Probably the biggest question I struggle with is how to really love my neighbor as myself. And particularly how to do so in a world with so much inequality. I'm not sure how to find a balance between helping people and living my own life, nor am I sure that “my own life” is a valid concept for me as a Christian. It seems that any time or money I spend for my own enjoyment could instead be used to feed the hungry, visit the sick, buy mosquito nets, send food where it's needed, etc. But the fact is that I don't use all my resources this way. I do in fact spend time doing things that I enjoy, and I do spend money on things that I want as well. I'm going to explore some perspectives on this.
In college, I learned about the philosopher Peter Singer. He's a utilitarian – greatest good for the greatest number – and he does advocate drastically changing the way many of us live. He'd probably be one to say that there's no justification for going to see a movie when that money could instead be used to buy mosquito nets to keep people in poor tropical countries from getting malaria. And I can definitely see that point. If you put it squarely in the choice of watch a movie or save someone's life, saving a life obviously seems more valuable. And yet I still sometimes decide to buy a movie ticket.
I think part of what makes this possible is basic human psychology. The movie theater is right down the street; someone at risk of malaria is hundreds of miles away. It's pretty easy to just not think about it. And even closer to home, there's physical separation between the rich and the poor. Not entirely – my church is downtown and next to a homeless shelter – but to a large degree. I see people in need mostly on the side of the road wearing orange vests, and sometimes I give them a few dollars, and more often I don't. But I don't even think about trying to help really change their situation. Partly because I don't know how, partly because I'm psychologically uncomfortable – I don't know how to act or speak appropriately, and also partly because I don't want the complication in my life. I don't want the complication and responsibility of a relationship with someone whose life is so different from mine, who might have every reason to condemn me, and who I might not be able to separate from. I'm not at all proud of this, but it's the truth. This separation seems to be culturally reinforced. Everyone kind of knows that you don't interact with “those people.” You might give a dollar or two if you're feeling generous, though conventional wisdom is that it'll just go for substance abuse of one kind or another. But you don't have long conversations, you don't ask how this happened to them, and you certainly don't offer them a ride. You might point them in the direction of the homeless shelter, but that's about it. And, God have mercy on me, I'm more comfortable that way too. I'm bad at making small talk even with people I have a fair amount in common with. Here, I'm totally out of my depth. And yet there's a sense that I ought to do something. Is this person my brother or not?
Back to the uses of money and time, there are other social influences as well. Not just peer pressure or the desire for status symbols, but also real needs of family and friends. Those relationships also matter, and I need to spend time with family and friends in order to maintain those relationships. It's also pleasant for me to do so; typically you become friends with people because you like them. “Those whose lives are closely linked with ours” would be hurt if I stopped spending time with them, and even spending some of that time doing service work together would only go so far. The closest relationships require time that isn't devoted to anything else; otherwise a person can reasonably ask “is it actually me you care about?”
Looking at what the Gospels say about how Jesus lived is ambiguous. I don't remember any times when someone asked for his help and didn't receive it. (There was the Samaritan woman, but she did get help eventually...) But he also did seem to spend some time with people he was close to – Mary was at the wedding in Cana, and it seems like he spent time with his disciples separate from everyone else. Though again, he seemed to accept the invitation of anyone who wanted to have him over for a meal or get to know him better. But there's no real evidence of him being concerned with what he wanted for himself. The only record I'm aware of where his personal desires came into play was in the Garden of Gethsemane, where it seems like he really didn't want to be crucified. Anything he did could easily have been for the purpose of meeting those people's needs – for healing, for hope, for friendship. We know he loved; it's less clear whether he liked.
But then I wonder how that would have worked out – can humans function without close relationships? And it's one thing to love your neighbor in the sense of seeing that their physical needs are met. It's another to develop a particular love for an individual – and I don't just mean romantically, I'm including friendship here too. I don't know how much control we have over whether we like any given person, but it does seem that everyone needs to be liked, by someone even if not by everyone. And those kind of relationships take time – it's impossible to have a close personal relationship with everyone. But it can also hurt when someone feels that they're not personally cared for, that even though their needs are being met, there's no warmth or well-wishing, just a stern sense of duty. And so I guess there is a middle ground – one can have a caring, personal manner with others even when one isn't cultivating a closer friendship, and maybe we do have some control over that, although innate personalities surely come into it as well. And how do you find the balance when maintaining those important close relationships takes time and resources that could be used towards less personal but more life-and-death kinds of assistance? It's all very jumbled.
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