Author: Paul Louis Metzger

This piece was originally published at Patheos on December 29, 2012.

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Entitlement thinking is a classless thing. It cheapens the people who demand special privileges and things they do not deserve.

What are we entitled to as Americans, whether we are rich or poor or somewhere in between?

What are we entitled to as American Christians, whatever our socio-economic status?

As Americans, are we entitled to universal health care? Are we entitled to malnutrition and disease?

As Christians, are we entitled to certain religious privileges not awarded to others based on being here first? Keep in mind that we weren’t here first. The First Nations or Native Americans were here first, and the land was taken from them. As my Lakota Sioux friend Richard Twiss says, “The reason why they call it the land of the free is because they never paid us for it.” So, how are we dominant or majority culture Americans and American Christians entitled to special privileges for something we did not earn or buy?

If we have money, should we necessarily spend it all? Or should we live below our means? I remember a realtor telling my wife and me that we should get a bigger house when we have more money. Her statement struck me as odd. It wasn’t because of need but because of societal expectations and the accompanying sense of entitlement. Of course, I should expect most realtors to try to get me to sell and buy bigger. After all, from their vantage point, that’s their job. Still, my realtor expected me to take her point on board as a self-evident truth: more money means by necessity more and bigger and better things. Not so to John Wesley, the father of Methodism. He said, “Having first gained all you can, and secondly saved all you can, then give all you can” (John Wesley, “The Use of Money,” in Albert C. Outler, ed., The Works of John Wesley, vol. 2, Sermons II, 34-70 {Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1985}, p. 277). Notice that there was nothing in his statement about spending as much as you can. And by the way, he gave a lot away to those who were in need.

God gave his very best to those who were in need. God gave us his Son (John 3:16). God’s economy is one of self-giving love, not of getting as much as one can for oneself. God sacrifices himself for the other, even and especially when the other doesn’t deserve it or even care. God is not the God who climbs the ladder, but who demonstrates his glory in downward mobility (See Philippians 2:6-8) and trickle up economics that make it possible for all of us to experience the riches of his grace (See Ephesians 4:7-13; while the passage is about spiritual gifting in the ecclesial body bound up with Christ’s descent and ascent, it reflects the heart of a God who gives good gifts to people in various ways in view of his mercy in Christ and makes it possible for them to be good stewards of his grace).

In contrast to the entitlement thinking so prevalent in our culture, God’s grace makes people grateful. Those who are not grateful have not truly experienced God’s grace. God’s grace makes it possible for me to be thankful. I am thankful for the computer salesman yesterday who told us not to go with a more expensive model; he said we did not need it. I am thankful for my medical doctor friend who as a Christian does not get his children everything they want, even though he could. I am thankful for the man in poverty who does not demand from others, and is grateful for what he receives. I am also thankful for people who have made it who realize they did not do it alone, and would not have made it without others’ helping hands. There is something so classy about gratitude.

One of the classiest individuals I know is Dr. John M. Perkins. Several years ago, this elderly African American Christian civil rights leader from Mississippi spoke in one of the most distinguished and affluent churches in the Greater Portland area where I work. He told the congregation that he has a debt of gratitude to pay to God. Please note that Dr. Perkins was born into poverty. His mother died breastfeeding him. He only has the formal education of a fifth grader. He was beaten nearly to death by white police officers in 1970 for his efforts as a pastor and community leader in caring for the marginalized African American population in his town in Mississippi. And yet, he told this congregation of mostly white middle and upper middle class people in Portland, Oregon that he has a debt of gratitude to pay to God for how God’s love and grace in Jesus has so transformed his life. By the time he was done speaking, the congregation was in tears, sensing no doubt how indebted they themselves are to God to hear such a man speak and to receive the free gift of eternal life for which Dr. Perkins himself is so grateful.

Say goodbye to entitlement thinking and a classless society. Say hello to gratitude and class.

Dr. Perkins’ life is a living metaphor or parable of the kingdom of God. That is why I like to reflect upon his life and work so much. He is also a model American. Smart. Industrious. Entrepreneurial. Hard working. As the co-founder of the Christian Community Development Association, author of numerous books, and advisor to several U.S. Presidents, he preaches and teaches that handouts don’t help restore people’s dignity. Nor a system that keeps people down. He teaches that people should work and work hard. He also teaches that the government should work hard for the people in need to help them move toward sustainability. Dr. Perkins calls on the government and investors and communities to make it possible for the poor to own the pond (See such works of his as Beyond Charity: The Call to Christian Community Development and With Justice for All: A Strategy for Community Development). It is not enough to give the poor fish or to teach them to fish. We need to make it possible to help the poor take ownership of the economic pond. We need to come alongside them and teach them skills and provide microenterprise loans and invest in them so that they can get going and get ahead.

