Ordinary Faithfulness

Humans of New York is one of my pleasure reading stops. As a general rule, it's amazing picture and story, rooted in the very ordinary. A few days ago, the story of Vidal appeared. After talking with Vidal, they did what any good journalist would do; someone went and found Ms. Lopez. You can easily read all of the story that unfolded as a result. In a middle school in a neighborhood with the highest crime rate in New York City, there's a principal who believes in her kids. She and Vidal met President Obama as a result of the story. Today is the last day for the crowdfunding campaign set up by Humans of New York to send kids from Vidal's school to Harvard. No, the kids won't necessarily be enrolling; visiting alone is a chance to say, "You can do even this!" The campaign far exceeded the goal and now money received is being used for a scholarship fund for that school. It's a story worth following from beginning to end.

So why on earth am I bothered by it? I confess, I spent some time mulling over why on earth I was bothered by this amazing outpouring of over a million dollars to help a struggling school help struggling students. I mean, really, that just seems wrong on my part. 

And maybe it is. I did figure out what was bothering me, though: this school needed something extraordinary because the ordinary was so bad. More than a million dollars infused into a school's budget in a meaningful way likely feels unbelievable to the entire school, including Ms. Lopez. I also think they'd trade it all for solid school funding and strong support from the immediate community. I could be wrong, of course.

But I'm pretty sure it would benefit the school more to have a steady stream of reliable funding to go beyond basic needs to dreams. It would benefit the school more to have a few dozen of Ms. Lopez--people who believe in the kids, are there for the kids, and will keep showing up with them and for them. Along the way, I realized I believe that because of the dollar I put in the offering plate every week as a kid. Go figure.

I didn't know that dollar made so much of a difference until twenty years later. In church world, we call that something like teaching stewardship. More often than not, I call it faithfulness. Faithfulness is one of the things I struggle with most on an intellectual level and believe most deeply all at the same time. Faithfulness is, well, boring, a lot of the time. It just is. In my case, in my church, it meant showing up each week, going to class, giving my dollar, and sitting very quietly in worship. It also meant being dragged along when my mom took food to sick people or dropped off fruit baskets to people in nursing homes.

Mostly boring, sometimes inconvenient, rarely exciting faithfulness in all things, just like putting my dollar in the offering plate. Now that faithfulness means yes, I give money intentionally, but I also show up at school plays and band concerts, anniversary parties and birthday parties. It's faithfulness to a community, called together by God. It's exceedingly ordinary and I'm learning to be ok with that. It means there are probably a few people who think fondly of me, but it won't earn media attention.

So I'm settling into my faithfulness, trusting that it does more than I think it does. Of course, I'll still read about Vidal's trip to Harvard.