“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. … It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.”
— C.S. Lewis
A couple months ago, I mentioned to a long-time friend, Tyler from back home, that I had gone on a weekend-long mission trip to San Felipe, Mexico, with a group from Pepperdine during my spring break. We built a small home out of cinder block for a family there. Tyler was really excited because within the past couple years, he had gone to the exact same location and worked with the same church we had. He wanted to figure out if we had helped any of the people that he had come to know when he was there. He asked if I had met this name, or that name or maybe this other name. I didn’t recognize any of the names. Unfortunately, it wasn’t necessarily because my group worked with different people than he had. They could have been the same, they could have been different — I simply had no idea. It took Tyler’s questioning to make me realize that while I had driven all the way down to a town in Mexico, paid money to get there and to buy materials and labored for days on a house, I hadn’t even given much thought into who I was helping.
It’s not that I should have pre-screened the recipients of the home to ensure that they were worthy of my help. That goes nearly without question, especially given that they had been selected in the context of a long-term relationship between the University Church and the church in San Felipe. I would never doubt that they were a good family in need of a good home, and I am more than glad to help whomever it is. But there’s something fake about sacrificing time and resources for someone, especially if you are doing it in person, without taking an interest in their humanity. It’s coldly ideological. Why didn’t you just send money instead? It will probably be more useful and efficient for the cause than trucking an indifferent person all the way to the site.
This past weekend, my participation in Step Forward Day was marked by a different attitude. When my group arrived at Westside Food Bank in east Santa Monica, a woman welcomed us and assigned us a few manageable tasks as we expected she would. We divided the various projects among us and got down to work fairly quickly. However, one of the most memorable moments of the morning was when I started talking to the woman. I quickly learned that she was not a short-term employee or volunteer at the food bank. Rather, she had been working there for the past 12 years. Twelve years! That represents a rare degree of commitment, and I doubt she often gets recognition for it. I am sure she appreciated the help we gave her, but honestly, I’m sure she would have gotten the work done somehow. She usually does it without us, after all. In the midst of the hours I spent there, I am convinced that the only truly essential contribution I made was in those moments when I stopped to acknowledge her humanity and her unique story.
If you agree that the general concept of service is to help people, then relating to these people and communicating with them is key for both practical and philosophical reasons. For one, you are bound to better understand how you can materially help them if you seek to understand their situation better. But on a deeper level, seeking to relate to them is the most meaningful action you can include in your service. No matter how much we try to eliminate material need and inequality from the world, it will still exist. There is only one type of injustice that we are totally capable of banishing, and that is the injustice of the belief that a person’s worth or importance can be determined by their life circumstances. Seek to understand and appreciate someone, and you weaken the damage that this wrong belief could to do them. Whatever service you do can be mightily empowered by a shot of cost-free humility. Whatever you do, make a genuine connection.
