Privilege can be a terrible burden. I don’t know that I
really understood this before the first day we were in the village in El
Salvador. Some clothing had been sent with our mission team to share with the
children of the community. Although our team had not intended to be involved
with the distribution of the clothing, we ended up doing so.
I was tasked with the responsibility of giving shirts to
the boys. I could not bear just to hand out shirts with the attitude of “You
are needy. I have something to help you. Take what I offer, whether you want it
or not.” So as each boy came up to receive a shirt, I first tried to find what
would fit, then I asked if he liked it. Sometimes I would go through several
shirts before finding one that suited, and sometimes I was unable to find one
that made someone happy. As the stack of shirts decreased, the whole project
grew more uncomfortable. I realized that the last children would not get to
choose and that we might even run out before all the boys received a shirt.
It was an awful feeling. I felt acutely the burden of
privilege. I feared that we had sacrificed relationship with these children for
the sake of a material item. Instead of a relationship of mutual love and
generosity, we were thrust into one of wealthy vs. needy.
Several years ago, on an earlier mission trip to the
Dominican Republic, we were playing with children in the batays, which are
migrant camps for the Haitians who come to the Dominican Republic to harvest
sugar cane. Many of the children were wearing sweaters, long-sleeved winter sweaters.
I asked the missionary who lived there why these children were wearing sweaters
in such a hot climate. She responded that when clothing is collected in the
States, people put in all kinds of clothes. It is boxed up and shipped to the
Dominican Republic and distributed to the missionaries. The children basically
get whatever comes out of the mission box, even if it’s the wrong kind of
clothing for the climate. Hearing that, I was angry and ashamed.
Thoughtless giving, giving our “trash,” giving that
destroys relationships, is not generosity. It’s insulting, heartless and
demeaning. Instead of building another up, it belittles them. And as the giver,
such giving hardens our hearts, separates us from each other, and fosters
arrogance.
Recalling the act of clothing distribution to the
children in the village in El Salvador is still painful, even now, three weeks
afterward. As I hold that pain, I pray that it opens my heart to just how much
privilege inhibits meaningful relationship with others. May I instead live in
this way:
Don’t do anything
for selfish purposes but with humility think of others as better than
yourselves. Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out
for what is better for others.
(Philippians 2:3-4)
I am grateful we had the rest of the week to build genuine relationships
with the children. Their love, joy and generosity with each other and with us
embodied the scripture above. I pray I may follow their example in my
relationships with others.