What is Truth?

“For this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me,” said Jesus.” To which, Pontius Pilate asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). What is truth? The New Testament shows that Jesus came to testify to the truth that we are all beloved sons and daughters, to testify to the truth and reality of the social injustices going on in his time, and to testify to the truth of the freedom, healing, forgiveness, and mercy available to us if we choose to radically love our neighbors and God the Father as he did.

In his book, “Where is God?” John Sobrino says that if we hear and respond to the truth, it leads to a conversion. This is consistent with Jesus’ message of, “Those with ears to hear should hear (Mark 4:9)”. Jesus’ message and ministry were about conversion and transformation, not maintenance of the status quo. He was radical in the eyes of the people of his time. Sobrino notes that reality challenges us to see the truth (e.g. “with eyes to see”) of what’s going on in society and the world and react out of mercy.

Jesus’ call to conversion was a call for people to see the reality of what was going on in the world: the social injustices, economic injustices, cultural injustices, and political injustices. He told parables like the Good Samaritan that turned people’s expectations of cultural norms upside down, and he shared table fellowship with the outcast and downtrodden in his society. But why didn’t others see the world the way he saw it? Sobrino points out that the truth and how we see it is based on our cultural narrative and the group of people in power who are driving that cultural narrative in politics, society, and the media.

As Jesus experienced, blindness to truth often occurs because people are acting out of their head and not their heart. People in society both then and now are often trying to preserve their power, position, and possessions. In Roman times the poor, downtrodden, and widows had no status, and the Jews were captives in their own country. That was the cultural narrative the Romans and the Jewish leaders saw when they encountered Jesus. They saw him as dangerous because he was threatened to overthrow the current power structure.

Circling back to Jesus and Pilate’s original conversation in the praetorium, I would offer that that each of them was seeing different versions of the truth. Jesus’ vision of the truth was radical while Pilate’s was traditional (as defined by Peter Henriot). Pilate, as the authority holding power, defined (along with the Jewish leaders) what the “truth” was and were guilty of culpable blindness because they did not want to see the truth of “reality” that was right in front of them. Power was more important to them than truth.

In the words of Jack Nicholson from the movie, A Few Good Men, the Roman and Jewish leaders of the time, “couldn’t handle the truth,” that Jesus was talking about, and I think the same is true today. If the veil of injustice in our world was lifted tomorrow, our hearts would all break in sorrow for all of the poverty and suffering that exists.

A Slice of Life on the Red Line

It’s 8:30 AM the Friday before Labor Day weekend. Young and old, black and white get on the train at Jarvis. A black man wearing a business suit gets on at Morse. At Loyola there’s a white women with a stroller, and a black woman on her cell phone. A young girl texts a friend. A man in torn jeans calls but there is no answer. He’s holding a note pad and a large dictionary.

I also was holding a note pad that day. I observed who got on and who got off the Red Line at each stop from Howard to 95th Street and back again. It took about 3 hours all told. I saw the neighborhoods change as the passengers changed - - in dress, skin color, and temperment. I saw people moving in the world together, yet silently sitting in their own silent worlds while en route to their own private destinations. The only break in the library-like silence of the train was the occasional giggle of little children who didn’t know any better.

At Bryn Mawr a black boy waves to another passenger and makes them laugh. while other riders talk on the phone, text their friends, and listen to their iPods. At Berwyn, the boys’ mother holds her phone up to her son’s ear to have him join her conversation with a friend. When the child departs with his mother at Lawerence, he waves goodbye.

The diversity of the passengers is apparent at Lawerence as white, black and Hispanic board the train. At Jackson, the same diversity is visible amidst the sounds of a street performer who sings hip hop as the doors are closing. At Grand and Roosevelt, two Asian men board the train, and an Indian man boards at Garfield Park.

On the north side, passengers are largely white, wearing jeans or shorts. A girl sits next to me reading her eBook while holding a cup of coffee in her other hand. Several white men on the train choose to stand near the doors even though there are seats available.

On the south side, black passengers follow social norms that are less formal. Many nod off and sleep, some eat their breakfast, talk audibly on their cell phones, or put their feet up on a nearby seat while singing along with their MP3 player.
The racial divide on the morning train is obvious at Jackson, Monroe, and Chicago. Black men and women exit and white men and women get on. Also, white men exit at 35th street for the Sox game, and at the Addison stop for the Cub game.

