Finally, A Real Plan for Helping the Poor

5 Do not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, 2 older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity.

3 Honor widows who are truly widows. 4 But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God. 5 She who is truly a widow, left all alone, has set her hope on God and continues in supplications and prayers night and day, 6 but she who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives. 7 Command these things as well, so that they may be without reproach. 8 But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

9 Let a widow be enrolled if she is not less than sixty years of age, having been the wife of one husband, 10 and having a reputation for good works: if she has brought up children, has shown hospitality, has washed the feet of the saints, has cared for the afflicted, and has devoted herself to every good work. 11 But refuse to enroll younger widows, for when their passions draw them away from Christ, they desire to marry 12 and so incur condemnation for having abandoned their former faith. 13 Besides that, they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not. 14 So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander. 15 For some have already strayed after Satan. 16 If any believing woman has relatives who are widows, let her care for them. Let the church not be burdened, so that it may care for those who are truly widows. — 1 Timothy 5:1–16.

As we pivot toward the holiday season, we are also entering the giving season.

It is God’s good timing to have us in this passage at this time.

There is no other passage in the New Testament like this. Meaning, here is a real program for addressing the problem of poverty in rather fine detail.

We need only understand that widowhood is being presented as a specific cause of poverty. Her provider and protector has departed. She is now in a vulnerable position. She could lack what she needs.

So we can look at this passage as having a significant range of application. If someone is poor, and appearing to require the help of the church, we have in this passage, a kind of program, that has delivered a perfect union of the theological with the practical.

For instance, here we learn that poverty does not cause someone to stop sinning.
And we learn that meeting someone’s needs does not stop them from sinning.
And we also see, by the very nature of the passage that the leadership of the church is meant to steward funds given to the church by its members. 1:1 giving is great. But it is not the pattern of the New Testament. Going back to Barnabas selling his field, and giving his money to the apostles, we see a pattern of a common purse for the purpose of caring for the poor.

We should be very grateful for a passage like this. There are many passages telling us to care for the poor but not many telling us how. Not many taking a serious look at the complexities involved and offering sophisticated solutions.

But God in his good wisdom has not set us up to fail. Nor has he set us up to walk around with a kind of abstract nebulous guilt that we “aren’t doing enough.” His word really is sufficient. It really does equip us for every good work.

Now before we go further into the text — I want to take a stab at defining poverty itself.

Defining Poverty…

There are three possible definitions of poverty.

Having less than everyone else.
Having less than what you want.
Having less than what you need.

Now we can see that the first two definitions will not work. They are both built on coveting. They are both subject to the darkened heart’s own subjective feelings. The third definition of poverty — is the right one. It is more objective.

People need basic things in order to survive. If they have less than that, they should be classified as poor.

I. We Must Act

Firstly, we see that doing nothing for the poor in our midst is so unthinkable as to not even warrant discussion . You will see many instructions about how to care for widows. But you will not see a moment of wondering if we should care for them at all.

That part is assumed. The church must care for the poor in its midst. This is an essential aspect of the Christian faith.

I have been reading through Isaiah.

One of the overarching themes of the book of Isaiah is that the people of Israel had kept their religion but abandoned their God. There was a general form of godliness but all of the affection for the Lord had gone missing. And one of the great evidences of this was their attitude toward the poor in their midst.

You likely know the verse coming from Isaiah 1:18

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:

though your sins are like scarlet,

they shall be as white as snow;

though they are red like crimson,

they shall become like wool.

When God says their sins are like scarlet — He has specific sins in mind which he had just told them about in the previous two verses:

Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.

They had become indifferent to the poor in their midst. This was the mark of a people destined to judgment. This was the mark of a people who had kept their religion but abandoned their god.

The assumption is that we must do something. The teaching is based on this assumption. Now what must we do?

II. We Must Act Discerningly

We must obey the Bible. We must not be led by the poor, or by the elitist who claims to speak for the poor. We must serve the poor by submitting to the Bible.

Generosity without guardrails is damaging to the giver (both emotionally and financially).
Generosity without guardrails is damaging to the recipient.

