Effective Compassion

Amy Sherman from the July 1998 issue

(Page 2 of 3)

Additionally, the "Charitable Choice" provisions of welfare reform make possible increased funding for faith-based Josephs who want to expand their outreach without compromising their religious character. "Charitable Choice" permits faith-based organizations to discriminate on the basis of religion in their hiring; to constitute their boards of directors without government interference; and to retain a "religious atmosphere" (i.e., to have religious art work and symbols) in their facilities.

Woodson wants to see the Josephs more respected and better funded, and he believes this will happen if we "use the principles that drive our market economy to guide our approach to societal challenges." The marketplace allows different groups to compete and rewards the group with the best outcomes. Woodson argues that the Josephs have the best success rates and, therefore, private and public resources should be directed their way.

But a serious word of caution is appropriate. Part of the reason for the Josephs' success is their personal approach, which could be compromised if individual Josephs try to do too much. We should focus most of our efforts on replicating and multiplying effective Joseph models, rather than pumping enormous sums into current Josephs and perhaps unwittingly undermining them with our largess.

Woodson seems aware of this danger; he is careful to distinguish the grassroots Josephs from the large, well-funded, impersonal, "religious" charities that are sometimes indistinguishable from their government counterparts in method and ideology. Unlike true Josephs, these organizations are religious only in name; their faith--and the commitment it inspires--does not drive and shape them.

This insight highlights the importance of scrutinizing "faith-based ministries" while they are being indiscriminately lauded by politicians and the media. The healing that Woodson has witnessed emerges from Josephs whose faith emphasizes objective, knowable truth and immutable standards of right and wrong. This is the faith Woodson has seen "work."

In our postmodern culture, though, what's acceptable is a "spirituality" which believes that all spiritual journeys are equally valid and that everyone is free to get in touch with the higher power that best meets his/her needs. Effective Josephs reject this vague spirituality, believing it impotent for effecting deep internal transformations that set people on a healthy, constructive course.

Josephs assert that people must be accountable to objective standards of right and wrong, not just fashion their own subjective moral code. Submitting to an authoritative moral law--whether proclaimed by Muslims or Jews or Christians --provides people with firm guideposts around which to order their lives.

Secular social programs which, like the Josephs, emphasize personal responsibility, self-control, delayed gratification, and discipline can also get good results. But it's the faith-based groups that have succeeded with the worst cases, with "irredeemable" individuals who have participated in vain in multiple secular programs. As one former drug addict told Sen. Dan Coats (R-Ind.), "Those [secular] programs take addictions from you, but don't place anything within you. I needed a spiritual lifting."

But Woodson clearly wants even those who do not share the Josephs' religious values to share his enthusiasm for their practical results. He advocates creative partnerships between the Josephs and businesses. Businesses can gain from such collaboration, he argues, because they need reliable workers and insiders' information about neighborhoods, and Josephs can supply both.

Woodson also outlines new guidelines for cooperation between philanthropists and Josephs. He supports Marvin Olasky's "effective compassion"--replacing distant, bureaucratic, indiscriminate charity with personalized, privatized services to the poor--but says it doesn't go far enough. "Effective compassion" is flawed to the extent that it relies on outsiders to come in and rescue the poor. Woodson wants the charitably inclined to enter communities as Joseph supporters, not as rescuers who view residents as passive beneficiaries of their programs.

This good counsel emerges out of the sad reality that some resource-rich outsiders have been patronizing despite their good intentions and have even sometimes undermined the effective, if modest, work of inner-city Josephs. But Woodson's caution should not be taken so far as to ignore the important role being played by what we might call inner-city "Nehemiahs."

Wise and compassionate, Nehemiah inquired into the welfare of the Jerusa-lemites while he was living far away from them. Upon hearing of their distress and of the deplorable condition of the city wall, Nehemiah wept, decided to become personally involved in the restoration of the wall, and journeyed to Jerusalem.

Once there, he personally examined the wall and then began forging friendships with Jerusalem's leaders, encouraging them to come together to rebuild the wall. He then invited everyone to participate in the great project--the skilled and the unskilled, men and women, the wealthy and the commoners. Like Woodson's Josephs, current-day Nehemiahs get up close and personal with the people they serve and identify with the community. They see the assets of the neighborhood and not just its needs. They invite residents to participate in the design, implementation, and evaluation of community improvement efforts. They insist on personal responsibility, and they enter distressed communities with a willingness to learn as well as teach.

"Brother Bob" Mathieu is a Nehemiah. A white Pentecostal preacher, Mathieu moved into inner-city Washington, D.C., in 1971 and immediately sought out black evangelical leaders in the area, admitting that he was eager to help but needed advice. Since then his D.D. Christian Ministries has helped hundreds of kids eschew drugs and stay in school.

Similarly, Wayne Gordon, a middle-class white guy from the Midwest, launched Lawndale Community Church in inner-city Chicago over 23 years ago. He began by coaching at the local high school and studying the Bible with young black men in the neighborhood. Since that modest beginning, Gordon and the Josephs he's helped to raise have transformed several city blocks. Within spitting distance of the church now stand the Lawndale Community Development Corporation, which renovates homes and capitalizes small businesses, and the Lawndale Community Health Clinic, which serves 4,000 patients each month. The church also runs an after-school tutoring program, a college opportunity program, a Christian counseling center, and a job training program.