It’s very hard for people to pick themselves up by the bootstraps if they don’t have any, as one African American pastor said. It’s very difficult for people to pick themselves up, if their kneecaps have been broken one too many times, as a white ivy league academic told me. As Dr. Perkins has told countless people, he needed other people’s help to get going and get ahead. He especially needed God’s help. He’s so grateful that God and others provided. How about you and me? Are we grateful for the level of success to which we have attained? Do we realize that others have made it possible for us to be where we are and that we did not do it alone?

In one sense, none of us are entitled to anything other than God’s judgment. We do not deserve God’s grace. That’s why we are all indebted, and in more than one way. We are indebted to God and others and we demonstrate it by caring for others who don’t deserve our compassion, just as we don’t deserve God’s grace (See Matthew 18:21-35; while the passage is about forgiveness, Jesus makes use of imagery bound up with forgiving economic debts; the same principle applies).

My friend Scott Olson works for a homeless shelter for families called My Father’s House. They are out to change the conversation regarding entitlement and charity for the rich and poor and everyone else in between. Some of the homeless people with whom Scott and his colleagues work feel entitled to handouts. Some of them don’t know any better, he says. All they’ve ever known is poverty and charity. My Father’s House patiently works with the families in order that they might develop a sense of dignity and take responsibility for their lives. Others with whom they work are incapacitated on account of drugs and alcohol and systemic shortcomings. They cannot make it on their own, even though they want to make it and are really trying to make it work. Finally, there are those who do make it as a result of the efforts of Scott and his fellow workers at My Father’s House. They move toward a place of sustainability, where they no longer need to rely on the government and non-profits like his ministry to stand on their own feet.

Scott and those at My Father’s House are grateful for the privilege of working with these various people, even though it is costly and draining at times. They do not sense that they are entitled to working with ‘better’ people. In view of God’s grace, they realize that they themselves are indebted to God who has given them a place at the table in his house.

Grace and gratitude change the conversation. Rich and poor and everyone in between move beyond entitlement thinking when grace is in our hearts, our homes, and in the public square. Together we become a people with a whole lot of class who redistribute our wealth freely because of our shared need.

This piece was originally published at Patheos on December 27, 2012.

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Did you know that according to the U.S. Census Bureau, nearly 50 million Americans are living in poverty? The 2011 U.S. Census figure for those living in poverty was 46 million. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-Operation and Development, the U.S. ranked third-highest in poverty among developed nations in 2011; Turkey and Mexico were the only developed nations whose rates were higher. You may be wondering what the poverty line is: according to the Office of Management and Budget “and updated for inflation using the Consumer Price Index, the weighted average poverty threshold for a family of four in 2011 was $23,021.” There are scores of other people who rise above this line but who are finding it very hard not to fall.

I have found that poverty does not respect age or hard work or place. Did you know that more than one out of every five young children lives in poverty in the U.S., the wealthiest nation on earth? The U.S. Bureau of Labor claims that more than 7 million Americans are working two or more jobs in the effort to make ends meet. And did you know that suburban poverty has now surpassed urban poverty?

You can find out this kind of information and more just by checking out the links above and watching the documentary, The Line. You and I will find in watching the movie and through experience that this is more than information about percentages. It is about real people’s lives—people just like us.

Perhaps we presently think that it is only lazy people, or people with no education, or people who don’t have the necessary experience who face poverty. Perhaps the only time that we will take it to heart that poverty is no respecter of persons is when we come to realize that falling below the poverty line could happen to us. The Line’s story of individuals like “John”—a hard working, well-educated man who had done quite well financially until the economic floor beneath his feet gave way—suggests that it could happen to anyone.

