The Latest

I'd like to leave my earlier post, with all the nice pictures, at the top of the heap for longer. You'll just have to scroll down for it, I guess, because ish just keeps on happening.

Patrick remarks that in a smaller community, the whole community would share the job of taking in a family that had fallen on some hard times. But we live in an atomized society without much sense of community, where the assumption is pretty much that institutions bear the responsibility for the welfare of those in need.

If we were to attempt to take in Darrell and Matthew on our own, we would not find the support we would in a small town; we would be on our own. So for our own sake, we have to get them to take advantage of the services being provided by churches, the government, etc.; we can provide some assistance in the interim, but in the long term, we cannot assume that responsibility.

I think this is a very nice way to ease my conscience. But it still leaves a lot of unanswered questions. For example: today, Patrick and I went to Target and spent over a hundred dollars on odds and ends: an electronic toothbrush that his dentist recommended (he has sensitive gums and other dental issues), slippers because the hardwood floors are hurting his feet, granola bars on sale, toothpaste, socks. Nothing extravagant. But also nothing that was absolutely necessary. We spent that money without thinking too much of it--but what would it take for us to be willing to hand that money over to someone more needy?

How much do you have to do before you've fulfilled your moral obligation? The way I see it, everyone has to figure out her own answer to this question, and I have yet to do so. At this point, I don't think I would alter my lifestyle; I wouldn't move to a smaller, cheaper apartment to be able to donate more money, for example, nor would I accept having people move in with me. But I do have a lot of disposable income. What percentage of that ought I be willing to part with rather than save?

And then the real question seems to be about so much more than money, which in the end is an easy sacrifice. Easier than time, easier than privacy, easier than a million other things which may or may not add up to make more of a difference. (Is it naive of me, does it reveal my class privilege that I can be equivocal about this? Is money really it, if that's what you don't have?) But so when do you say, "Look, I can't drive you there," or "No, I'm sorry, but you can't stay." When have you made enough of a sacrifice to feel unburdened? Does it make a difference who the other party is? Should it make a difference?

Patrick contributes a comment, something about rational views and religious views, the rational values being equality and justice and the religious ones being love, loving others above oneself. I can't really see where either of these align with what I am actually willing to do enough to suggest some kind of brightline standard.

Matthew was ringing our bell at a little past midnight last night. We were asleep, and unfamiliar with the bell's sound besides (I guess it works now!), so it took us a while to figure out what was going on. His granddad hadn't come back from the church meeting he went to, and Matthew was locked out and needed a place to sleep.

Before he left this morning (we gave him a ride back to 66th on our way to Target), he folded the sheets we'd put on the futon for him. That was nice.