Am I really helping?

I had to write a reflection paper on part of the book, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor.  

We only had to read one chapter, but I just couldn't put the book down and just read the rest of it.  After reading it, I would say it's a must read for anyone engaged in any mission effort or trying to encounter those in poverty in any circumstance.

I would also recommend anything Dave Livermore writes, including Serving With Eyes Wide Open, Cultural Intelligence, and his new book What Can I Do: Making a Global Difference Right Where You Are.  Dave's writing is well researched in rooted in current experiences with this issue.

I decided that I would post the reflection paper I wrote on the first book I mentioned.  Hope it is helpful or least enjoyable.

Over the years, I sensed a growing tension when I planned short-term missions efforts.  As our group was serving, I started to ask the question, “Who are we serving?”  Looking back, I was ashamed to be honest with the answer, us.  I am grateful for the opportunities I served and led, and I am ashamed that I enabled a broken system so beautifully articulated in the book, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor. 

            The authors stress three important distinctions: relief, rehabilitation, and development.  Most short-term missions efforts or even any initiatives I led and/or participated in before coming Mars Hill were more in the relief realm.  Relief is supposed to aid in the immediate suffering of someone when going through a crisis.  I was excited that we were able to make someone’s home more beautiful, but upon further reflection, realized much of what I was doing was something the residents could have done themselves (in most cases).  After years of this pattern, I questioned whether I was really trying to help myself or the people I was (allegedly) serving.  What was interesting as I looked back on my experiences is that the moments that seemed more helpful or sacred were the relationships that were being built throughout the week.  A concurrent sadness came when I realized that I would most likely never see them again.  I could imagine the disappointment from residents when we left, going back to the way things were before, almost viewing that week as a pipe dream. 

            This is not saying that all of these efforts were in vain.  Some of the places we visited were connected to a local agency or church who saw these people day in and day out, but I wondered whether our presence was really helpful, or if just giving materially might have helped out more.  Currently, I have a very hard time going to a place outside of our local context, never to visit again, and thinking that is called missions.  This book served as a confirmation to the tension I felt all of these years.  I felt ashamed and relieved.

            Another convicting part of this chapter was reading on the way we paternalize the poor.  As much I as I want to think I’m not operating under a middle-class, or white-privilege mentality, I do by the systems and cultural assumptions I promote.  If someone said “I have life figured out better than you do,” most people would be offended, and rightly so.  What was hard for me is that I was saying this phrase by my attitude and actions toward mission.  I thought, “If only I could come in and fix this, THEN they would have a better life.”  How many times have I heard the comment, “They taught us so much more than we taught them?”  Maybe I should pay attention to structuring how I serve around the second comment than the first. 

            What was even harder to swallow was the churches I served (this includes me) was proud to display how we were “serving the world for Christ.” Then showing a thousand photographs on what great servants we were, and the smiles we brought to those “poor” people.  Sadly, I still see many churches display this attitude, which makes me grateful to be in the place that I serve currently.  Having more cultural intelligence is messier work, but definitely redemptive.

            I think it’s easy to beat myself up for what had happened in the past.  I have asked God forgiveness for my arrogance.  My hope is that I will pursue the harder work of development, or at least discerning which of the three types of help is appropriate.  I also hope I can be more proactive in efforts of raising poverty awareness in educational settings.  Given what seems to be a middle-class model of education, many in poverty are trying to survive this system with seemingly no progress. While the task seems daunting, I feel my journey is starting to necessitate thinking through these kinds of issues.

            I am grateful for a place like Mars Hill that is not only thinking critically through these issues, but is engaging them head-on with integrity and wisdom.  The principles in this book must be taught to the North American church if we are to truly love those who are hurting.