s bed. In a moment of real connection, Heather had asked us how we found the families to give beds to. She told us about her neighbor who had been in the Woman and Children First shelter and had moved into the apartment next door to her. She did not have a bed. We went next door to meet her. She lived alone in her empty apartment with a couch, which she slept on, a coffee table, and a TV. The coffee table had many bottles of medicine on it, making me wonder if she was in poor health. At the time, we could not promise her anything because we were broke (we are always broke, but we try not to let that stop us). We told her we would see what we could do. That was about a month ago.
Keith had called her yesterday to tell her we had a mattress for her, but we would not be able to deliver it to her for about another week because we were building her a headboard. She responded, “Oh, do I get a headboard? I haven’t had a bed with a headboard since I was a little girl. I am so excited.”
That moment that Keith told us that story was like a subtle hint, or a fleeting, peripheral glimpse. Did we see it? Did we turn to look? Was it there or was it gone?
5 comments:
I often find myself in the same mindset. I think more about the wheelchair ramp or the new floor than I do about the person who will be using it and what that means for them, for their relationship with God, and for repairing the brokenness of this world. I find your ideas on compassion interesting? Do we have to be in contact with others to truly have compassion?
Ben:
I think by definition, it does, if you accept the dictionary.com's definition of compassion: "a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering."
Seems that awareness of the other who is stricken by misfortune is a necessary, though not sufficient, condition of compassion.
But in our culture, we can easily insulate ourself from the other and from our own hearts, where compassion must arise.
What are your thoughts about it?
Note to Self:
We should not have let that moment pass without at least acknowledging it as a window, or an invitation to something greater. Once acknowledged, maybe we should have stopped right there and dropped in. Maybe we should have explored the moment more. Maybe we should have fed off of each other in drilling down. We should have worked that moment into full blown compassion. Let's not let the next moment pass by so easily.
I think that we confuse awareness for compassion. Just to know, without action isn't enough. So its not as if we are directly doing wrong, but rather, indirectly hurting others through our lack of action. In the end i think it comes down to our general unwillingness to take on anyone else's burdens but our own. That takes time, effort, and can often cause just as much pain. But in the end, the Good News for me is that I have the freedom to love God and love others through my actions. John Wesley had three simple rules for ethical living. "Do no harm" "Do all the good you can" "Stay in the love of God". These have pushed me to make compassionate decisions, and to be more intentional with the things that I purchase, how I spend my time, and it has been very challenging. Wesley was huge on compassion. I could recommend some of his writings
Right on, Ben. Awareness without the action is, at best, sympathy. What is missing is the "strong desire to alleviate the suffering."
I think awareness is a good first step, but it is not the destination.
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