People need People

It was an exciting day when classes finally resumed in person. Jack was so excited he loosely volunteered to order pizza and stay after class. He was shocked when Hannah wanted him to make good on his offer haha. Which is ridiculous because who doesn’t want pizza combined with a good hangout? He didn’t carry through, but the relief from spending class time with my friends made up for the absence of pizza. People need people and it is as simple as that.

This is a photo I took off the internet, not a photo a personally captured.

During the first few weeks after classes resumed, I spent time searching for volunteer opportunities in Be’er Sheva. One I found particularly appealing was a Soup Kitchen in the Old City called Be’er Sova. I wanted to be involved in something that was more than sitting, something involving action, and meeting tangible needs. I contacted a man named Erez about volunteering and he invited me to come anytime from Sunday to Thursday in the mornings. I confirmed my chosen time with Erez with the hope he would be present to show me the ropes when I arrived. As I walked through the door for the first time, I entered a world devoid of any English. Erez was nowhere to be seen. With my limited Hebrew, I tried to explain my purpose and identity. I realized I didn’t even know the word for volunteer, much less the grammar necessary for a proper explanation. I’m a little embarrassed by how deep I had to dig to find only a handful of words and phrases. Eventually, through a combination of Hebrew, English, and a little Spanish, we worked our way to the mention of Erez. Finally, understanding dawned and I breathed a sigh of relief. Mordecai, whom I met at the door, called Erez on the phone. I can only assume he explained everything because everyone volunteering seemed content with my presence from that moment forward.

During my first experience volunteering, the soup kitchen was only offering frozen meals, frozen soup, bread, fruit, and hot broth which could be taken to go according to COVID guidelines. Thankfully Mordecai decided I was competent enough to hand out frozen meals as people came and went. He wasn’t nearly as confident in my ability to comprehend the number of meals each person wanted (although numbers are one of my strengths in Hebrew haha), so he would relay the number from the patron to me in Spanish. It was cute and funny, but also quite understandable. I have begun to notice in situations where I am surrounded by any language beyond English, I default to Hebrew. When my brain recognizes a forgein language, it can only imagine Hebrew words. It feels like Hebrew is even replacing any traces of Spanish I thought I knew. But I digress. The system I observed worked in the following manner. The patrons came in and paid a couple sheklem, around the equivalent of $1. They would get their frozen meal and soup from me and then pick out a bag of fruit and bread. They might have a conversation with Mordecai before heading on their way. There was a wide array of people coming in and out. Men, women, old, middle aged, weary, happy, well kept, haggard, quiet, loud, etc. In between people, Mordecai would read his newspaper or chat with LeeLee, another volunteer. These were the perfect moments for me to review some Hebrew vocabulary, especially since I was acutely aware of the huge gaps in my knowledge. I was so happy I remembered the word for leaving right as it was time head to class. And of course, Erez appeared at that exact moment and I missed my chance for a tour in English haha. However, he encouraged me to come back next week promising the kitchen and dining area would be fully open so everyone could sit down inside and eat a hot meal.

When I arrived the following week, it was almost like starting over again. A man named Israel greeted me, and once again I tried to explain my purpose. If I was wiser, I would have been prepared with a couple more Hebrew phrases and learned from my previous mistakes. Luckily for me, this time there were a few volunteers who did speak some English. There was a very sweet man from Argentina who spoke wonderful English. No matter how many times I assured him I didn’t need anything, he continued to offer me snacks, coffee, and water the entire time I was there. It was wonderful to have the full kitchen and dining room open. People got to sit down, take their time, and have conversations with the people around them if they chose. They received a full tray of food with salad, soup, meat, veggies, and bread.

There was one man specifically who caught my attention. I got the impression that he is nonverbal, he didn’t make a single sound. Even so, he seemed to be in wonderful spirits, and he found ways to tease and joke with the volunteers using exaggerated actions and a wide range of facial expressions. He jostled about, grinning, bumping hellos, and miming laughter. I think all the volunteers knew him quite well. It looked like life hadn’t been the kindest to him, but on this particular day he refused to let it dampen his spirits. Out of everyone I saw, I think he was having the most fun and finding joy despite any of his circumstances. It was beautiful to watch and convicting. I wish each of you could have met him and seen his vibrant personality for yourselves.

