Peanut Gallery: If you put me in charge of your church’s local benevolence budget for 2013, I’d finish the year with a surlpus. That’s how I know I’ve got “Compassion Fatigue Syndrome” (CFS)… a term I just made up.
For over 35 years, I pastored seven churches in various parts of the country… and the story was pretty much the same. Vagrants showed up on the church’s doorstep (frequently on Sunday am) with a well rehearsed story and their hands out. By my estimate, less than 10% were people legitimately needing help. The rest were semi-professional free-loaders. It got so bad that, when I thought I was being conned, I cut them off and said: “Don’t tell me your story. Just tell me what you want.” I hate being lied to.
In most of the communities I served, the churches worked together to coordinate their efforts and we had a list of specific goods and services that we could offer. On occasion, when we ran into folks with legitimate needs, one of our elders or deacons would work with them and monitor their progress… our goal was restoration and their eventual return to productive society. And we did have some real success stories… but, mostly, I thought we were being used.
Unfortunately, my attitude concerning America’s poor hasn’t changed much since retirement – hence, my confession: “I’ve got Compassion Fatigue Syndrome (CFS).” I want to be sensitive and responsive to the needs of the poor, but I don’t want to support other people’s bad behavior and perpetuate their irresponsibility – that would make me their enabler. And I’m not going there.
World-wide impoverishment is another story. Since retirement, I’ve been doing some travelling. You don’t have to go very far outside of America to witness real poverty… people who have absolutely nothing through no fault of their own. They are locked into a particular strata of their society for life… with no possibility of upward mobilty. Fresh water and mosquito nets are game changers… and two goats or a few chickens become a cottage industry. That’s why I can’t get excited about America’s able-bodied “poor” with flat screen TVs, cell phones, two cars, free lunches… free everything.
So… my personal approach to giving to the poor has been through donations to Samaritan’s Purse. They have a long history of financial integrity and I agree with their purposes and goals. They deal with genuinely needy people here and around the world all year long… and they do it through local churches in the name of Jesus. Click here for examples of what they do.
I wouldn’t give a dime to my denomination’s benevolence efforts because I don’t trust them… my giving would end up funding abortions, supporting gay pride and handing out condoms to high school students. Most public charities like United Way and the Red Cross are no better… it doesn’t take much digging to find Planned Parenthood among the agencies they support.
Nevertheless, I am not blind… I do live in coastal South Carolina not very far from historic pockets of the rural poor. And I don’t know what to do about it… how to change their lives for the good. I do know that pouring more money into existing welfare programs and electing the same politicians won’t help them. Nothing has changed for a couple of generations, so why would it now?
If doing the same thing we’ve been doing is not the answer, what is?
Public policy is not my forte, that’s why this email from the Heritage folks attracted my attention. Maybe some conservative adults can come up with some constructive ideas.
Our objective is to help more Americans escape poverty by promoting work, marriage, civil society, and welfare-spending restraints.
Sounds good, something’s got to give… but it won’t be me unless things change radically.
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Morning Bell: Are We Helping Poor Americans?
Jennifer Marshall
December 31, 2012 at 8:38 am
At the end of the year, many people take time to make charitable donations. But caring for those in need is a year-round responsibility—and when it comes to public policy, conservatives have an important opportunity to articulate an effective response to poverty and social breakdown in America.
A half-century into the War on Poverty, liberals can hardly declare victory.
Continue reading “Hello: “My name is Art and I’ve got Compassion Fatigue Syndrome (CFS)””