As the debate on the fiscal cliff continues in Washington, we need to consider how lawmakers’ decision or indecision will affect everyone, especially the most vulnerable, in the short-term and long-term. This is no academic or partisan exercise for those who fall below the poverty line, or for God for whom caring for the poor and oppressed, including the orphan and widow in their distress, is central to true religion (See for example Luke 4:16-21 and James 1:27). We need to engage in rigorous, bi-partisan discourse that addresses hard realities and hard issues concerning the poor, as those set forth in this recent article by Jim Wallis, “Our Fiscal Soul and the Arithmetic of Protecting the Poor.”

As my view of being pro-life has expanded over the years in view of Scripture and the complexities of life, I have come to cherish public policy concern not only for those not yet born but also for those who have been born who are at risk. We need a theology and a politics that is pro-life, all of life, across the board. Such a pro-life package will include advocacy for the poor. We need to make sure that Jesus’ mission which highlighted the poor (Luke 6:20) in addition to the poor in spirit (Matthew 5:3) is not aborted.

If we don’t care about what Scripture says, or about protecting the poor, we should at least ask and answer the following question: who will be there for the rest of us, if we trip and fall over the fiscal cliff and into poverty?

This piece was originally published at Patheos on December 24, 2012.

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Today and tomorrow, countless people around the world will celebrate the birth of Jesus. Some people will celebrate his birth in the midst of great suffering and loneliness. Perhaps they will take comfort from the fact that the Lord himself was “a man of sorrows,” “familiar with suffering” (Isaiah 53:3).

One of my favorite Christmas carols is “What Child Is This?” by William Chatterton Dix. The song comes from a poem “The Manger Throne” that emerged out of a time of great suffering and depression for Dix. Dix endured a startling and serious sickness that almost killed him. He was bedridden for quite some time, during which he experienced the depression. The poem and song that finally emerged from this ordeal bear witness to the revelation of Jesus’ glory cloaked in mystery.

We need to wrap ours heads around the mystery of this child and allow him to wrap our hearts. But our hearts are often so hard. We need to be born again and again at his birth to be able to comprehend the mystery of his humble glory. Sometimes sorrow and silence are needed to break our hearts so that the glory of the one to whom Dix refers as “the Silent Word” can break through.

We often tend to think that the best way to celebrate Christ’s advent or appearance is loud Christmas music and laughter. Certainly, they have their place. But what of those who are bedridden and cloaked in silence this Christmas? Will Christ not appear to them? We might find that this babe will be found even more by them. Who knows? Songs of great worshipful mystery may arise from their souls, as Jesus’ light breaks into their darkness.

No matter what our circumstances are, we can take comfort from the fact that “‘The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’—which means, ‘God with us’” (Matthew 1:23). We shouldn’t be surprised to find that the same Jesus who cloaked himself in the garment of frail infant flesh and who was born outside the inn will be with those cloaked in frailty and forlornness. God will be with them—Immanuel.

This piece was originally published at Patheos on December 22, 2012.

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There’s something very magical about Christmas for many people. The reasons vary, from sensing something special in the air to falling snow against the backdrop of a lit night sky to Christmas lights and nostalgic music to the anticipation over giving and receiving presents. The list goes on.

The children’s Christmas concert I attended the other night was filled with Christmas magic. The children varied in size and age and musical ability, as they played their instruments and sang. What was most magical to me was the sense of normalcy as parents, siblings and friends watched with pride and joy, snapping pictures and videotaping their kids as they performed. After the past several days bombarded with gun shots and news reports of tragedy, the room filled with regular people and nostalgic Christmas music played by aspiring amateur musicians was magical.

There was nothing amateur about the conductor, though. He is a professional musician in every way—how he carries himself, his dramatic flair, and skill in conducting and accompanying his young apprentices with instruments. By looking at his face and gestures, one would never know if his music students had made a mistake. He praised them appropriately and led everyone in the celebration of the festivities.

Taking it all in took me back in time to reflect upon what that first Christmas must have been like. Bethlehem was by no means Jerusalem. It was a normal little town, I suppose. The divine conductor chose the town of the shepherd boy David for the birthplace of the Messiah (Matthew 2:6). The heavenly choir performed—not for royalty in music halls, but for shepherds watching their flocks in the fields by night (Luke 2:8). Amateurs performed in the Christmas pageant as well. Just think of Mary and Joseph; as great as their faith was, they were very average people by most accounts (Luke 1:39-56; 2:4-7). Then there were the aged Anna and Simeon (Luke 2:25-38). The foreign dignitary wise men would make their appearance later (Matthew 2:1-12).

