From the Salmon

I realize that writing this post means that my “Recent Post” list will now ask “What Good Am I?” and subsequently answer “I’m a Winner!” I’m just gonna have to chalk that one up to irony and forge ahead.

When I began this site a week or so ago, I mentioned that I was encouraged to do so by a series of thought-provoking music posts I had read earlier that day. This post will complete the trilogy of responses to those catalysts.

I’ve recently begun to read a site called ”A New Life Emerging,” which is written by a fellow Bay Area denizen named Rick. In the short time I’ve followed Rick’s writings, I have been regularly reminded of just how challenging Jesus’ gospel really is.

A week or so ago, Rick put up a post called ”Charity & Justice: What Good Am I?” that really hit me. He starts off with a powerful river metaphor for the difference between charity and justice. And I’m a sucker for powerful river metaphors. But the post really got me because he included the lyrics to my favorite song from my favorite Bob Dylan album.

“What Good Am I?” from Bob Dylan’s Oh Mercy

What good am I if I’m like all the rest,
If I just turned away, when I see how you’re dressed,
If I shut myself off so I can’t hear you cry,
What good am I?

What good am I if I know and don’t do,
If I see and don’t say, if I look right through you,
If I turn a deaf ear to the thunderin’ sky,
What good am I?

What good am I while you softly weep
And I hear in my head what you say in your sleep,
And I freeze in the moment like the rest who don’t try,
What good am I?

What good am I then to others and me
If I’ve had every chance and yet still fail to see
If my hands tied must I not wonder within
Who tied them and why and where must I have been

What good am I if I say foolish things
And I laugh in the face of what sorrow brings
And I just turn my back while you silently die,
What good am I?

I’ve been working on a mix lately for some friends, and I’ve been listening to this album a lot. And I can’t listen to this song without thinking of a decision I face every day.

I work in downtown Berkeley. And while I have no statistical evidence for this claim, I think that Berkeley must rank with San Francisco as having one of the largest homeless populations in the country, at least on a per capita basis. I would imagine that the combination of a temperate winter climate and a relatively lenient civic policy towards the homeless has drawn a fairly significant number to our streets.

Which brings us to my daily decision. I probably pass somewhere between 3 to 8 homeless people every day. Now, I’ve lived in large cities for a decade or so. And you’d think that by now I’d have a pretty settled idea of how I should react when I’m asked for change. But truth be told, I don’t.

My usual response is to ignore the request and walk right past.

What good am I if I know and don’t do,
If I see and don’t say, if I look right through you?

Here’s the thing.... I’m a Christian, I’m more or less politically liberal, and I generally think of myself as a fairly compassionate person. My wife and I give money to local groups that minister to the homeless and we volunteer once or twice a month at a local soup kitchen. And yet I walk right on by. Worse, I make all sorts of excuses for the choice I make every day. Not that they’re good excuses. I have this vague notion that my change really won’t make that much of a difference, that it will go to support heaven knows what destructive habit they might have, that it will just be “wasted,” that they’re lying to me when they say they need money for bus fare so that they can make it to their job interview, that I’m encouraging behavior that is socially annoying and not “productive” or “independent,” and on and on.... Some of these are blatant stereotypes; some of these may have some semblance of truth. I’m not sure that it matters.

What good am I if I say foolish things
And I laugh in the face of what sorrow brings?

Today, for example, I passed only three. There was the elderly black man shaking a dixie cup across from the place where I get coffee. There was the bedraggled blonde gentleman in fatigues who was sitting in a vacant doorway outside the chinese restaurant where I got lunch. And there was the blind man who is on post every day a few blocks from where I work. I walked past them all. I did my best to avoid eye contact. I even took comfort in the fact that I had my iPod on, so I couldn’t hear them.

If I shut myself off so I can’t hear you cry,
What good am I?

There’s a passage in Matthew 25 that is probably familiar to many of you, whether you’re a Christian or not. Jesus more or less says that how we treat the least among us is proxy for how we treat Him. He says,

For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me. (Matthew 25:42-43, NIV)

It’s passages like this that have deeply influenced my personal politics. Chances are, if you come back to this site regularly over the course of the next few weeks, you’ll find me ranting about our government or about particular politicians or parties for their policies regarding the poor. But am I really any better? Have these passages influenced my life? If I knowingly pass by someone who needs a meal while listening to Bob Dylan through my white iPod headphones, am I pretty much giving Jesus the finger?

What good am I?

Honestly, I’d love to hear from any of you who live in cities and face this decision on a regular basis. I’d love to hear what you do and why. Since I’ve only had this shingle up for a week or so, I have no illusions that there are many people reading this, so even if you stumble across this post weeks or months from now, I’d still love to hear what you have to say.