On gold...

I have tried to write this several times without being too sappy or trite – because sappy and trite are things of which I am fond.  However, it could not be done.  With that warning, here goes.

On Gold…

The first time I met “Mary” she was less than two months away from her death.  She was nearly catatonic, and the only words she would ever speak were “Oh come let us adore him.”  Mary’s skin was paper thin, and I could every blue vein in her tiny body.  She had these huge shiny brown eyes – where – when you looked into them – you felt a sense of kindness you never knew existed.  On her left hand she wore tiny gold band had left a permanent mark on her forth finger.  When I walked in the room to meet Mary, everything felt different.  The sun was setting and as it sank in the sky it came through the windows and lit up Mary’s hair – making the gray strands appear golden.  Mary was – the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  Every patient and nurse at the hospice was drawn to Mary despite the fact that she could barely move or speak. 

I have heard stories about gold since I was a young whippersnapper (yeah, I know I still am).  I remember hearing that gold was the most precious of all metals.  It is so precious it was gifted to Christ, thought of as God poop by the Aztecs, and is traded in tons every day around the world.  For hundreds of years, gold is a thing for which people have sailed across oceans, killed women and children, starved nations and raped the earth.   

Beyond being a tangible metal, gold is also quite symbolic.  Several religions tell of beautiful things called auras.  In simple terms, aura is the energy that a person radiates. Some believe that auras can be so astounding that within moments of meeting a person, you can tell whether his/her energy is bad (and you want to run away) or good (and you feel drawn in).  The most sacred (and rare) of all auras is the golden aura.  The golden aura is symbolic of wisdom, intuition, divine protection – and – enlightenment.

Moving away from metals and auras and back to Mary….  Since Mary could not speak, the first time I met Mary I decided to read to her.  The hospice has only two books on file – both of them by Helen Steiner Rice (cheesy rhyming wizard to the stars).  With one hand I held the book and flipped through the pages and with the other I grasped Mary’s thin flesh.  I read a few terrible rhyme schemes straight out of cruddy Hallmark cards before I landed upon another story about gold.  This one was titled, “The Windows of Gold.”

The story is about a little boy who lived on a mountain.  Shining off in the distance from the boy’s mountain home he sees gold.  The little boy admires the gold so much that he leaves his mountain town to find it.  The little boy walks and walks until he comes to a city.  In the city, he finds that what was shining was not gold – but the reflection of gold from the city in which he came.  The story ends on …. “Is not a far distant place, somewhere.  It's as close to you as a silent prayer.  And your search for God will end and begin.  When you look for Him and find Him within.”

At this point, I am reading to a dying woman - watching the gold radiate from her body.  So yes, I started crying. 

That is the thing about gold.  People spend years searching for it.  They give it to others, they think it is God poop, they kill for it, rape for it, search for it, do everything for it.  However, I saw gold.  I saw the most precious thing in the world.  And I did not find it by murdering women or children or digging through the mines of another country.  I found gold radiating from the aura of a dying woman.  It was so strong that it radiated from every pore, every cell and every gray hair on her withering body.

Mary will forever be one of the most amazing people I have ever met.  She is amazing because she was the first person I met who realized that gold is something that comes from within.  Mary found gold through a life of prayer and devotion, as symbolic in the only words she would speak… “Oh come let us adore him.”  However, that is not to say that there are not millions of ways to find gold within.  Prayer, meditation, silence, mounting climbing, baking, sewing, knitting, hiking, anything that involves self reflection.  Gold is there.  It is in all of us – just waiting for that moment when we realize it has been in us all along.

On poor Christian leaders…

It has happened again.  I was going through some survey feedback and someone said, “You are too expensive for a Christian business.”

Really?  What is that suppose to mean?

By saying anything is too expensive for being a Christian business, you are implying that “Christian” anything should be cheaper, more affordable or less expensive.

But why?  Why do people have this expectation that Christian stuff should be cheaper?

I have also heard a lot of people I know complain about tithing.

“They just EXPECT me to give them MY money?  It is my money, and they are a church.”

What is that suppose to mean?  Name me ONE other service in your life where you can walk in, expect the service people to me ALL of your needs and you pay nothing?  Oh yeah, there are none, because they do not exist.  How much you feel you need to tithe is between you and God.  But it is hard for me to imagine that you go to church every week and God says, “Just leave, give them nothing, that’s totally awesome.”

Three things:

Thing one:

Churches are a business.  Well, not exactly.  But keeping up a church involves many of the same things need to keep a business up.  Many church services exist in buildings that must be maintained.  Maintaining a building involves: rent fees, maintenance fees, upkeep, electricity bills, water bills, etc.  Buildings are managed by people: secretaries, maintenance, treasurers, etc.  Church services – be they Sunday service or extra-curricular – are run by people.  People – need – money – to live.  People want so badly to believe that churches are run on some type of magic where they can survive simply off of wishful thinking.  But, well, that just isn’t true.  Churches – need – money – to exist.

Thing two:

At the end of the day, whether you like it or not, we live in a capitalist economy.  And even in a socialist economy, things still get paid for via taxes.  So if you want a good or service, you have to pay for it.  I get that things are tight and money as tight and – let’s be honest – you are really cheap.  How do I know you are cheap?  I know you are cheap because I work in market research, where the bottom line is the only thing that matters.  You, my dear consumer, are cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap.  You want everything for the cost of nothing – including any “Christian” service.

Thing three:

I am quite sick of the expectation that those who are Christian servants should be very poor and suck it up.  I have heard people use the “they are servants of Christ” to justify paying people WAY less than they deserve.  Christian professors get paid way less because they are “doing God’s work.”  Missionaries, pastors, priests, nuns… they are expected to live, eat, and take care of their families – all while serving dozens of people – making below poverty line wages.