God was with us—even us—Immanuel (Matthew 1:23). The uncommon God sees fit to live among an all-too-common people. There is something magical about all this to me. Something so supra-normal cloaked in normalcy. So often, the kingdom of God appears to us in this fashion. The divine conductor makes it possible for all of us to play a part. Of course, there is the pursuit of excellence, but there is also the place for everyone to make a joyful noise to the Lord.

I hope and pray that we can bring a bit of this Christmas magic into the coming year and make space for everyone to play their parts to their hearts’ content and to the best of their abilities. Not writing them off or making them exit center stage, but making room for them in our hearts, even today.

This piece was originally published at Patheos on December 21, 2012.

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During the Depression years, people conserved. More recently, when facing tragedy and crisis, Americans have been called upon to consume. You may recall the Bush Administration’s talk of supporting the war effort in Afghanistan by going shopping and the terrorists hating our freedoms. Did such talk disguise our bondage to consumerism? If so, America’s greatness as a nation has been greatly diminished.  To some, its Messianic vision for America’s role in the world was/has been reduced to “Save the world; spend money,” as a friend once remarked. A similar point on consumption was raised in a post-9/11 New Yorker cartoon caption that read, “I figure if I don’t have that third martini, then the terrorists win.” What has terrorized Americans more—the terrorists or the all-consuming fear of not having enough?

It is important to pause at this juncture to complicate the matter. While the consumerist ideology is certainly problematic from a variety of angles, including the compulsive drive to buy and sell far beyond what is needed to survive, we must come to terms with the fact that we live in a society increasingly dependent on consumerism. Consumption itself is not the problem. Consumption is a part of life. It is inordinate consumption that is the problem. However, it is very difficult for most of us to get a handle on what inordinate consumption looks like.  What do you think it looks like—from the intake of food to the purchases at Christmas? Morgan Spurlock’s films Super Size Me and What Would Jesus Buy? give us some unique perspectives on America’s inordinate consumption patterns. Take a look.

It is not only difficult for most of us to get a handle on what inordinate consumption looks like. It is also exceptionally difficult to come up with an alternative system to the consumerist culture bound up as it is with the capitalist, free market system. Such an alternative would need to safeguard the well-being of people in terms of economic sustainability on a personal and societal level. For many, no credible answer appears forthcoming in terms of economic structures and the society at large. It is difficult to come up with compelling alternatives to the consumerist and capitalist, free market system running rampant in the broader culture given how dependent our culture is on it. Consumerism (which involves getting what I want, when I want it, and at the least cost to myself, a point made in my book Consuming Jesus) is certainly destroying American society; and yet, given the current structuring of the economy and culture, if Americans were simply to stop consuming, the society would likely collapse. Thus, there appears to be some merit to the call to go out and shop and spend.  One must guard against sheer polemics, especially if no superior alternative is put forth.  The old saying, “Put up or shut up” applies here.

Moreover, it is equally problematic, if not more so, for doomsayers of consumerism to rage against this demonic force if they themselves are beneficiaries of the consumerist system: getting rich off of a niche audience of disillusioned and market savvy consumers, who buy their books by the dozens.  To the extent that this is so, such doom and gloom prophets actually bite the hand that feeds them.  Furthermore, if such doom saying is taken seriously and acted upon in such a way that people refuse to shop and spend money, it will likely impact most severely those individuals these prophets claim to want to aid most—the poor, who are even more dependent upon that same hand that feeds them.  At the very least, regardless of one’s position, it is incumbent upon those weighing in on consumerism to demonstrate an awareness of the complexity of the problem.

One thing that can and should be said is that the driving, motivating force behind the market should not be to acquire greater wealth but to redistribute the wealth and resources acquired so as to benefit all people, especially the poor (Pope John Paul II makes a similar claim in his critique of the free market in Centesimus Annus, 1989). We also need to consider more ways to establish micro-enterprises among the poor. Such enterprises do not use people to build the economy, but rather build the economy around people, especially those most vulnerable, assisting them in moving toward sustainability in their communities. Muhammad Yunus’s work, while criticized and under scrutiny in his home country, is a sterling example of the kind of program that needs to be implemented in various quarters among the poor around the world. The work of John M. Perkins and the Christian Community Development Association also provide models of people and organizations coming alongside and working among the poor so that they can also take ownership of their economic futures rather than be dependent on charity and terrorized by poverty.