I wonder why people often hold me to a greater level of responsibility, why they get disappointed in me when I don't live to certain expectations, while claiming they're, “Only human,” when they mess up? My mission in life is to destroy the myth that young people have nothing to say and nothing to contribute to the body of Christ. I'm a firm believer that we can learn from one another. The brevity and certainty of life has nothing to do with how many years I've lived, but have everything to do with how I lived with the years I've got.
by Neil Brown
“We don't do car repair.” That’s what I was told over the
summer. And you want to talk about angry. I had to remember, “Be
angry, but sin not”. And it was tough. I believe that anger
comes from not being acknowledged in some form or other. And
maybe that’s why I found myself irritated. But let me take you
back into the summer of trials and tribs. Now, I have lived on
my own for a few years now. And admittedly, I was “concerned”
about whether or not I could do it all on my own. Rent,
groceries, car insurance, utilities, I mean handling everything
on my own. Colorado is not a cheap state to live in on your own,
we very expensive. I guess you've got to pay to live here
underneath the mountains and stuff, and I have to say that I
have done ok. But 2003, has not been a great year for me.
After the blue “hoopdy” died in June, everything spiraled out of
control. So a friend helped me out with car to drive for a week.
And then another friend gave me a car that they were not using.
Yes, I did say gave (Praise God in the key of A flat…let me have
17 seconds). Now, I drove that SUV for less than a month and it
died. The thing vomited its guts out from the inside of the
transmission. Well, by this time, I have depleted my “rainy day”
stash of cash between 2 cars that have died on me in less than a
month! Well the second was towed to a guy that I trust up the
street. He’s saved and straight forward with me and I like that
trait in people. Understand that I’m hoping that he can help me
with good news. Two days later, he has none. There’s nothing
that he can do because his garage does not do transmissions. So
you already know that this is expensive! And he recommends
another place that could help me. Towing is free, diagnostic is
free (another shout in half step higher please… 7 seconds).
Now, the problem is that I don’t have enough cash to pay for the
entire repair, in fact I got none! So I agonize over doing the
one thing that I said I would never do, ask my church for
benevolence. I figured that I’m a member in good standing, I
have never been this route ever, I’ve sent people who need help
to my church to get what they need. So I endured the
embarrassing questions about my finances and why I was so messed
up.
Now understand, I have helped to hold to the choir together
without a musician, was the youth minister without much support,
taught Sunday School, helped with the youth bible study, been
faithful to my place of worship, ya’ll. Tried to apply all my
gifts everywhere I could. It took a few days for someone to
reconnect with me and let me know that after a few years here at
this church, “We just don’t do car repair”.
Now, are you ready for the icing on the cake, they offered to
help me get a bus pass. And that’s when the room went dizzy and
I began to feel unstable. My knees were buckling underneath me
and real time warped into something very surrealistic. And all I
could think of was, “You gotta be kidding me? Nothing at all,
not a penny?” How do I get back and forth to work, when my hours
vary from week to week? Ain’t got enough credit to obtain more
transportation. No where to turn, no one else to call on, no
options left.
“What do you do when living right don’t work?” That’s what
Bishop Jakes said once in a sermon about silent frustration. I
felt deserted, cold and alone. Because I could see saying no
when you’ve come around one too many times. I could see no when
you continue to ask for handouts. But, I didn’t ask for a
handout, I asked for a hand up because I had no where else to
go. I would have worked off the benevolence or paid it back. I
was in a real jam, a real rock in a hard place. I went home that
evening after being told no car repair, after choir rehearsal,
and— I kid you not— cried like a baby over a bottle waiting for
his mother to hold him and reassure him. I just broke, and then
I got livid. I got pissed off and all I could do to release was
scream and holla out loud. And even in telling you this, words
cannot describe that night. I called a friend who understood
because he too was having the summer of hell. But it worked to
talked about it with someone because I had to muster up the
strength to worship on Sunday.
And I got to church on Sunday and felt like everyone was looking
at me and giggling behind my back. Sunday was a raw experience,
I tried to worship, I tried to give praise, I tried to extol and
come into the service with thanksgiving and enter the courts…but
I felt angry. I went down to the altar call to have prayer. I
had to get this off me. I didn’t want to be in service angry and
defeated. Is this what Jesus felt like going into Passion week?
Knowing that He was going to die, feeling betrayed and he still
had no malice and no vengeful thoughts? I felt like, in a way,
that I was being crucified. That my self-worth was under attack,
that my faith was under attack, that my life had been put on
trial and was sentenced to death. It was awful.
I’m still healing.
IIt is a process, and it ain’t easy. God taught what the hymnist
wrote, “Only what you do for Christ will last”. And putting my
confidence in man, I was let down. No I don’t think that the
hurt and the anger was intentional. I don’t think my church was
trying to inflict emotional or spiritual harm on me on purpose.
I suppose in a lot ways it must have hurt some of them too.
Knowing that they would not help. But, I’d be lying if I said it
didn’t really make me look at life.
I suppose, on some level, I felt like faithfulness should work a
lot like Social Security. Years of devoted service, years of
making it on my own, of not asking the church for anything, and
never, not even once, receiving money or gifts from the church,
should count for something. Should be bank for when it is my
turn. When it is me standing in the need. But that is secular
thinking. That is how the world works. The world repays kindness
for kindness. We are, by contrast, commanded to love one another
regardless of circumstance. Regardless of investment.
My pastor once incited a small riot in Bible study by suggesting
that, as Christians, we are obligated to help those who need
help. Regardless of their history. regardless of their
circumstances. The Pastor made the argument that even if we know
the seeker is not living up to our standards or God's standards,
our obligation is to help if we can. We should not humiliate
them or rob them of their dignity by putting them through an
intense process. He specifically said, in Bible study, that we
should not police what the seeker uses the money for. It is not
our duty or our obligation to judge the seeker or examine the
person in need. That's God's job, to deal with that person. Our
job is to help if we can. I can only imagine he was directing
this teaching at our trustees and church managers who make these
kinds of decisions.
I think it is easier and more productive to help someone fix
their car than risk them losing their job and therefore needing
help on a much greater scope should homelessness ensue. I'm
wounded and baffled by this process, by whatever logic the
decision makers applied, and I question which Bible they're
reading and question how this decision lines up with the
Pastor's own teaching. Most of all, I'm saddened by the apparent
fact that a total stranger could attain help from my church
while I could not.
I know now why people do not turn to us for help...us church
folk. We are not always a refuge for help, or a safe haven. We
are not always easy to talk to. We are not always empathetic. We
are not always going to display the fruits of the spirit. I’m
still healing. My chest wounds have begun to scab over, slowly
but surely. My self-esteem is returning and I suspect that it
will be stronger than before.
My faith has been shaken, but it too will return deeper and more
meaningful. For God has proven Himself faithful once more in my
life. He’s helping me to put the pieces back together again so
that I will have a clearer picture of who He is at this stage of
my development. I feel better each day, but every once in a
while I do like my Granny says, “Honey, I fell of my donkey, but
I’ll ride again one day just as soon as my wounds heal and I
dust myself off.”
Neil M. Brown
30 November 2003
holla@neilbrown.org
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