No one boards the train at Granville and Argyle on the north side or 63rd, 69th, and 87th on the south side. At 79th street I realize for the first time that I am the only white person on the train car. For a moment I feel fearful. Then I smell pickles and see a woman behind me grab an onion ring from her Burger King sack and I realize I’m just part of the fabric of a diverse tapestry of people who ride the Red Line on the way to somewhere each day.

The Challenges of our Consumer Culture

Our consumer culture in America thrives each day because marketers and advertisers convince us that their product or service will fulfill a real or suggested need we have. Their pitch is that by buying this product or that, we will feel better, be happier, look younger, live longer, save time, save money, live better lives, or will simply differentiate ourselves from our neighbors. Do we buy stuff because we need it, because we want it, or because it makes us feel good? The answer is often one or more of the above.

John Kavanaugh, author of “Following Christ in a Consumer Society”, suggests that our consumer culture in America has become a method of self expression. Our buying behavior has become an expression of our thoughts, feelings, and even our identity. We see ourselves in the personae described in a specific brand. We buy the brand, and we become that brand or personae. We’re the Pepsi generation, who’s stuck on Band-Aid, is like Mike, and deserves a break today at McDonalds.

Meanwhile we do also have interior, spiritual lives that compete with the outside world to tell us who we really are. This voice doesn’t come from a radio or television ad, but from our Creator. In our consumer culture where our identities are often defined by what we wear, what we drive, and what we drink, our inner voice is often drowned out or simply ignored. We act on our feelings to buy goods and services each day, but we don’t feel safe expressing our interior feelings to friends, families, or to our community. Being reflective or contemplative doesn’t have a place in consumer culture unless it involves buying a bible, a self help book, or a yoga mat. There is no call or space in our culture to be quiet, vulnerable, and meek (as Jesus talks about in the Beatitudes). Instead we’re called to be busy, strong, and continuously gratified by external messages from movies, music, and smart phones.

The truth is, I believe, that marketers and advertisers have been more clever and successful at calling us to fulfill our interior desires with external stimuli than the Church has been at convincing us that the way to a fulfilling interior life is through prayer and reflection. In our culture very few people are proclaiming the benefits of a deep, peaceful prayer life and even fewer are listening. Why? I think our culture doesn’t know what to do with it. What are the outward fruits or benefits will I gain by spending/wasting time in prayer? Why would I want to spend an hour of quiet time reflecting on my mother or father wound and listening for the voice of a God I can’t see? What good is that going to do? It’s more productive to just grab a beer, watch a movie, and forget about it.

When we live in alignment with our consumer culture of keeping up with the Jones’, however, we are living a lie. We are not being the authentic selves God made us to be. Jesus says the Lord wants to take care of all of our day-to-day needs, “Do not worry about your life … look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more important than they? … So do not worry and say, “What are we to eat? Or What are we to wear? Your heavenly Father knows what you need … Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.” (Matthew 6:25- 34)

To cope with the disconnect with our interior lives that comes from our consumer culture, Roger Betsworth says in his book, “Social Ethics”, we often construct Cover Stories to help us find a sense of affirmation and safety. Real Story: “How can I work at McDonald’s during the day and read Martha’s Stewart’s “Living” at night, and still feel good about myself? Cover Story: Well, this job is only temporary until I finish school, so it’s okay for me to fantasize about what my first house might look like.” Cover Stories protect us from the truth and pain of who we really are.

In summary, you could say that in our society, consumerism is the Cover Story that most Americans buy into on a daily basis. First, consumerism is a part of the cultural narrative of how we Americans look at the world, and, second, it is part of the story we try to maintain everyday about our identities. “I am this type of person in our society because I can afford these things. It’s not really who I am, but I work every day to maintain this story and standard of living because people would reject me if I didn’t. I would never let people know how wounded and fearful a person I really am. Without all these possessions I would feel naked and alone.”

My Yoke is Easy and My Burden is Light

A key part of my faith journey these days involves paying attention to apparent coincidences. As a Christian I believe God is acting in my life every day so these coincidences can be seen as evidence that he is speaking to me.

I had one such coincidence occur the other day when I heard Matthew 11:30 repeated to me twice within an hour by two different people, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light." So I began to meditate on the scripture to see what the Lord was trying to tell me.

The first "Aha" I experienced came after Googling the word, "yoke" to see what one actually looked like, and I was surprised to realize that a yoke is designed for TWO oxen to put a plow, wagon, or other farming implement. And furthermore, farmers would usually pair one seasoned ox with a younger ox in the yoke to train him in the work being done.

