"Wouldn't It Be Neat If" as a Neighborhood Strategy

Wouldn't it be neat if ...
... the broken and wounded around me were healed;
... my friends who are estranged were reconciled;
... racism targets in my city were celebrated for their differences;
... racist hearts were opened;
... the poor of our communities emerged into stability;
... the outcast around us were included among us;
... the secretly low-esteemed undeniably saw their worth;
... the hopeless found faith?

Wouldn't it be neat if all these came true?
Neat, indeed. And tidy. Without spot or stain spoiling the neatness of my own illusion.
Wouldn't that be neat?
But what if ... ?

What if ...
... the broken and wounded are healed only by us being broken, too;
... reconciliation comes only after we bother to listen;
... differences are celebrated only if we throw the party;
... racist hearts are opened only when we stand with the "other";
... the poor emerge only if we fight for their jobs;
... "us" is created only by paying less homage to "me";
... worth is communicated only by loving without condition;
... invisible faith blossoms only after seeing faith at work?

What if all these are true?
What if "wouldn't it be neat if" was never neat?

Toxic Dresses

Our sewing team is close to shipping their second batch of hundreds of dresses for the female students of Benard’s Vision School in western Kenya. The dresses are intended to preserve their school uniforms. The students get only one uniform per year, and for many, it is their only change of clothes. You can imagine how difficult it is to keep one uniform in good shape for active kids when it is worn every day for a year.

These sew-ers have had fun together doing great work making colorful, culturally appropriate dresses. The first batch of dresses brought enormous smiles to our students' faces, and the gratitude of those who run the schools. They have my personal gratitude as they touch the lives of many students I've met.

This may be the last time we send dresses. Why would that be? If it's has been such a positive experience for students and sew-ers, why would we not do it again? Because if we keep doing this, eventually we will cause more harm than good.

There is quite a good number of books that explore these concepts, the most popular being When Helping Hurts and Toxic Charity. They clearly explain how not all forms of “help” actually do good for the ones we intend to help. Sadly, many of the things we’re accustomed to doing can actually do great, systemic harm.

The first danger is dependency, which eventually leads to entitlement. By constantly giving material goods, especially apart from any kind of reciprocal relationship, we can create a kind of dependency similar to an addiction. The dependent ones become less able to do the very things they should be doing to help themselves, because it is continually done for them. Eventually, a sense of entitlement takes over, with a demandingness put on the givers.

Another danger is identity. By giving too many material goods too often, we can communicate to someone that they are less than, incapable, beneath the norm, or as one impoverished soul once said, “like the garbage of society that no one wants.” Furthermore, we mess up our own identities, by thinking that having material goods to share means we are not impoverished in any way, and that by giving to someone “in need,” we are their saviors.

On a more practical level, making dresses for Kenyan students can take away jobs from Kenyan dressmakers. Most of the clothes that get donated and shipped overseas are wreaking havoc on the local clothesmaking businesses. We have checked with the leaders in Kenya to make sure we have not been doing that, but sooner or later, we would be if we continue.

So what do we do now? We still want to help! Using clothes as an example, a better way for us to help is to buy sewing machines for Kenyan women to make clothes with, to help them be entrepreneurs. Maybe we donate the money to buy the cloth, and then pay the dressmakers to make dresses, so that they make a profit and get a business started. That’s just one example.

The one thing that brings people out of poverty is work. Not charity, not free clothing, not even free food. Work, jobs, business, entrepreneurship. Historically, it’s the only thing that has ever brought a community out of poverty. We can do better than making dresses, as good as making dresses has been.

Helping those in need is not at all about “doing something” so that we feel good about ourselves for having done something. It’s about submitting ourselves to the needs of others for their good.

The Missio Burb

I was so eager to hear Michael Frost speak. He's an Australian speaker in the missional movement who had a breakout session at a recent conference in KC, and he was scheduled to talk about a missional lifestyle in our neighborhoods. This has been a nebulous goal for us - we're smack dab in the suburbs with a desire to have a positive impact, but have been struggling to know what that might look like.

It's easy to see in the inner city and the urban core how to have impact. The needs are obvious - there's economic poverty, physical homelessness, substance abuse, and broken lives. Even in rural settings, the needs are visible, even if you have to dig a little bit. But in the 'burbs, people have hardly any visible needs. Plus we have our automatic garage doors, air-conditioning, and 6-foot fences, all which minimize natural opportunities to get to know our neighbors. So, Frost's session promised to be enlightening.

The first words out of his mouth were something like, "You Americans. I don't know how to be missional in the suburbs. Now, let's talk about the neighborhood...," as he proceeded to talk about locales where people naturally do life together, go to the same market, eat and drink at the same pub, and don't move away often. In other words, all the things we don't do in the 'burbs. His talk was rich and wonderful, but even he has no clue how to be missional in the 'burbs. But the 'burbs are where we are. We have the missio burb.

The session that followed Frost's was specifically about the 'burbs, and also extremely helpful, led by a couple living in the 'burbs north of Dallas. They introduced some creative, helpful ideas. I also picked up some good nuggets from the plenary sessions that helped me get a better grasp of living life on mission in the 'burbs.

In the 'burbs, we see very little economic poverty. But what we do see is relational poverty. There are many in the 'burbs who do not enough deep, authentic relationships. We are more isolated, we spend more time alone, we immerse ourselves in electronics and social media, and we are hidden behind our 6-foot fences wallowing in relational poverty. We have friends, but we're not rich in authentic friendships.

In the 'burbs, we see very little physical homelessness. But what we do is social homelessness. People in the 'burbs have less sense of "neighborhood," of community, of a sense of "home." We often live hundreds of miles away from family and where we grew up. We have to travel for the holidays. We are like those without a home ... we have a nice shelter over our heads instead of cardboard, but we still feel displaced.

I think there's a powerful effect in using the words poverty and homelessness. They paint wordpictures to describe what many in the 'burbs feel. City dwellers who mock the 'burbs often brag about the sense of community they enjoy. These two words also provoke compassion that we automatically have for their physical counterparts. Our hearts hurt for the poor and homeless, but we have a tougher time feeling that for our neighbors in the 'burbs. And yet there are plenty of "poor" and "homeless" living on our own blocks!

We actually can add value to the 'burbs. Just because our neighbors don't have many visible needs, there are plenty of ways that we can offer relational wealth and a social neighborhood.

Think about your rhythms of life as family. Then think about ways to include your neighbors in some of those rhythms. Add value to your neighborhood. Fight against poverty and homelessness.