On Literature, Charity and Giving

A couple of rather strange threads come together for this post.  I have recently started reading The Red Knight, by Miles Cameron, a fantasy novel that I picked up in a charity shop whilst on honeymoon last week.  One of the comments on the back cover describes it as ‘gritty, and at times brutal’, and so I assumed that it was a fantasy in the style of Joe Abercrombie or George RR Martin, both of whose books I very much enjoy.  However, I was mistaken.  In the latter two authors’ books, the majority of people are scheming, violent and treacherous, and violence is very rarely far from any given page.  Good characters exist, but they are very much the exception, and often end up being manipulated or destroyed by their more devious and amoral peers.

By contrast, The Red Knight is mostly filled with good, decent, honest people, and it is the evil, scheming and treacherously violent that are the exception.  Even the wealthy merchant, usually a staple of underhanded nastiness, is an honest and upstanding person.  Not that the characters don’t have flaws, but they are genuinely good people, struggling to get by in what is an undeniably violent world.

If I had to choose which I believe this world to be, I would have to say that I believe it to be the latter rather than the former, and that most people are essentially decent and honest.  Believing the opposite leads to cynicism and misanthropy, and that helps no-one at all, least of all yourself.

So that’s thread one.  Now for part two:

Some time ago, I posted about giving to the homeless.  My conclusion was that while it is indeed best to give to a homeless charity, I would still give directly to the homeless, giving them the benefit of the doubt regarding what they would do with the money.

This week in the Milton Keynes Citizen, the front page story is about Jamie Cooke, a ‘professional’ beggar, pretending to be homeless and using the money he is given to fund a heroin habit.  The article includes a photograph, and I recognised him as someone for whom I’ve bought food in the past, and indeed someone to whom I’ve given money.  He is now under a 5 year antisocial behaviour order preventing him from begging in Milton Keynes.

To quote the article, and in the words of MK Anti Social Behaviour officer PC Dave Goodwin, “Members of the public thought they were helping Jamie by giving cash but in fact they were almost killing him with kindness.  In a funny kind of way, I’m hoping the ASBO will do him a real favour.  I’ve been dealing with Jamie for years, and I know he is obviously a man of intelligence. The fact that he can no longer be a professional beggar could be what he needs to turn his life around.”

So where does this leave me and my high flung idealism?  I really don’t know.  I do worry that this story will harden the hearts of many people, and make them even less inclined to give to the homeless, even through reputable charities.  I certainly don’t feel as though I have been the ‘victim’ of his lying.  If there is a victim at all, I suspect it is him, rather than any of the kind-hearted people who thought they were helping him.  I do believe that eventually he will have to stand before God, and give an account of what he has done, and I genuinely pray that he will be able to repent and accept the forgiveness that is his for the taking, if only he is willing to do so.  When those of us who gave to him stand before the same God, the fact that he was misusing our generosity will not count against us, but the fact that we gave, and gave willingly will count for us, no matter what he then did with it.

I hope that this does indeed help Mr Cooke sort his life out and put it back on some sort of right track.  I hope that he comes to repent of his actions long before he is called to account, for his own sake.  I hope that it won’t stop people from helping those who are so much less fortunate than themselves.

In the meantime, I shall continue to assume that those who ask me for generosity are asking genuinely, and will use that generosity in the best possible way.  This may make me horribly naive, indeed I’m sure it does, and I won’t stop supporting those charities that will make good use of that money, but I refuse to live in a world in which everyone is deceitful, and the good are the rare exceptions.  It may make me blind, it may even (though I hope and pray it does not) make me part of the problem.  It may very well be that life is as it is imagined by Abercrombie and Martin, and that the majority are liars and manipulators.  However, I shall live my life assuming that, like in The Red Knight, the Jamie Cookes are the exception and not the rule, and if I am wrong, then I believe that it will not be held against me, when I am finally called to account.

On Charity (Part 3)

My apologies for the hiatus between posts. I was away for Easter, that special time of year in which Christians are reminded that even (or perhaps especially) when we lose, we win.  Anyway, on with the bloggage!
 

Again, there wasn't supposed to be a third part to this little series of posts, but I saw something the other day that bears thinking about.

