The Goodness of Privilege

The word privileged is thrown around a lot. So much so that we who see the manipulation behind its overuse can easily forget how privileged we are and our duty to those whom God has given us as our charges.

“If the goods of earth are extensions of my person and if I love my neighbor as myself, I naturally share my good things. It is idle for me to proclaim concern for the poor, the homeless, for example, and at the same time indulge in elegant dining and drinking, pleasure traveling, and an extensive wardrobe. My life belies my rhetoric...We share with the needy to the point of a harsh equality. If I am to love my fellow man as myself, it must follow that I desire that his needs to be cared for at least as well as I care for mine. To desire otherwise is not to love him as I love myself…one of the key traits of the ideal Church is that the disciples share all things in common… Material sharing is an extension of inner love…To say that I love another and then refuse to share to the extent of this rough equality is mere rhetoric...You are not making a gift of your possessions to the poor person. You are handing over to him what is his.” - Happy Are You Poor by Fr. Thomas Dubay

I imagine a woman holding her dying child in her arms. Dying because she had no food, water, or access to medicine. The child is emaciated, his head hangs back over her arm, eyes blank, mouth agape. She sits on the side of a highway where Mercedes, Maseratis, Hondas, and Fords whisk by with complete disregard. My Honda is one of them.

I pass her at nearly 80 mph, getting anywhere I need to go in a short time. She had to walk here, to where the wealthiest of the wealthy pass by, hoping just one would take pity on her and her dying child. But I do not stop, nor do any other passersby.

I pull up to my reserved parking space at my townhouse apartment. Two levels with a fireplace and balcony. Enough room for at least ten other people from her large family to live if we lived as this woman and her dying child do. My balcony could sleep four people comfortably on cots with blankets. My refrigerator could feed her entire family for a week, and the food in the cabinets could feed them for another week. But I share neither with her nor her hungry baby.

Tomorrow I will drive to work at noon and work until 8, doing hair for people who, by this woman’s standards, are very wealthy. I will not break a sweat or come into contact with any dirt. No physical strain to get my paycheck. In between clients, I will sit and read, pray, and check email on my iPhone. I will see stories about the suffering of others, like this woman and her child, shed a tear or two, and then return to my privileged life.

After work, I will drive home with the windows down, a cool breeze in my face, on paved streets lined with shops selling non-essentials. I will hear beeps because someone isn’t driving their $60,000 car fast enough or too fast. I will hear people complaining on the phone because their Amazon package of non-essentials hasn’t been left at the desk of their secured apartment building.

I will go on Facebook when I get home to see people complaining that, in the move from one large house to another, their favorite table got dinged and they intend to put up a bad review of the shipper in hopes the company will give their privileged behind something for free or a discount.

As I do all this, the woman’s baby will die in her arms, and no one will notice. She will cry out in despair, and we will roll our windows up so the noise doesn’t interrupt us listening to the podcast from our pastor about poverty.

Privilege is being used to make people feel guilty, and in some cases it works, but in many it doesn’t and has the opposite effect. It hardens the hearts of those the word is targeted toward, rather than softening them. That, in my opinion, may be because we don’t recognize the good in our privilege.

We hear the word, and we feel shame. There is nothing to be ashamed of. God blessed us all in different ways. Those of us blessed with material wealth are given that gift so we can help others. The guilty feelings come from knowing we can do more than we are doing. So let us shed the guilt by giving more, not by acting like we aren’t privileged. And when I say give, I mean materially.

We are comfortable with giving our time or attention. I’ll sit and talk with a poor person, serve them food that someone else paid for, but give of my own material wealth...mmm...not so much.

I can help so many with all the extra God has given me, living in my apartment in Bethesda, MD, driving my Honda Civic, and working my relatively stress-free job. If I am willing to let down my defenses that blind me to the truth, I can see that God has blessed me with an overabundance, not so I can hoard it away. Not so I can waste it. But so I can share it. So He can help others through me.

Many ask why God doesn’t help these people. My answer: because we, in our selfishness, won’t let Him. So let us stop asking why and start giving what we can.

Human-Written, AI Spell-Checked 5/17/21 AD

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