My brother, David, is three years my elder. My namesake was the best friend to King David, as our names were to define our relationship. And growing up, it did. Like the biblical David and Jonathan in the Bible, my brother and I shared much of our lives. We inhabited the same bedroom, even sleeping on bunk beds for a while. We collected baseball cards. We climbed the cherry tree in our backyard. We delivered papers together on our matching Schwinn Heavy-Duty bicycles. An open game of Monopoly was set up as we kept a continuous game moving forward. (On a side note, I never beat him, but I always owned Park Place and Boardwalk, the only property I wanted to own, which may explain why I never beat him.) We played baseball, basketball, and whiffle ball. Playing basketball in the backyard is where David figured out how to level the playing field.
The patio in our backyard was a perfect spot for either one-on-one or two-on-two basketball. The uniqueness of the court was the patio roof, which was some eleven to twelve feet high, allowing the backboard to be securely snugged between the porch roof and the patio ceiling. It also meant shooting outside shots took a lot of skill, because we had no room for an arch. On the plus side, the rim was just over eight feet which made for some good slam dunks when we were teens. David, on the other hand, being older and bigger than me, simply backed me down under the hoop for an easy hook shot or layup.
We loved playing together, but David had the upper hand. He took complete advantage of his size, and rightly so. But let’s be honest, neither one of us had a fun time, especially me. So he develop a game in order to level the playing field. The rules were simple. The score is tied with twenty-four seconds left in the game. We have a five second shot clock. David was in charge of keeping the “game clock,” and I was in charge of the “shot clock.” After every dead ball, he reiterated how much time was left in “the game.” Amazingly, his idea worked. He didn’t have time to back me down as he had to put up a quick shot. I, on the other hand, had a fighting chance to score. If my memory serves me right, we generally split the series, making his idea a success. The playing field was leveled.
As much as we want to believe that everyone stands on equal footing to succeed at life, the truth is far from reality. The playing field is hardly level. Some people have an easier time navigating life than others, the reasons are varied and often complex. For instance, while I have been blessed with a lifelong foundation of academic studies – I attended private, strong academic schools – I struggled with my grades. If I was in school today, they would diagnose me with ADHD, instead of just telling me to work harder. “Work harder” was my advice on academic success. Growing up my reading, reading-comprehension, math skills, and recall were always behind the curve. Even today, as much as I love to read, I’m still far slower than most people who hold the same passion. I found myself muddling through school while my classmates thrived. Academics were far from a level playing field, at least for me.
Those who teach will confirm that so many factors come into play which determine the success children have at school. Home life is one of those factors. A child returning home to parents who are engaged, helpful, and encouraging their children to learn have an advantage over a child going home to parents disengaged, absent, or talks despairingly about the school, teacher, or learning in general. Never mind how poverty, race, or the impact of the opioid crisis has had on family life and its link to our educational system. No, the playing field is anything but level.
A few years ago I listened to a speaker share his experience visiting an inmate at a state penitentiary. As he drove through the poorer section of the city in route to the penitentiary, he noticed an old abandoned school, boarded up. Driving further, he saw another school fallen into disarray. Before reaching his destination he discovered a third school facing the same deterioration. He inquired about their status only to be told that the three schools could no longer be funded so they were consolidated. “Oh, did they build a new school?” he probed with hope. “No,” he was told, “they were now meeting in the one school building that was still deemed habitable.” No future plans were made to build a new school, as the county lacked the funds. Soon, their car turned toward the prison. He described it as a brand new, state-of-the-art, multi-million dollar facility with all the bells and whistles appropriately. The correlation and causation were intertwined. No funds were available to invest in education, but plenty of funds to incarcerate uneducated people suffering from a broken system and uneven playing field.
The inequality experience reaches beyond education. Statistics bear out that males make more money than females, while performing the same job. Minorities make even less money when comparing them to those who make up the majority. We saw this over the past few years. As we endured COVID it became clear that everyone was facing the same storm, but not everyone was in the same boat. The playing field is anything but level.
Paul was very aware that the playing field in Palestine was un-evened. Back in Acts 11 a prophet named Agabus foretold that a severe famine was striking the region with devastating effects (Act. 11:27-28). While Luke tells us little of the famine or its impact on the region, information on Paul’s response to the famine is clear. Paul refused to turn the suffering into a judgmental sentencing by God through sermons. Instead he solicited help. Every church throughout Asia-Minor was asked to participate. He appealed to them to collect financial aid as relief to send to those distressed under the devastation.
Paul’s move to collect funds for the churches in and around Jerusalem served two purposes. First, Paul hoped the gesture by the Asia-Minor churches might help bridge the racial gap between the Jew and Gentile believers. Churches in Asia-Minor were predominantly Gentile in nature. Churches in Jerusalem and the surrounding vicinity were, as expected, comprised of Jewish Christians. The Jews had a built-in suspect of Gentile Christians because they ignore key doctrinal issues dear to the heart of the Jews. They rejected circumcision, refused to celebrate holy days like Passover, and ate unclean foods like pork. Paul very likely believed that Gentile churches, collecting funds to help their brothers and sisters in Christ whom they have never met but felt the estrangement, might bring the two groups together. Might. While we don’t know how well the collection helped bridge the gap, it’s not hard not to imagine that the gift helped move the needle some.
Secondly, Paul explicitly says that the collected gift was a means to financially level the playing field. Drawing from the Exodus story, the Israelites woke up every morning to find the ground covered with the wafer God had provided. All they had to do was go out to pick up what their family needed. Quoting from Exodus, Paul notes, “Those who collected much did not have too much, and those who collected little did not have too little” (Ex. 16:18; 2 Cor. 8:15). God provided equality as everybody had as much as they needed.
Like today, the first century society was comprised of the “haves” and “have-nots.” Balancing the scales among the believers means that the “haves” share with the “have-nots,” so that those who have, can share with those who do not have, in order that all will have some (2 Cor. 8:13). The goal is equality. By being people who are willing to share, we act as a buffer between us and society, a society that wants to keep the playing field disproportionally un-leveled so that those in power can keep their position of power. In our generosity, we help seek equality among the people we encounter.
And the beauty of such generosity is like bread upon the water. Somehow, what is cast upon the water always tends to come back. Always.
I once saw a video of homeless people engaging each other, almost like it was a study in human interaction. A man, pretending to be homeless, approached a number of business people having lunch. The actor tried telling his sad story and how hungry he was only to be turned away by each individual. Later, the actor struck up a conversation with a homeless man, sharing his sad mock story. He casually dropped the detail that he had not eating in four days and was very hungry. They parted ways and he went down the street to sit in a corner to wait out time. Not long afterward, a man arrived with a pizza for the elderly homeless man. Granted, the homeless man was not panhandling, but just sitting looking disheveled. The homeless man graciously, and with great gratitude, thanked the man for the pizza. Then he stood up and walked down the street to find the man pretending to be homeless. He sat next to the man and shared his meal, and not only with him, but with the other homeless as well. In his own little way, that homeless man was leveling the playing field, at least for the moment.
What my twelve-year old brother realized was that life is not fair, but instead of being satisfied with the unfair moment, he stepped in to create a sense of fairness. He brought equity where there was parody. He balanced the terms so that equality was established. It’s what Paul was hoping by collecting aid to send to the believers in Jerusalem during their deadly famine. And when we walk into patient’s homes, we do the same thing.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)