As I mentioned above, I was away for Easter, and I got back on Wednesday afternoon, arriving at Milton Keynes Central station.  Outside, as there often is, was a little group of Jehovah's Witnesses with a little stand set up from which they were attempting to disperse their literature to passing travellers.  A little annoying perhaps for those not observant enough to give them a wide berth, but hardly a problem.  In many ways I admire them for their tireless attempts to evangelise, being willing to put themselves in the way of rejection, hostility and abuse in the name of their faith.  'Good for them', you say.

But look again.  Outside the station that afternoon were no less than four homeless men, huddled against the station wall.  One of these was barely ten feet away from where the Witnesses had set themselves up.  He didn't look at them, possibly for fear of being evangelised at.  What struck me though, was that they didn't look at him.  They weren't talking to him, and I don't mean they weren't evangelising, they weren't even talking.  Now, it could be that they had tried, and had received a mouthful of abuse, and left him alone, I don't know.

But what I saw, and what numerous travellers and commuters saw, was a group of supposed Christians trying to spead their faith, trying to persuade others that they had something worth exploring, worth sharing in, and ignoring the very obvious needs of those whom we have been told to clothe and feed and shelter.  I can't speak for the other travellers, but it left me cold.

There are many ways to evangelise, and giving out leaflets is not the most effective.  The best sermons are not printed, they are not even spoken.  They are acted, and lived, and don't even require an audience.  Those Witnesses had the finest opportunity for evangelism that they could have imagined, but instead they stood there and ignored it.

Charity and Giving Part 2: Giving to the Homeless

Nowadays it is easier to be charitable than in previous ages.  Nowadays it’s not too tricky to set up a standing order with one or more noble causes and more or less forget about it, except when you need to feel a bit virtuous, and it can be recalled and held up for yourself as an example of what a Good Person™ you are.  The virtue of charity has never been easier, but I do wonder whether that means it’s less virtuous.  After all, while it’s costing you money, it isn’t costing you more precious commodities such as time, or effort, or really even thought, once the initial setting up is done.  Please don’t think that this is a denunciation of the charitable standing order, far from it; it’s a wonderful thing.  However, I think that possibly there is more to be done.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that one shouldn’t give money to homeless people begging in the street.  “If you really want to help,” we are told, “you should donate regularly to a homeless charity (a charity for the homeless that is, not a charity without a home).  After all, they’ll only spend it on drugs and alcohol (the homeless person, not the charity).  And if you absolutely must do something for them, buy them some food and/or a hot drink.” 

This seems like good advice, and for a long time I followed it.  It seems very sensible and pragmatic and so forth, taking into account human frailties and human faults.  However, that doesn’t stop the twinge of guilt as I walk past beggars, trying to ignore them or shaking my head and muttering “No, sorry,” as I pass.

It has increasingly seemed to me that while it is no doubt excellent advice to give money to homeless charities, since these are largely attempting to deal with the long-term problems, the root-causes and to help people out of the cycle of homelessness and joblessness, it leaves the short-term problems somewhat by the wayside.  Now obviously many also run soup-kitchens and shelters; I’m not for a second claiming that the short-term needs are ignored altogether, but simply by giving to a charity still seems to leave something lacking.  Instead of completely ignoring them, I have in the past tried to do the right thing, and buy them some food, and that has helped a little.

It has been argued to me in the past that it is wrong of us to assume that “they’ll just blow it all on drink”, not that you can really blame them for trying to escape the misery of their lives for a little while, short-term and counter-productive as it is.  It is a cynical and judgemental assumption, and if our positions were reversed, I would resent it.  The very act of buying a homeless person some food, while no doubt appreciated, highlights the fact that you don’t trust them enough to just give them some money, and that in itself must feel like a blow to the gut.  It is very easy to be cynical, to be pessimistic, to assume the worst of other people, and I daresay that it is often (even usually) entirely justified, but I have increasingly come around to the idea that everyone should be given the benefit of the doubt. 

I do not wish to live in a world in which I assume the worst of everyone, or have the worst assumed of me.  I shall be idealistic, and assume the best of everyone, and no doubt I will often waste my concern and my money; it will be put to those lower uses that discourage other people from giving.  That is the choice of the person concerned, and I cannot and shall not be held responsible.  However, sometimes it will be used to buy food, or pay for shelter, and that person’s life will have been improved ever so slightly, for just a short space of time, and if that only happens once in twenty times, I will call it a fair rate of exchange.

So when it comes down to the question of giving money to homeless people, or donating to charities, my answer is: why not both?