So immediately I got this image of Jesus right beside me as the seasoned ox, helping me shoulder the load of my yoke and guiding me on the path ahead. But actually I realized that he was asking me to be yoked to HIM and his work, rather than giving me strength to carry MY yoke, a yoke that I had been intent on carrying.

What does this scripture require of me? How does it convict me? Well first it tells me that I've got to let go of the yokes I've been hanging on to - - burdens I've chosen or clung to that are not Christ's burdens. Then I need to choose be obedient to him and follow him in carrying HIS yoke.

It's a paradoxical concept because, on the one hand I know that Christ came that I might have life and have it more abundantly, but on the other hand he wants me to be yoked to him. Does it make me a slave to him? Aren't I giving up my freedom? Well, yest and no. I think he calls me to carry this yoke with him and by doing so I'll experience the freedom of his love and grace. I don't want to be yoked to selfish desires, worldly things, or sinful things. I want to be yoked to someone who loves me and wants to give me my heart's desire - - so I actually GAIN my freedom by surrendering and being yoked to him.

Another interpretation of this scripture comes from the perspective that Jesus was telling his followers at the time not to be yoked to the 613 Jewish purity laws that the Pharisees would lord over them. I can see a connection to this teaching in my own life also. What things do I burden myself with daily, saying, "I should be doing this, I should be doing that. I'm not doing enough, etc."

I don't think Jesus wants us to "should" ourselves to death. He wants us to do our best, he wants us to love him, and he wants us to enjoy our life. When we "should" ourselves to death, we are focused on what we didn't do yesterday and what we have to do tomorrow and we are not living in the present moment. We are carrying anxiety and burdens about work left undone and are not at peace.

I think that is what Jesus is saying in this scripture. He says in the preceding lines, "I will give you rest," "learn from me," and, "I am gentle and humble of heart." So he wants to give us a peaceful, fulfilling life not a burdensome and troubling life - - but it takes that first step of agreeing to be yoked to his will, not our own.

I'll have to admit that I also see parallels to Jesus' conversation with Peter in John 21:18 in this scripture. In it, Jesus says to Peter, "When you were younger you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go."

Like Peter before me, only by professing my love for Christ and carrying his yoke can my heart find peace. I'm learning that it's a struggle everyday to recommitt to this, but I know that if I do he will help me carry the load and grant me his peace.

The Voice That Calls Me By Name

Have you ever been in love? Do you remember what it’s like: the giddiness, the joy, the laughter, and excitement? You can’t wait to see their face, hear their voice, or hold their hand. And everything they do is adorable. You love their name, their hair, their smile, and you start to fantasize about what it might be like to have your names carved into the side of a tree with a big heart around it, or printed on embossed wedding invitations. The first time he or she says the “L” word, though, you have to decide how you’re going to respond? Do you say, “Me too,” “Ditto,” or do you step up to the plate and actually say, “I love you!”

In my reflection last week I spent some time with John 21 and felt challenged by the passages in which Jesus asks Peter (21:15), “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” “(21:16) Simon, son of John, do you love me?” And a third time (21:17), “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” As I unpacked these passages with my spiritual director it never really occurred to me that God wanted or needed to hear ME say, “I love you.” I mean if “God is love,” as it says in 1 John 4:16, why does he need me to confirm this for him?

I was still chewing on this question when I chose “The Good Shepherd” discourse (in John, Chapter 10) to reflect on this week. I wasn’t sure at first if “The Good Shepherd” was a good passage to select according to John Shea’s criteria because, while interesting, it doesn’t really contain any plot. It seemed more of a metaphorical discourse about God’s salvic love for us, but I decided to give it a shot anyway.

As I reflected on the passage, a couple of things jumped out at me. In John 10:2 Jesus says, “The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The keeper opens the gate for him. The sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own by name and leads them out.” Then in John 10:4 Jesus says, “(the gatekeeper) walks ahead of them and the sheep follow him because they recognize his voice.” And finally, in John 10:9, Jesus says, “I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be safe.” Like you, I’ve heard this discourse a hundred times, but for some reason this time the words “name” and “voice” jumped out at me when I heard it, so I decided to explore that.

First, I totally get the metaphor about the shepherd and the sheep, and it was probably a metaphor that was easy for the people of Jesus’ time to understand too because shepherds and sheep were so commonplace back then, but it felt to me like there was something else going on in the narrative so I let my mind wander as I meditated on the story. This meditation led me initially to think about Jesus’ baptism by John at the river Jordan. In fact I looked at the various accounts of the baptism story in all the Gospels and realized that this is the first time Jesus was audibly told by the voice of his Father that he is beloved (Luke 3:21), “You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests.”