As I was dealing with this concept, I remembered a few sayings written in the Didache. What is the Didache? The Didache is a set of teachings on the Christian life that date all the way back to the first century.

It is well worth your time. This is one of the best glimpses we have into what we might call very primitive Christianity.

For our purposes I want to draw your attention to some of the teachings related to generosity and the discernment or guardrails that had already evolved in the early church.

Firstly, we have the following statement rather early on in the document:

Woe to him who receives. If a needy man receives charity, he is blameless, but anyone is not in need will be called to account for why he accepted it. And being imprisoned, he will be interrogated concerning his actions, and he will not be released until he has repaid every last penny.

And later on,

Receive everyone who comes in the name of the Lord. Examine him and learn the nature of his situation. If he is only passing through, help him as much as you can, but he must not stay with you more than two or three days.

If he wishes to settle with you and knows a trade, let him work and earn his bread. If he does not know a trade, use your judgment to decide how he should live as a Christian among you, but not in idleness. If he will not do this, he is trafficking upon Christ. Beware of such men.

When it comes to someone in need, “examine him and learn the nature of his situation.”

And this is what we see Paul doing.

He does not say, “A widow? Well poor girl! Let us throw open the treasury and give unlimited compassion!”

Rather Paul says… A widow? Are you sure? Is she really a widow? (Apparently we’re not to “believe all widows.”) A widow? What kind? What are the details? Is she young? Does she have a family? Is she older? Does she have a track-record of godliness?

Each of these cases must be handled differently. And this is because of point 3 —

III. We Must Act Curatively

There are generally two approaches to poverty. Palliative and curative.

Palliative — what does that word mean? It comes from the latin word for cloak or cover. When in medicine we speak of palliative care, we mean symptom management. Very often pain management at the end of life. The aim here is to treat the symptoms. To cover them up — often with medication.

The Palliative approach to care is to meet the existing need and look no further into the deeper cause.

The other approach is curative. And I trust you get a sense of what that implies. In contrast to a palliative approach to poverty, a curative approach looks not at the symptoms of lack, but at the deeper issue, the deeper condition which causes the lack in the first place.

What Paul is prescribing here is the curative approach.

A woman has lost her husband. She has lost her companion. She has lost her protector. She has lost her provider.

What should be done? What is the curative approach?

Well it depends on the particulars of each widow’s situation.

Now let us turn to applying these concepts to the greater issue of poverty in general.

There are some symptoms that seem to be nearly universal to all diseases. Lethargy. Headaches. So on. A headache could be the symptom of hundreds of different diseases.

Poverty is just a headache which has many possible causes.

Taking a curative approach to an individual’s poverty requires we look deeper into the situation and discern the deeper issues.

One person might have a headache because they are dehydrated. To fix the problem, they need to drink more water.

Another person might have a headache because of a stressful day. Fixing that problem means going to bed early.

Another person might have a headache because they have malaria. So we treat that issue.

But if you are taking a palliative approach, you give them all aspirin. And send them home until they run out of the aspirin you have provided and then they are back at your door.

Now in poverty, as in medicine, there are plenty of people who just want the drug. They just want relief from a particular symptom. But if the doctor or the church says, “we don’t do that here. We have a curative approach. Then you will see your waiting room rapidly depopulate.”

The first thing we can see is that by insisting on curative approaches rather than palliative ones, we are going to lose many people who only want palliative care. In order to deliver the cure, the church must get to know the individual and as the Didache says, “examine them and learn the nature of their situation.”

IV. We Must Act Relationally

Just as widows enter poverty through the break in a relationship (involuntary) so many people experiencing poverty are in that situation because they have a long track record of running away from relationships in which they are known and held accountable.

In his book When Helping Hurts, author author Steve Corbett writes — “Poverty is the result of relationships that do not work, that are not just, that are not for life, that are not harmonious or enjoyable. Poverty is the absence of shalom in all its meanings.”

Curative care for the poor always involves bringing them back into the blessings of Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

9 Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. 10 For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! 11 Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? 12 And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken.

But you can not force a person into partnership. You cannot force a person into relationship. It is important to understand that Paul’s policies are going to require the widows to go along with the program.

