“It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little misery and as much happiness as possible.” ~Samuel Johnson, LLD, MA; English poet, essayist, moralist, literary critic, biographer, editor and lexicographer (1709-1784)
I left clicked the mouse with a flourish propelling the brief email, with its extensive spreadsheet attached, into cyberspace. The creation of this massive grid of numbers, formulas and headings had been a long, arduous process full of fits and starts. An hour of work had been required just to get it to balance, but it was done and on its way. Coffee! I thought. I deserve a cup of coffee and not that charred swill in the community pot. Oh no. I deserved to treat myself. There was a gourmet coffee emporium just around the corner, two and a half blocks from the parish center. Extracting it from my hip pocket I flipped open my wallet like Captain Kirk’s communicator and began rummaging through the cash sleeve…nothing but receipts. Then my eye fell on the gift card carefully filed in the slots with the rest of the ID and credit cards. Awesome!
Rising from my desk I slipped the coffee emporium gift card from my wallet, stuffed it in my breast pocket and headed out the door of my office. Down the hall I went, out the side door, down two steps and onto the sidewalk, a quick right and I was heading south toward the main drag of Santa Monica…Wilshire Boulevard. I negotiated the four-way stop-signed intersection, without becoming an insurance statistic, and continued on my way, already trying to decide whether it would be a small, medium or large.
As I hurried along, engrossed in thought, I passed a homeless person seated against a tree near the sidewalk. He raised his hand half heartedly. “Hey buddy,” he muttered as if he really didn’t expect I would stop, and I didn’t. My momentum carried me by him without as much as a return greeting. Then I heard his voice again. It was a voice so bereft of hope it sounded hollow, vacant…”Have a nice day.” His wish for me, to “have a nice day”, halted me, as surely as if he had caught me by the coat tails. I stood there in a moment of confusion, not knowing whether to retrace my steps or to keep on going. Reluctantly, I finally turned to face the man who, in his need, had interrupted my well laid plans for me. “Hi,” I said without enthusiasm, raising my right palm in a half hearted, sort-of-a wave.
His eyes were red and watery and his face burned from the sun. He squinted when he looked up at me. “What can I do for you?” I asked, without intending to do anything for him. The man simply stared at me. After an awkward moment it finally dawned on me. He was more surprised that I had turned around and come back than I was. After being constantly ignored he was not sure what to do when someone actually stopped and addressed him.
“Is there some reason you stopped me?” I asked, a little more kindly this time. The man struggled to his feet as if it were a sign of respect. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he began, staring at the ground. “Do you think you could spare a couple a bucks so I could get sumthin' to eat?” “I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash with me today,” I responded wondering how many times he had heard that line before. Unfortunately, I didn’t.
Not sure what to do next he began examining his hands. “That’s OK mister” he said finally. “You go on; I know you must be busy.” I saw the opening and took it. “You have a nice day too,” already turning away as I spoke. Headed south and back on task I instinctively patted the pocket where the gift card had been tucked away for safe keeping. Again, I stopped. I didn’t have money, but I had something just as negotiable. Whether it was the thought of walking back with my fresh cup of coffee, right past the guy who I had just told I had no money. Or whether it was the residual guilt I felt from the first time he stopped me. Or whether it was just a moment of clarity when I could hear God’s voice amongst the cacophony which is my life, I will never know…and it didn’t really matter anyway.
When I turned back the man was once again seated against the tree. Still staring at the ground, he seemed worn out, as if our brief encounter had exhausted him. “Excuse me,” I said quietly, afraid I would startle him. He looked up at me with his red, watery eyes, but he didn’t speak. “I was mistaken”, I continued. “I don’t have any cash, but I do have this gift card for that coffee place around the corner…could you use it?” “They got things to eat there like rolls or something?” he asked tentatively. “Absolutely,” I said, smiling for the first time. I offered the card to him and he took it carefully. “Thanks Mister,” he mumbled, “and God bless you.” This came out almost as an afterthought. “I’m sure he will” I mused. And with that I headed back toward the parish center. When I reached the side door, I opened it, then turned and took a last look toward Wilshire. The man had gathered up all his earthly belongings and was hobbling down the street in the direction of the coffee emporium. Smiling to myself, I headed in the door…intent on making myself a fresh pot of coffee.
It is the not elephants that get us, it’s the ants. The big issues in life can usually be faced with come degree of heroism because we recognize them as being important to our continued well being. Where we fail is amongst the little things. We are unable to be brave when confronted by the everyday or as Michael Casey writes, “Far more difficult is unremitting heroism when faced with the humdrum trivialities of everyday existence.” This is where our values trip us up. We think what is important to us is important to all or conversely: what is of little importance to us is likewise inconsequential to others. We can face down our elephants, while our ants are eating us alive.
I humbly admit I am a preacher who needs a lot of practice in this regard.
As stewards this is one of the difficulties we experience, when encountering others in need. We look first at what is important, or of consequence, to us, and then maybe, just maybe, we look at what is important to others. Suppose for a moment three people spent $600.00. One purchased a pair of woman’s leather boots; one purchased a bottle of fine wine and the third a top-of-the-line hand gun. As you read the previous sentence you undoubtedly made judgments about each of the three people and perhaps even considered what you would buy. Like wise, your decision would be based solely upon what is of value to you: perhaps tickets to an event or a new piece of technology.
But what if, instead of $600.00, the amount was only $5.00, like a gift card? If the items listed were items on which people spent $5.00, we would quickly lose interest. $5.00 items are of little consequence to us. Unfortunately, it is those areas where we see things as inconsequential (where the ants reside) that our actions really count.
Case in point, to me the gift card I possessed meant “a cup of coffee” nothing more than a special treat. To the man who received it however, it not only meant the first meal he would eat in nearly two days, but it also meant that he had been treated like a human being, with respect, dignity; that he was more than a faceless lump of flesh leaning against a tree…or worse…nonexistent, a non entity, a blank. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but so is mercy. Viewing the world from this perspective trumps the objection: “There’s nothing I can do.” And we subconsciously complete the sentence “...so I won’t”.
This idea of seeing the value to others, rather than ourselves translates to all parts of our lives. Perhaps, rather than buying a child a car for their 16th birthday, it might be of more value to them to occasionally take our children out, alone, for a hamburger, and spend an hour really listening to what they have to say…to hear what’s important to them and what creates concern in their lives.
Most of us can rise to the occasion when we know something is really serious. Real bravery, however, comes when we are called upon to confront the trivialities in life…those things which don’t seem all that important, but have value beyond measure to others.
Dear God: Help me to be fearless in the face of trivialities.
“We can not do great things. We can only do little things with great love.” ~Mother Teresa of Calcutta (1910-1997)
In Memoriam: Dedicated to the memory of George Newburn ~ a friend to all he met and one of the great advocates of Stewardship. You will be greatly missed.
© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
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