Junk for Jesus

I took some time off from writing today to go help out at Clinic Esperanza (I need to go look up the link). There were several boxes of donated clothing piled, no more like haphazardly thrown all over the clinic stoop. Apparently it must have been there for quite some time because the boxes were soggy and falling apart. The clothes were on the "seen better days" side too. There were also several boxes of blankets (hello, this is a Caribbean Island, it is sweltering here) and a bunch of donated shoes as well.

I did mention to Miss Peggy that some *most* of this particular batch of stuff was about a minus 5 on a scale of one to ten. She is the one commented, "Junk for Jesus." UGH.

But it was. It reminded me of when Antonia Ulloa who works at Eastern Mennonite Missions and is from Honduras came and spoke at our church retreat. I remember him talking about donated lime green prom tuxes from the seventies that he really didn't want any more than the person who had donated them. He was very careful to say that he was grateful for the thought, but I think wished just a little more thought went into the donation.

I sorted through clothes and shoes and placed the things on a concrete slab for people to help themselves to. All I could keep thinking was it would only be OK, and even then I wasn't so sure if the people who had shared had as little as the people it was intended to help. But since it came from a cruise ship I doubted that was the case. Again, I don't mean to sound judgmental, but there were several thoughts that went through my mind as I was sorting through these items:

• If it is old, out of style and full of holes, why do you think someone else would want it? How does this make the recipient feel? Where is the dignity of the donation?
• There were several pairs of unmatched shoes. Did they really think a red flat would match a blue pump? Or didn't that matter either?
• Some of the shoes were so worn it was embarrassing to me to think that a fellow citizen of one of the most affluent, consumeristic nations in the country actually gave it away instead of throwing it away, or where we live, sending it the HUF recycling center.
• I couldn't believe how many sweaters there were. Again, hello, it is a tropical country.
• There was mostly men's clothing in this batch and most of it was XXL. The Hondurans aren't obese.
• Some of the things came from one of the cruise lines and included mechanic's jumpsuits, several tux style jackets and an evening gown. Maybe for dress up?
• Three people were interested in my suitcase, which itself was not in the best shape and I needed to keep.

It just made me really, really sad. I was there to help Peggy, but I was really embarrassed to be putting out some of the stuff. Just because someone is poor doesn't mean they don't have dignity. As a matter of fact, I have come to believe that it is all the more reason to give our best. We absolutely need to view these people as Jesus does, with love and compassion. And if we believe we are representing Christ, and engaging in "pure religion" (I know there were widows and orphans there) then how can we give them anything but our best?

Just food for thought