This weekend I taught at Write Canada, the Canadian Christian writers' conference. I love going there and just networking with people, and it's a great getaway. But I don't always go to the sessions; I usually just hang out in the lounge and talk.
Anyway, on Friday night I decided to go, and I'm so glad I did, because Tim Huff, a man who works closely with the homeless and who has just written some award winning books, was speaking.
I have to admit to having my guard up a little bit, because I often don't agree with "poverty advocates". They say we need more homeless shelters, more money spent on single mothers, and in general just more money for everything. But the facts don't bear this out, because in the places where they have spent more money, homelessness has increased (just look at San Francisco). Nevertheless, most poverty advocates do this.
But Tim didn't. He said something absolutely brilliant.
You know how sometimes there's something you instinctively know, but have never been able to put into words? That's what he did. And here is what he said:
The problem of poverty in North America is not one of poverty of resources. It is one of poverty of relationships. We have plenty of money and plenty of stuff. What we don't have is community. And he pointed at a man in the audience, whom he knows well, and he said, "If tomorrow Larry were to lose his company, and lose his store, and the bank foreclosed on his house, Larry would not be homeless. I would not let Larry be homeless. I would say to Larry, "come and stay at my house. I won't have you living out on the street." And there are dozens of others who would say the same thing, because Larry has supportive friends and family.
But some people don't have that. And so they end up on the street, or hopeless and on welfare and really struggling.
But the government doesn't understand that. And he said, "we will never cure poverty by trying to address poverty of resources. We need a mindshift where we look at poverty of relationships."
He's so right. I know a 20-year-old young woman who got pregnant this year (sort of on purpose, if you know what I mean). She is living with her parents, who are going to care for the baby while she takes a two year degree program at a college so she'll be able to get a decent job.
But take a 20-year-old woman who is just out of foster care, or whose parents are both on their third live-in relationship this year, and she's not going to have that kind of support. She'll be on welfare with no job training and little chance for anything else in her life.
And it struck me: this is why I do what I do. My girls and I have done some soul searching lately, because there are some in our church who are very good at reaching out to the marginal, and seeing new people become Christians (though whethre they grow in their faith is another story). We are more on the other side: trying to keep those who are Christians close to God and close to their families. I've dedicated pretty much all of my ministry to marriage; to trying to keep families together.
And I think that's an important piece of the puzzle, because it's attacking the problem of poverty of relationship. We need close families to provide community, so that people do have a social safety net. The government can never provide that adequately, because the government can't make up for family. And in a safe family you learn how to have close relationships, and how to serve, and how to grow. And you're not nearly as hurt in your soul as those who grow up in very dysfunctional homes.
We have a major problem with poverty of relationship. I have close friends who live next to an elderly woman with a quasi-abusive son. She has no other friends (she's an immigrant and doesn't speak English well). She's a widow. She really has no idea how banks, or the government, or anything work. And she was being really taken advantage of. They've stepped in and stopped her son from taking all her money, and started getting her involved in their social network. Suddenly she has people to talk to and she has a church to go to again. I just can't imagine that woman, living all by herself, in that house, with no one noticing or caring.
That didn't use to happen because people felt a responsibility to their neighbours. I think we need that responsibility again. We need to feel like we are a community, because that's how we grow and share. And so I'm wondering: how can we start to solve this problem of poverty of relationship? Have you ever done anything on your street, or in your community, where you've reached out to someone who really was alone? Let me know in the comments, and let's talk!
I received a book to review on this blog a few months ago that I was actually pretty excited about. It was talking about entertaining for people who didn't really like to entertain or didn't feel like they knew how. And I thought, that's for me! I'm not a detail person. I find it hard to put on a party, because when people come I get so caught up in talking to them I forget about little things like oven timers and when food has to be turned on.
So I thought: this can help organize me!
Instead it just depressed me. It was all about how to make your home beautiful, and how to do gorgeous place settings, and how to make canapes. I'm never going to make canapes.
Now maybe you have the gift of entertaining, and you find this sort of thing fun. But what I find fun is having a pile of people over, serving something easy like chicken fajitas with lots of fixings, and then eating wherever you can find a chair while you talk nonstop, and then playing board games afterwards while the kids scatter.
In fact, after reading this book, I began to think that maybe I'd never actually thrown a dinner party in my life! I've had tons of people over for dinner, but I've never thrown a dinner party! I've only ever "had people over". I had thought I had thrown dinner parties, but my table never looked anything like the tables in that book.
Please understand; I am not saying there's anything wrong with that kind of entertaining. But I just don't know if I have the time to put in that kind of work in order to have people over. The author of this book gets her kids involved, and it's a family affair, and that's wonderful. But I'm not that kind of person. I'm a lot more laid back. I like a lot of laughter, not quiet music playing in the background. I like big debates, not tame conversation. So I'm not a dinner party gal.
I worry that if we expect that anytime we have people over for dinner it has to be a big production, that we will stop inviting people over. One of the best things you can do to encourage friendships for your children (and yourself) is to have people over. Invite other families over. Talk. Instead of watching TV tonight, talk to friends! Share food. Have people bring something and contribute. Let's function more like a community.
But will we do that if we think that we must have elaborate place settings for people? Or we must plan a menu to reflect the seasons, or the fall colours, or the summer bounty? What if I just want to clear out my freezer?
I'm not saying I don't put any effort in; I guess it's just that I see a difference between hospitality and entertaining. Hospitality says, "come and share my life". Entertaining says, "I will do something out of the ordinary and extraordinary for you". Hospitality says, "I'm not really making extra effort; I just value you and so I want to include you in what we're doing because you make it better by being here." Entertaining says, "I went out of my way for you."
One isn't wrong and one right, it's just a different philosophy. I would rather just share my life, and so I don't do the whole "posh" thing. But some people are very good at posh, and it comes naturally. So by all means, go ahead!
But let's not think that in order to have people over we have to be posh. No, you don't. Do you know how rare a home cooked meal is today, even if it's just spaghetti? Anything you do is probably impressive. So don't be afraid to share, even the little you do have. Remember the five small barley loaves and two small fish? They weren't much, but they fed a ton of people and everyone had a big party. You can take the little you have and give people a memory.
I figure that what people remember is the feeling of community and the interaction. Others who focus more on entertaining may feel they remember the beauty, and the grace, and the effort. Both are fine. But that beauty and grace and effort, while lovely, is not necessary. Don't let fears that you can't entertain stop you from having people in. Just share who you are, and laugh, and talk, and play, and have fun, and people will remember, even if it's not a traditional dinner party. And if we all got back to inviting people in once a week, rather than hibernating in our own homes watching TV, we'd be a much healthier society.
Do you have people over? What's your favourite thing to make? How do you make it fun? Let me know!
About Me: I'm a Christian author of a bunch of books, and a frequent speaker to women's groups and marriage conferences. Best of all, I love homeschooling my daughters, Rebecca and Katie. And I love to knit. Preferably simultaneously.
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