Next, I thought about Moses’ first exchange with the voice of God on Mt. Sinai in the burning bush, and how Moses goes through the trouble of asking God (Exodus 3:13), “When I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.”

These reflections on the voice of God confirmed for me that in The Good Shepherd discourse, there is something more going on when Jesus calls “his own by name” and “the sheep hear his voice (10:3-4).” So I started to reflect on my own experiences of being loved and thought about what it’s like to hear the voice of someone you love on your voicemail or hear them call you from across the room at a party. What I realized was your name seems to sound different when that person says it because it’s coming from the voice of someone who loves you. You not only hear your name, but you hear the love they have for you when they call.

Going back on John 21 for a minute, I’m struck by the fact that Jesus calls Peter deliberately by his name three times, “Simon, son of John … Simon, son of John … Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Could it be more obvious? This calling of Jesus is not just a metaphor anymore. He IS calling us by name, just like Peter, calling us to intimate love, relationship, and to our commission. He calls us by name into the sheepfold because he loves us, and he demonstrates this great love by laying “down his life for (us) the sheep (10:11).”

Next, I started to think about related scripture passages I was familiar with and it occurred to me, that just like any other mutual relationship of love between Bill and Barbara, Sally and Sam, and Dick and Donna - - God wants us to call HIM by name in this relationship of love too!

• “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy NAME.” (Luke 11:2)
• “I am the Lord, this is my NAME” (Isaiah 42:8)

And the same is true of the Son of God! As The Good Shepherd, Jesus allows God’s grace to flow whenever we pray in his NAME:
• “Whatever you ask in my NAME I will do.” (John 14:13)
• “All you ask the Father in my NAME, he will give to you.” (John 15:16)
(Ironically, this realization came to me while I was attending mass at Holy NAME Cathedral yesterday.)

So in closing, my reflection on The Good Shepherd revealed something to me I hadn’t expected. The scripture wasn’t just a metaphor for how obediently following The Good Shepherd was going to help me gain salvation, it was about a shepherd who wanted me to (1) hear his voice, (2) hear him call me by name, and (3) love him so much in return that I wanted to follow him through the narrow gate and not be distracted by the voice of strangers, thieves or bandits. The Good Shepherd calls me into a relationship of mutual love with him on a first name basis, yes, just like Moses and Peter, (I said yes, just like Moses and Peter) not a relationship of blind obedience in hopes of earning his love. He wants to be the lover I think about when I go to sleep at night and the lover I can’t wait to spend time with when I awake - - the name on my lips and the name in my heart.

Breakfast with Jesus

Chapter 21 of the Gospel of John, begins with Peter telling the five other apostles who are gathered with him at the Sea of Tiberias, “I am going fishing,” and they all respond by saying,” We also will come with you.” After fishing all night long and catching nothing, Jesus appears on the shore at dawn and tells them to,”Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something.” The apostles oblige, but are not able to pull in the net because of the large number of fish that fill it. Taking note of this miraculous catch, the apostle John says to Peter, “It is the Lord,” - - which motivates Peter to jump into the sea and swim to the shore to see Jesus. Meanwhile, the rest of the apostles drag the net of 153 fish with them by boat to the shore.

Upon arrival to the shore, the apostles see a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it, and Jesus says to them, “Bring some of the fish you just caught,” and, ”Come have breakfast.” The apostles, join Jesus for breakfast though they don’t seem to fully recognize him. He then takes the bread and fish and gives it to them to eat.
“When they have finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, Simon son of John, do you love me more than these? He said to him, Yes Lord; you know that I love you. Jesus said to him, Feed my lambs.” Jesus questions Peter two more times about his love for him, to which Jesus replies, “Tend my sheep” and “Feed my lambs.”

Initial Insight
I’ve always enjoyed reflecting on John 21 because I love to imagine having breakfast with Jesus at a morning campfire on the beach. It is a welcoming, fun image for me of hanging out with Christ in nature. It’s the way I enjoy being in fellowship with other men and having this carefree time with Jesus is something that feels welcoming, comforting and collegial to me.
I must confess, however, that as I enter into this scripture meditation that I already have a relationship with the text. Besides liking the image of having a morning beachfront breakfast with Jesus, the dialogue that Jesus has with Peter after breakfast is something I’ve actually heard whispered in my ears. Specifically, during a time of evening prayer in an empty St. Clement Church, I was reflecting on the call of some of the great prophets in scripture (e.g. Moses, Gideon, David, Jonah, and Paul) and I got on my knees and asked the Lord, “So what do you want ME to do?,” and I heard the words, “Feed my lambs, Tend my sheep.” This was a startling insight, and has been a clue to me that the Lord is calling me to serve in some kind of ministry but I’m still discerning how to live out that call.