I haven’t had the opportunity to go back yet because of my class schedule and the craziness of life, but I have had ample time to reflect. What does it truly mean to love people unconditionally and meet them where they are? I didn’t know anything about any of the people who came to the soup kitchen. But the soup kitchen doesn’t discriminate. Whether the people coming in looked clean and well put together or entirely unkept, no questions were asked. They were simply welcomed in and taken care of. As I was handing out frozen meals and frozen soups, some people would get really picky about the kind of soup and type of meat they wanted from the meal. There were a few moments I caught myself thinking they shouldn’t be so picky; they should be grateful for what they get. Growing up I heard the phrase “beggars can’t be choosers” more times than I can count. I do believe we should be grateful and make the most of what we have. However, each person I saw is just as human as me. This is an obvious fact which I have always believed wholeheartedly. I doubt I could find much disagreement there. But there are some aspects of their humanity which I unfairly took away from them in my mind. Having the freedom to choose the food they do and don’t want from the Soup Kitchen. Afterall, there are foods I don’t like which I would most certainly do not enjoy. I would probably eat the foods I dislike if it were my only option, but I wouldn’t find pleasure in it. Regardless of the circumstances bringing each person to the soup kitchen, they have just as much of a right to choose the types of food they like and don’t like as I do. They don’t deserve whatever I can get them, they deserve the best I can get them. It may seem like a small detail, but it was a preconception I didn’t even realize was there.

To be human is to be human is to be human. The school recently screened a documentary about Paul Farmer and an organization he helped found called Partners in Health (PIH). Paul Farmer passed away unexpectedly this year, a hard hit for the global healthcare community. The documentary is called Bending the Arc, coming from a famous Martin Luther King Jr. quote. “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” It isn’t a documentary for inducing laugh or feeling warm and fuzzy at the end, but its contents are important. I believe it’s on Netflix, and I would highly recommend watching it if you are up for the task. One of the film’s most striking quotes was a comment from a member of PIH. I’m paraphrasing but, “Why do we only talk and argue sustainability when it relates to people in poverty?” The film talks a lot about the treatment of Tuberculosis. In this case specifically multidrug resistant tuberculosis. No one would fund or support treatment of tuberculosis in impoverished places because they claimed it wasn’t sustainable. It was literally against the World Health Policy to treat these patients. They said it couldn’t be done and there was no point in trying, even if someone was able to secure private funding for the required treatment. Since starting medical school I have learned that tuberculosis is a HIGHLY contagious disease and a death sentence without treatment. In the present we can clearly see that is simply craziness and absolute cruelty to not allow treatment of a deadly and spreadable disease, but at that time many people refused to see the error in their perspectives. I have plenty more to say about the movie, but first, watch the documentary on your own. Let me know, I would love to discuss it.

(again a photo off the internet, from the documentary)

In my reflections on the meaning of being human, I was reminded the gravity of the following verse. It can be easy to take it simply as it is, but it is an important reminder to me that should shape the way I love people.

Genesis 1:27 “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them”.

Every single person is created in the image of God. This should impact every interaction I have with people. Each person has deep intrinsic value that can never be taken away, and they deserve to be cared for and treated in a way reflecting this fact. I am discovering personal biases I didn’t know existed within me. It is crucial to self-examine and reflect so I can grow and learn how to love and serve people better. Because people need people, and each human is just as human as I am.

I want to end my reflection with an excerpt from C.S. Lewis’s essay, The Weight of Glory. It’s heavy, but I think it’s important. I hope you take time to read it and think deeply about it as I continue to do.

“Meanwhile the cross comes before the crown and tomorrow is a Monday morning. A cleft has opened in the pitiless walls of the world, and we are invited to follow our great Captain inside. The following Him is, of course, the essential point. That being so, it may be asked what practical use there is in the speculations which I have been indulging. I can think of at least one such use. It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit— immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously—no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner—no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbour he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat—the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.”