“Well, God calls his servants to give up earthly goods and just be poor.”  If you think about it, we are all called to do God’s work and to serve God’s people.  So if you give me that thinking, then it is fair for me to expect that you should live sparsely as well.

The thing is, excluding those rare tv pastors who rake in money, I don’t know a single pastor or pastor’s family who lives above the median income.  Every single pastor I know – by government definition – is poor.  Which means, my dear church-goers, you are living every day of your life okay with that fact that the person you want to serve you at your wedding, your funerals, your family’s funeral, and basically – every beck and call moment of you life – sometimes doesn’t have enough money to: pay rent, buy groceries or even buy clothing.  

That, to me, is wrong.  The fact that people expect someone to be at their beck and call, but then give them nothing for it – is not right.

Pastors and missionaries don’t need to be millionaires, but neither do you!  They do, however, deserved to have enough money to take care of their needs.

On asking for help.

I suck at asking for help.  Just plain and simple.  I. SUCK. AT. ASKING. FOR. HELP.

Examples?

EXAMPLE 1:

At one point a few years ago I was set to move from an apartment to a house.  One of my friends asked me about the move, and our conversation went something like….

FRIEND: When are you moving?

ME: I don’t know, in a few weeks.

FRIEND: When were you going to tell me?

ME: I don’t know.  Well, I guess you know right now.

FRIEND: Who was going to help you move?

ME: I was going to help myself, I guess?

FRIEND: How were you going to move your couch?

ME: I don’t know – very carefully I guess.

FRIEND: So are you saying you weren’t going to tell me when you were moving and you weren’t going to ask me for help?

ME:  Um, no? Is that bad?

I wasn’t trying to be rude.  I wasn’t trying to leave someone out of my life.  It just never struck me that I could/should: a) tell someone when I was moving, b) ask someone for help and that c) people are willing to help me.  In the end, I got help moving and everything settled in safe and sound.

EXAMPLE 2:

Two years ago I was getting tested for epilepsy after I had passed out from having my blood drawn and had a seizure.  The test uses an electroencephalogram (EEG), which my best friend Mandy uses in her research on language acquisition.  I remembered her using an EEG and called to tell her I was going to get one, but did not think to tell her the why.  The conversation went something like….

ME:  Hey, don’t you use an EEG in your research?

MANDY: OKAY – CAN’T QUITE REMEMBER WHAT SHE SAID HERE, BUT SHE DESCRIBED HOW THE EEG WORKS, HOW SHE USES IT, IT WAS QUITE FASCINATING

ME:  Cool!

MANDY:  Why do you ask?

ME:  Oh, because I am going to get one.

MANDY:  Wait, why? What?

ME: Yeah, I am going to get one.

MANDY: Why?

ME:  Oh, yeah.  I passed out after having my blood drawn.  And then I guess I had a seizure.  They are worried I could be epileptic or something.

MANDY:  What? You are getting tested for epilepsy and you are just telling me now?

ME:  Um, yeah.  I guess.

MANDY:  Steph, that is a really big deal.  Who else did you tell?

ME: I think I told my mom.

MANDY: So, you are getting tested for epilepsy and you told your mom and me.  Don’t you think you should be telling people or something?

ME: Um, I guess.  I am telling you now.

MANDY:  Seriously?

I wasn’t trying to be difficult.  I simply worry I am: 1) oversharing, 2) complaining or 3) making people worry unnecessarily.  Don’t worry, I don’t have epilepsy.  My body just freaks out when it knows its beautiful life force is being drained from my precious body….

So why do I suck at asking for help?

Well, I am just going to go ahead and blame society.  Okay, there is more to it then that.  However, I think the American culture we tend to value independence.  We all drive to work, we like to live alone in apartments, we get groceries alone, shop alone – we bowl alone.  Although being independent is great, there are some serious not-so-awesome parts.  

Like, how on earth was a 150 pound woman going to move a 400 pound couch by herself?  She wasn’t.  It would have been physically impossible. 

And what would happen if I was epileptic?  How could I drive to work alone? And what would happen if I had a seizure and needed help?  I would need a ride to work. I would need someone to be at home if I had a seizure.

I think that perhaps the greatest tragedy our time is that we have created a culture where we tell people they should not ask for help, that if they do ask they are weak, and that we should not help people because we are enabling them.  Do some people abuse the system and suck our resources?  Yes, they do.  However, there are also millions of people that need help and – like me – are too terrified to ask for it.

The thing is, it doesn’t matter who asks for help or why.  At the end of the day, every one of us is a child of God.  God did not create billions of humans so we could fight it out alone and do everything by ourselves.  We were created to help each other, and to serve each other.

This week I went to the Emergency Room.  I was having severe stomach pain.  In rare form – I called someone to ask for their help – my boyfriend.  He was visiting his parents an hour away.  However, I called – and he came.  I had just had my blood drawn – and yes – I had a seizure… and he was there.  If God is within all of us, then that means that when you reach out for help from another person you are really asking for God.  As I woke up from passing out, I called out for God.  And God came.  He didn’t come in the form of bright lights or singing angels.  He came in the form of a man who loves me very much and cares for me very deeply.  The next day as I worked on feeling better, I asked for help from God again.  And he surrounded me with my boyfriend’s family.  When I was not feeling great, they helped – they were there – they showed me the love of God.

So.  Yes. I suck at asking for help.  But as I evolve in life, I have gotten so much better.  In less than a year I have gone from not telling anyone about getting tested for epilepsy – to calling and asking for help when I need it.  And you know what?  It is awesome.  I deserve help.  I deserve love.  And so does every other person in the world.