He wants younger widows to remarry.

He wants older widows to form a dependent relationship with their existing families (assuming they have one).

And both of these groups are free to say, “no thank you, I was looking for palliative care, not curative care. I do not like the conditions you have placed on me.”

And you can bet that when these sorts of conditions are placed on the unwilling, they will almost always blame the church for being unloving.

But it is just the opposite. The title of that book I referenced is spot on. There are many times when helping hurts.

Take the example of the widow who has a family. Suppose the church swoops in and cares for her and allows her family to remain on the sidelines. Well, the judgment of God still rests on that family.

Look at vs. 8 — But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

Oh but you see, the relationship is strained. Yes, and that is the real cause of the poverty. And we insist on dealing with that very issue.

If we need to have a sit-down with the parties involved and facilitate confession of sin and forgiveness and so forth, then we will do that.

If we rush to offer palliative care — the woman has gained a meal. If we take the careful, slower, less efficient route of curative care — the woman has gained a family.

As tragic as a death of a husband is, it could be the very thing that brings healing to an entire family. What the enemy has intended for evil, God has meant for good.

Or suppose the widow is younger. What is the cure? She should get remarried.

11 But refuse to enroll younger widows, for when their passions draw them away from Christ, they desire to marry 12 and so incur condemnation for having abandoned their former faith. 13 Besides that, they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not. 14 So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander. 15 For some have already strayed after Satan.

Here’s another great principle for you. And I’ve worked into a poem so that you can remember it:

Being young and on the dole is very dangerous to your soul.

Now, if you listen closely, you can hear the sirens of the empathy police barreling down Lenexa Dr. Haven’t these women suffered enough? Now you’re going to make them jump through hoops? You’re going to put extra burdens on an already burdened person?

Yes.

The church of Jesus Christ is not a pain-clinic. Nor is it a hospice. We do something no other agency or institution can do. We introduce people to Jesus Christ. We help them see this life was never mostly about safety, comfort, or mere pain relief. It is all an adventure — and it is an adventure with the living Christ.

Now I cannot possibly explain what I’m getting at without consulting a short passage from CS Lewis’ “A Horse and his Boy.”

Shasta is a boy who was kidnapped as an infant. And made to live in a very difficult and stern situation. He eventually gets up enough courage to run away from that dark situation but in the process, faces many hardships.

He is riding his horse through the dark, and a very dense, black fog is surrounding him. So thick that he cannot even see the head the horse he is riding.

And being very tired and having nothing inside him, (Shasta) felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks. What put a stop to all of this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale, and Shasta got the impression that it was a very large creature. And he had come to notice this breathing so gradually that he had really no idea how long it had been there. It was a horrible shock. It darted into his mind that he had heard long ago that there were giants in these Northern countries. He bit his lip in terror. But now that he really had something to cry about, he stopped crying.

At last he could bear it no longer.

“Who are you?” he said, barely above a whisper.

“One who has waited long for you to speak,” said the Thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep.

“Are you – are you a giant?” asked Shasta.

“You might call me a giant,” said the Large Voice. “But I am not like the creatures you call giants.”

“I can’t see you at all,” said Shasta, after staring very hard. Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, “You’re not – not something dead, are you? Oh please – please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world.”

Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face. “There,” it said, “that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.”

Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. and then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the Tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since had had anything to eat.

“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice.

And there is some dialogue here where the Large Voice helps Shasta to see that He had been by his side all along. Even in the great difficulties he had faced.

“Who are you?” asked Shasta.

“Myself,” said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again “Myself,” loud and clear and gay: and then the third time “Myself,” whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all around you as if the leaves rustled with it.

Shasta was no longer afraid that the Voice belonged to something that would eat him, nor that it was the voice of a ghost. But a new and different sort of trembling came over him. Yet he felt glad too.

After one glance at the Lion’s face he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn’t say anything but then he didn’t want to say anything, and he knew he needn’t say anything.

The High King above all kings stooped towards him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the manhe, was all around him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly the pale brightness of the mist and the feiry brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and disappeared. He was alone with horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing.