“What do you do when living right don’t work?” That’s what Bishop Jakes said once in a sermon about silent frustration. I felt deserted, cold and alone. Because I could see saying no when you’ve come around one too many times. I could see no when you continue to ask for handouts. But, I didn’t ask for a handout, I asked for a hand up because I had no where else to go. I would have worked off the benevolence or paid it back. I was in a real jam, a real rock in a hard place. I went home that evening after being told no and— I kid you not— cried like a baby. I just broke, and then I got livid. I got pissed off and all I could do to release was scream and holla out loud. And I got to church on Sunday and felt like everyone was looking at me and giggling behind my back. I tried to worship, I tried to give praise…but I felt angry. I felt like, in a way, that I was being crucified. That my self-worth was under attack, that my faith was under attack, that my life had been put on trial and was sentenced to death. It was awful.

by Neil Brown

“We don't do car repair.” That’s what I was told over the summer. And you want to talk about angry. I had to remember, “Be angry, but sin not”. And it was tough. I believe that anger comes from not being acknowledged in some form or other. And maybe that’s why I found myself irritated. But let me take you back into the summer of trials and tribs. Now, I have lived on my own for a few years now. And admittedly, I was “concerned” about whether or not I could do it all on my own. Rent, groceries, car insurance, utilities, I mean handling everything on my own. Colorado is not a cheap state to live in on your own, we very expensive. I guess you've got to pay to live here underneath the mountains and stuff, and I have to say that I have done ok. But 2003, has not been a great year for me.

After the blue “hoopdy” died in June, everything spiraled out of control. So a friend helped me out with car to drive for a week. And then another friend gave me a car that they were not using. Yes, I did say gave (Praise God in the key of A flat…let me have 17 seconds). Now, I drove that SUV for less than a month and it died. The thing vomited its guts out from the inside of the transmission. Well, by this time, I have depleted my “rainy day” stash of cash between 2 cars that have died on me in less than a month! Well the second was towed to a guy that I trust up the street. He’s saved and straight forward with me and I like that trait in people. Understand that I’m hoping that he can help me with good news. Two days later, he has none. There’s nothing that he can do because his garage does not do transmissions. So you already know that this is expensive! And he recommends another place that could help me. Towing is free, diagnostic is free (another shout in half step higher please… 7 seconds).

Now, the problem is that I don’t have enough cash to pay for the entire repair, in fact I got none! So I agonize over doing the one thing that I said I would never do, ask my church for benevolence. I figured that I’m a member in good standing, I have never been this route ever, I’ve sent people who need help to my church to get what they need. So I endured the embarrassing questions about my finances and why I was so messed up.

Now understand, I have helped to hold to the choir together without a musician, was the youth minister without much support, taught Sunday School, helped with the youth bible study, been faithful to my place of worship, ya’ll. Tried to apply all my gifts everywhere I could. It took a few days for someone to reconnect with me and let me know that after a few years here at this church, “We just don’t do car repair”.

Now, are you ready for the icing on the cake, they offered to help me get a bus pass. And that’s when the room went dizzy and I began to feel unstable. My knees were buckling underneath me and real time warped into something very surrealistic. And all I could think of was, “You gotta be kidding me? Nothing at all, not a penny?” How do I get back and forth to work, when my hours vary from week to week? Ain’t got enough credit to obtain more transportation. No where to turn, no one else to call on, no options left.

“What do you do when living right don’t work?” That’s what Bishop Jakes said once in a sermon about silent frustration. I felt deserted, cold and alone. Because I could see saying no when you’ve come around one too many times. I could see no when you continue to ask for handouts. But, I didn’t ask for a handout, I asked for a hand up because I had no where else to go. I would have worked off the benevolence or paid it back. I was in a real jam, a real rock in a hard place. I went home that evening after being told no car repair, after choir rehearsal, and— I kid you not— cried like a baby over a bottle waiting for his mother to hold him and reassure him. I just broke, and then I got livid. I got pissed off and all I could do to release was scream and holla out loud. And even in telling you this, words cannot describe that night. I called a friend who understood because he too was having the summer of hell. But it worked to talked about it with someone because I had to muster up the strength to worship on Sunday.

And I got to church on Sunday and felt like everyone was looking at me and giggling behind my back. Sunday was a raw experience, I tried to worship, I tried to give praise, I tried to extol and come into the service with thanksgiving and enter the courts…but I felt angry. I went down to the altar call to have prayer. I had to get this off me. I didn’t want to be in service angry and defeated. Is this what Jesus felt like going into Passion week? Knowing that He was going to die, feeling betrayed and he still had no malice and no vengeful thoughts? I felt like, in a way, that I was being crucified. That my self-worth was under attack, that my faith was under attack, that my life had been put on trial and was sentenced to death. It was awful.

I’m still healing.

It is a process, and it ain’t easy. God taught what the hymnist wrote, “Only what you do for Christ will last”. And putting my confidence in man, I was let down. No I don’t think that the hurt and the anger was intentional. I don’t think my church was trying to inflict emotional or spiritual harm on me on purpose. I suppose in a lot ways it must have hurt some of them too. Knowing that they would not help. But, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t really make me look at life.

I suppose, on some level, I felt like faithfulness should work a lot like Social Security. Years of devoted service, years of making it on my own, of not asking the church for anything, and never, not even once, receiving money or gifts from the church, should count for something. Should be bank for when it is my turn. When it is me standing in the need. But that is secular thinking. That is how the world works. The world repays kindness for kindness. We are, by contrast, commanded to love one another regardless of circumstance. Regardless of investment.

My pastor once incited a small riot in Bible study by suggesting that, as Christians, we are obligated to help those who need help. Regardless of their history. regardless of their circumstances. The Pastor made the argument that even if we know the seeker is not living up to our standards or God's standards, our obligation is to help if we can. We should not humiliate them or rob them of their dignity by putting them through an intense process. He specifically said, in Bible study, that we should not police what the seeker uses the money for. It is not our duty or our obligation to judge the seeker or examine the person in need. That's God's job, to deal with that person. Our job is to help if we can. I can only imagine he was directing this teaching at our trustees and church managers who make these kinds of decisions.

I think it is easier and more productive to help someone fix their car than risk them losing their job and therefore needing help on a much greater scope should homelessness ensue. I'm wounded and baffled by this process, by whatever logic the decision makers applied, and I question which Bible they're reading and question how this decision lines up with the Pastor's own teaching. Most of all, I'm saddened by the apparent fact that a total stranger could attain help from my church while I could not.

I know now why people do not turn to us for help...us church folk. We are not always a refuge for help, or a safe haven. We are not always easy to talk to. We are not always empathetic. We are not always going to display the fruits of the spirit. I’m still healing. My chest wounds have begun to scab over, slowly but surely. My self-esteem is returning and I suspect that it will be stronger than before.

My faith has been shaken, but it too will return deeper and more meaningful. For God has proven Himself faithful once more in my life. He’s helping me to put the pieces back together again so that I will have a clearer picture of who He is at this stage of my development. I feel better each day, but every once in a while I do like my Granny says, “Honey, I fell of my donkey, but I’ll ride again one day just as soon as my wounds heal and I dust myself off.”

Neil M. Brown
30 November 2003
holla@neilbrown.org
TOP OF PAGE