Charity and Giving Part 1: Sponsored Events

Those who know me are aware of an apparent glitch in what can most generously be referred to as my mental workings.  It is around the concept of sponsored events.  In school, and through the churches I went to as a child, I ended up doing sponsored walks and sponsored silences and sponsored fasts.  Money was raised and given to charities, and everything was fine and dandy.

Then a few years ago, I had some sort of neurological blue-screen, or possibly an epiphany depending on which way you want to look at it, and realised that the very concept not only doesn’t make sense, but may even be personally harmful from a spiritual point of view.

“Children are starving in Africa”, a hypothetical person says to me (hypothetically).  “I’m going to walk 20 miles to raise money for them.”

“Why?”

“Why?  Because children are starving, and the money will be used to buy food and medical supplies and things.”

“No, I mean why are you walking 20 miles?”

“To raise money.”

“How?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, children are starving in Africa, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“Well that’s terrible, I will most certainly donate money to help.”

“Great!”

“But why are you walking twenty miles?”

“Um… to raise money.”

“So I should pay you to walk 20 miles, and you’ll then give the money to starving children?”

“That’s right.”

“So what is it that I’m paying for?”

“You’re… uh… paying for me to walk 20 miles.  It’ll be really hard and tiring.  I’ll get blisters.”

“So you’re undergoing an arduous experience, in exchange for my giving to charity?”

“Yes!”

“Why don’t I just give the money to the starving children, since they so obviously need it, and save you the bother?”

“Oh, um, well…”

Do you see my problem?  If my hypothetical friend was selling cakes, and donating the money to charity, that would make more sense.  If it was a bob-a-job style arrangement wherein people paid for work, and that money was then passed on, that would be fine.   But the concept of sponsored walks and fasts and silences is a bizarre leap of logic that I have become unable to take.  However, it is so firmly embedded in our culture that to take this position makes me look like a miser at best, and an uncaring, cynical ogre at worst.  Also, it is undeniable that because they are so entrenched, they are very good at raising money for good causes.

It has been argued that it is done to raise awareness.  “Look at that chap!  He’s walking 20 miles.  That’s a curious thing to do.  Ah, turns out that the children in Africa are starving, and that’s why he’s doing it!”  Ok then, but you could just tell me.  Knowing that children are suffering unnecessarily should surely be enough for anyone, without a long walk required.  Perhaps it’s all a diabolical conspiracy by shoemakers?

Beyond their nonsensicality, my main objection to them is more theological; I can’t help but feel that the injunction in Matthew 6 to keep our charitable giving top secret is burst wide open by the naturally and necessarily public nature of a sponsored event.  In most cases, I am sure that self-publicity is no part of a person’s motivation.  Even so, they are seen to be doing good works, and even if it’s no part of their motivation, will end up being publically praised. 

In other cases, I know for a fact that it is almost the entire motivation.  There is such a thing as Event Marketing, in which a company attaches itself symbiotically to a charity or charitable event, and helps raise money.  The purpose of this is solely to generate positive publicity and increase sales.  The company’s employees might well believe in the cause involved, but ultimately the company wouldn’t support it unless they know they’re getting something out of it themselves.  I used to work for a major supermarket chain, who every year would be very publically involved in a high profile national charity event.  They would have posters and advertising splashed up everywhere, and make sure that everybody knew what a wonderful, caring company they were; the kind of company from whom you’d want to buy.

I flatly refused to have anything to do with it, or any of the events that were organised in-store to support it.  Nobody asked me why, but I was ready with logical arguments and biblical quotations in case they did.

It has been pointed out, quite correctly, that surely in this case it is the ends, not the means that matters.  If people can be persuaded to support good causes in exchange for someone sitting in a bath of baked beans for seven hours, then that’s just as good as if they just gave their money anyway, and they are more likely to do so.  Well… yes, but I can’t help but feel that they shouldn’t.  You shouldn’t require another person to undertake some random and unrelated act in order to be chivvied into giving money to a self-evidentially noble cause.  I strongly believe that motivations matter, and will be taken into account, as much as the end result, and I can’t help but feel that my giving an amount of money to feed starving children, because I’ve heard of their plight and want to help is inherently better than being persuaded to give money because someone else is going on a hike.

But I’m not certain, and if it’s true (depressing thought though it is) that people can only be persuaded to give to good causes under these circumstances, then it’s infinitely better than not giving at all.