New Insight
In the scripture story, Jesus reveals himself to his disciples again. In perspective, Jesus has already appeared to them at least four times prior to this event in the Gospel of John. (e.g. Mary Magdeline at the tomb when she mistakes him for the gardener, the two men leaving Jerusalem for Emmaus, the ten apostles hiding out in the upper room, and week later to the same group - - plus Thomas who was not present previously and asks to put his hands inside Jesus’ wounds). What this chronology tells me is that the apostles don’t get it. They don’t yet “get” the resurrection. This is a startling insight that hadn’t struck me before, especially since Thomas, for instance, has just had physical contact with the wounds of Jesus and proclaims, “My Lord and My God!”

Abundance = Jesus
Another thing that strikes me about the scripture is that there are so many fish in the net that the apostles cannot empty the net into the boat, so they drag the net of fish to shore, yet the net does not break. Like the feeding of the 5000 and similar miracles, this miracle stirs John’s heart (and possibly the other apostles’ hearts) to realize, “It is the Lord.” They can’t see Christ with their eyes, but they see him with their hearts. Abundance is Jesus’ calling card. “It’s the Lord.”
I once heard and evangelical preacher say, “When Christ shows up, Christ shows off,” and I’ve experienced this first hand in my life when abundant blessings (experiences, finances) show up that are bigger that I was expecting or imagined. So these abundant encounters with Christ stir our hearts to make us realize (like the abundance of fish) “It’s the Lord” - - meaning I didn’t do this so the Lord must have, and “Wow” what a blessing it is!

The scripture also shows me that because the abundance of fish the apostles encounter is so great they have to “drag” the net to shore. I think this is true of blessings I’ve received also. My heart is used to a diet of three square meals a day of soup, sandwiches, and salad - - but the minute someone wants to offer me lobster (e.g. all you can eat lobster) - - by first reaction is one of wow and wonder rather than, “Let’s eat.” My heart wants to soak in this blessing and make sense of it first. I can’t digest all of it at once because Christ’s abundant blessing is much bigger than my small hardened heart. And I think Jesus shows us/me in the scripture that he knows this miraculous blessing will “wow” us, so he helps us unpack it. “Bring some of the fish you just caught.” “Let me help you unpack that. Let me help you enjoy this blessing I want to give you. This is what I am about. I want to bless you with abundance. Let me help you.”

Jump in With Both Feet
The scripture tells us that Peter “jumped into the sea” upon hearing “It is the Lord.” Peter is the excitable apostle it seems who always wants to walk on the water with Jesus, be bathed entirely by Jesus on Holy Thursday, and wields his sword when Jesus is betrayed by Judas in the garden. I see myself in Peter in this reading in many ways, but what I see Jesus trying to uncover in his questioning of Peter is, “What’s underneath you enthusiasm for me and my ministry? You just returned to fishing a few hours ago, and the six other apostles followed you. You have been with me three years, and I know you are my friend, but do you love me? Are you willing and prepared to follow me? Do you love me more than these? Do you love me more than fishing? Do you love me enough to give up your old way of life and suffer and die for me? Those are big questions.

The stakes in the conversation are elevated by the fact that this is the first recorded time Peter has spoken to Jesus since he denied him three times. So in a sense Jesus is saying in a back-handed way, “I already forgive you for denying me,Peter. So don’t worry about it. What I really want to know is if you love me so that I know where our relationship stands in the future. Can I trust you? Can I rely on you? I’ve got big plans, and I think you’re the man for the job, but I need to know if you’re up for this.”

In my own life, believe it or not, I’ve been practicing for this conversation with Jesus. To overcome some of the past fears in my life I regularly spend time praying and meditating by the north branch of the Chicago River. It’s a beautiful and peaceful place. As part of my meditation, I step into the river with both feet (with my shoes on) and tell the Lord I’m ready for whatever he is calling me to do. I ask him just to shepherd me and reveal the path to me so that I can participate in his Kingdom. It has been a helpful ritual for my spiritual growth and to practice saying “Yes, Lord you know that I love you.”

