What does the Lord require of you?

I am returning to my earlier series on giving to roadside beggars with this guest post by Lezley (Peach) McDouall.  I first met Peach at Duke Divinity School – I was a student and she was a teaching assistant, especially well-loved for her gracious and extensive comments on student papers. We attend the same church together, and I value her insight and her friendship.  You can read more of Peach’s writing on the blog of Saint Luke’s Episcopal Church.

In response to Sarah’s question about giving money to people who beg, it’s important to begin by saying that my answer is not meant to be everyone’s answer. The movement of the Spirit is delicate and various, sanctifying the whole by blessing each unique part uniquely. So here is what I have been given to understand:

While attending seminary in Berkeley CA, I attended All Souls parish church nearby. This parish had a monthly Open-Door Dinner for anyone who wanted to be fed some chicken jambalaya, rice, corn, and cookies. The task I enjoyed most, which other parishioners seemed less comfortable doing, was hanging out in the courtyard with the folks who were waiting to eat. I made sure the coffeepot and its accessories stayed full, handed out numbered tickets, and invited in groups of 10 ticket-holders at a time so the servers/seats weren’t overcrowded.

Talking to the folks who were waiting helped me understand how incredibly various the stories of homeless people are. Talking to one man in particular, who had been a math teacher, was an epiphany for me. He taught me that most people on the street are chronically sleep-deprived, and that many who are addicted &/or mentally-ill become addicted &/or mentally-ill on the street, self-medicating for sleeplessness, depression, and constant anxiety. That possibility had never occurred to me, or to any housed individual I’d ever talked with about “the plight of the homeless.”

Each person of faith has Touchstone Scriptures that are particularly authoritative for them. Even the literalists have to make some choices. I happen to be something of a ‘red-letter fundamentalist,’ which is to say that while I don’t consider everything in the Bible to be God’s Binding Word On All Generations™, I take the words of Jesus Christ particularly seriously. I tend to read them as if He meant exactly what He said, even knowing that much of what He says is impossible for us.

E.g., “Love one another as I have loved you” (unto death on a cross); “Give to everyone who asks you” (until you have nothing left? See quote 1); “Judge not, lest ye be judged” (yike!); and “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

What does this mean, concretely, about the guy with a sign next to the freeway? It’s way too easy for me to over-think this, to try to guess his particular situation or suss what he ‘really needs’ rather than simply give what he’s asking. So I devised a personal metric:

1) Do I have any cash? (I often don’t). If yes, then
2) Am I, or can I get into, the right lane? If yes, then
3) Is the light red, or (in a non-traffic-light situation) can I stop here without blocking traffic unduly? If yes, then
4) I give money.

I consider that if the above conditions are fulfilled, the Spirit has maneuvered me into a position to help THIS person in THIS way on THIS day. If any question gets a ‘no,’ I consider that this isn’t the task I’ve been allotted at the moment – maybe next time, or maybe some of my tithe will reach them via an agency our parish supports. In any case, I pray for them, hope for them, and ask God to lift up all who are oppressed by this evil economic system, which discards precious human beings as though they weren’t beloved children of the Most High.

I know my metric is simplistic, but it prevents me from experiencing utter anguish and frustration with our political context repeatedly, day after day. I’m already on meds for depression. I help some people, I remove personal judgment of my fellow humans from the decision, and I trust that God is in action in their lives as well as my own. May God soon bring us all to that Kingdom where this decision will be completely unnecessary.

Children’s Bible Stories?

A year ago, a little girl told my (non-church-going) niece that she was going to Hell because she didn’t know a particular Bible story. This has all worked itself out in the meantime, with the two little girls each coming to a broader understanding of the world, and becoming friends. But one lingering effect of the initial trauma has been my niece’s conviction that in order to understand certain people, she is going to need to know about the Bible.
I would know just how to proceed if she were 14. But from what I have been able to see, the quality of younger children’s Bible story books is, at best, inadequate. Story lines are altered to suit rhyming schemes, works righteousness abounds, God is everywhere “He,” and the single thrust of most every story is that it is our bounden duty to tell everyone that Christ died to save them from damnation – even if the story is from the Old Testament. (See, for instance, Arch Books’ Zerubbabel Rebuilds the Temple.)
This may be an evangelical strategy, but it seems doomed to be an evangelistically ineffective one – families who are not churchgoers are going to be so turned off by these stories that they wash their hands of the Bible entirely and move on to Old Turtle. And so I had been fantasizing about writing my own series of children’s picture books from the Bible – that this might not be another lost opportunity to introduce children to Christianity.
It is a popular argument that the Bible is not particularly kid friendly. The stories we tell to children from the Old Testament are almost comically grim: the expulsion from the Garden, David killing and decapitating Goliath, Jonah swallowed by a giant fish, Ananias and Sapphira struck dead for lying… “Noah’s Ark” is a great example of this – not in reality a story mainly about a bunch of animals living peaceably together on a dear little wooden ship, but unavoidably a story about the death of all humanity except for 8 people (and all of the arguably blameless animals but two (or 7) of each species) at the hands of an angry God.

But even this is nothing compared to the stories we dare not tell children – Tamara raped by her brother, Jezebel torn apart by dogs… so I have begun to agree that perhaps the Bible really is not a book for children. My niece is right to think that the Bible is an essential book, but perhaps wrong to consider that she therefore needs to know all about it right now, as a second-grader. I hope that one day she reads Crime and Punishment, too, but by “one day” I mean “when she is sixteen or older” – and again every five to ten years. I am not in the meantime frantically scouring bookstores for the storybook version.
The Bible is a diverse collection of texts, so naturally there are passages which I would except from my “this is no book for children” dictum – but most of them are not the narratives. For instance, I recently came across a beautiful rendering of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 for children (To Everything There is a Season, by Jude Daly.) Certain Psalms would lend themselves to this sort of treatment, certain sayings of Jesus and passages from Paul and Isaiah.

But on the whole it seems that we are more in need of Tolkien-esque authors – writers who can write stories that illustrate the themes and truths of Christianity in new settings – settings that do not necessarily invoke Christ, but rather evoke Christianity.
What do you think? Are Biblical narratives suitable for children? What are some of your recommendations for books for readers under 10? Not only Bible stories, but also those books which point towards the insights of the Christian faith?