A Short Course in Love
In summary, as I’m learning, I think John 21 is a short training course on Christ’s love for us. In the first phase, call it Love 1.0, Jesus shows us the abundant life he wants to bless us with as his Beloved (i.e. an overflowing net of fish). It the second phase, call it Love 2.0, Christ calls us to participate in his Kingdom and be his reflection of love in the world. Yes, he wants us to praise him, but he also wants us to participate with him and be his hands and feet - - with feet that jump out of the fishing boat in a spirit of excitement and commitment that challenges us to give up our old way of life (i.e. fishing), and with hands that aren’t afraid to heal the sick or be stretched across the cross to suffer in his name.

Are We Afraid of Socialism or Just Afraid of Sharing?

It's been interesting observing the whole healthcare debate over the past year in the U.S. and what lines of defense and arguments people have been hanging their hat on. At the same time we all know that we collectively depend on government in specific areas of our lives to make our country run effectively, (whether we like it or not) to provide a strong military, welfare to the poor, some kind of educational standards, and laws that try to reflect our morality.

Amidst this debate, however, fear seems to always be the trump card that is played to try and convince people that government intervention is bad. I'm not siding with one point of view or another, but just observing that in America we seem to be acting like immature adolescents in the public forum more often than not because none of us seems to have the stomachs or attention spans for an informed debate with some give and take.

Our collective psyche seems to be bent on the dualism of labeling someone's approach or ideas as "wrong," rather than figuring out how to solve real problems with real solutions. I would go so far as to say that because of this dualistic debate and the related partisanship, that our leaders are no longer focused on solving problems for Americans at large, but on winning arguments and fighting for self-preservation (aka re-election).

So what's the solution? I say it's humility and charity - - practices that cause each of us (especially our leaders) to be vulnerable and die to themselves - - and think of the other guy, not just their own necks. Because we are not more humble and charitable as a country, I think THAT is why we are creating more government-funded (aka socialist) policies. "I'm not willing to directly help my neighbor who's lost their job, but I'll begrudgingly allow the government take something out of my paycheck to help them."

Humility and charity come from love, generosity, and a sense that life is not just about ME. Socialism comes from abdicating responsibility for those in need to government. Socialism is growing out of an individualistic culture in America that is more focused on it's own welfare than the welfare of others. So we triangulate the care we give our neighbor via the government rather than helping them directly ourselves. To be blunt, our country is too selfish and individualistic to help our neighbor, so we outsource that help to the government. That is what socialism really is in my opinion.

As Jesus showed us, the feeding of the 5,000 only occurred because a few gave what little they had (fishes and loaves) so the Lord could bless it and create abundance. If we don't participate in service to others through humility and charity, God can't bless our work and create abundance from it. So I think the only way to stop socialistic changes in society is to create more REAL Christians, Christians who will love, feed, and clothe thy neighbor, not just go to Church on Sunday. Can we do that? I'm not sure.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus say, "The poor you will always have with you but I will only be with you a short time." In meditating on this scripture I've come to realize that our heart for loving the poor and those in need will never be as big as the heart of Jesus, so yes, we WILL always have the poor with us.

Finally, I would offer that capitalism isn't necessarily better than the renewed socialist direction our country is taking. The previous administration in Washington had no interest in addressing the healthcare debate so instead the current administration did. A market-based economy is great for creating jobs and wealth, but in a capitalistic society there will always be, as Jesus said, those who do not have jobs and wealth. So what's our long-term strategy to help them? Humility and charity. Only our hearts can fix these societal ills, not our wallets, not a government program - - and that's what Jesus wants from us.

I was at a church meeting six months ago where a wealthy man in the audience was upset by the idea that the government was going to increase his tax rate to help fund programs for the poor (aka socialism), and it was interesting to observe his anger. He said, "I should be able to decide what charities my money goes to, not the government." I think his heart was in the right place, but it seemed like his pride was getting in the way too. At the same time, however, I think he was trying to say, as a Christian, that I'd rather be charitable to my neighbor rather than the government telling me how charitable I should be (via government programs and increased taxes).

At the end of the day, I think the only solution is to realize that in all of our actions we are working to build the Kingdom of God, not our own individual kingdoms. It's all God's money to begin with, we're just stewards of it for a short time here on earth. So as long as we're humble and charitable with our gifts, God will take care of the rest and make sure those in need are taken care of, in the same way that Jesus fed the 5,000. So the answer isn't socialism or capitalism, the answer is humility and charity.