Recent experience has reminded me again of a difficult issue. The issue is independence. And how independence intersects with community. Americans, and perhaps westerners in general, value independence. We expect people to “pull their own weight” – to “contribute to society”. And there is merit in that, dignity even. Of course, we make exceptions. We make exceptions for the very young, the disabled, and sometimes for the elderly.

We also make exceptions for the healthy. Sometimes these exceptions are damaging and symptomatic of unhealthy relationships. The fashionable term for these exceptions is “co-dependency”. My point here is not to define this term or explain how to identify when relationships are unhealthy, but rather to note that there are dependency relationships that are unhealthy, and in what I write I am not intending to defend these. It is also my point to say that there are many types of dependency that are healthy, rewarding, and integral to healthy family and community relationships. I am dependent on my wife for many things; I love her and I love our relationship. I would not describe our dependence upon one another as unhealthy or undesirable. It is mutual and good for us both.

The difficult issue is that there are many members of our communities that are deeply dependent on others to live a reasonably healthy and constructive life. This is particularly true in urban areas of Long Beach where there are many group homes and sober-living homes. Many people are dependent in ways that are exceptional or even demanding – sometimes very demanding. This dependency is not balanced. That is, if I am engaged in a relationship with one of these people, I apparently have to give much more than I can ever hope to receive in return. When this imbalance becomes too pronounced or “unprofitable”, it seems that human nature is to cut the relationship off. It’s too much trouble.

Let me give an example or two. There are people with emotional or mental health issues that are very difficult. They are in some way “out of control.” They have difficulty with normal life choices. They are a drain on family and acquaintances. In our ministry at LBFC, we encounter many marginalized people, often homeless, who might meet this description. (Note that word: “marginalized”!) These days, reaching out to the homeless and otherwise needy is “in”. The pattern usually goes like this. A person wants to get involved. They reach out. They discover that a relationship with the person to whom they are reaching out is costly, particularly in time and emotional resources. The first instinct is to work with the person to help them get treatment or training that will enable them to become more self-sufficient. There is a flurry of activity as the marginalized person finds someone who will pay attention to them. This flurry of activity gradually dies down as the well-meaning one who is reaching out concludes either (1) “this person is never going to be independent and I am in over my head!” or (2) “it is going to take a long time and a lot of effort to sort through the problems in this person’s life”. Discouragement sets in. Expectations go unmet on both sides of the relationship, and it fades or crashes.

The (non)solution that our society has adopted is to institutionalize relationships that the “normal” members of society find inconvenient. Mental illness. Homelessness. Unemployment. Criminals. Too often we pay people to keep them from disturbing the rest of us. For good reasons, one of the goals of these institutional relationships is to help the inconvenient person to at least become able to live “on their own” and to function as a “normal” part of society as much as possible. One possible advantage to this is that institutional relationships can be professionalized. Sometimes there are real advantages in this, but I question whether professionalized relationships can ever replace authentic community. (There are institutions that are making a valiant effort at this, with some success. But ask them about budget…)

I also question if professionals can devote the time needed to each relationship. While I’m not the person with the most capacity for this, I can say that I find these relationships very draining. It is hard to manage more than a very few of them at a time, and I need support for even that. Most professionals I know have a case load that leaves minutes per week for each inconvenient relationship. It is possible to make trade-offs and increase here and decrease there, and sometimes effort is valiant. However, if it takes a village to raise a child, how many does it take to “raise” one of these inconvenient ones? What if they don’t show up when scheduled and must be pursued?

It seems to me that there are more than a few people in our society who will never really be “independent” in the way that we hope everyone can be. There are others who can be, but the relational cost to get there will be very high – effort measured in man-years. Our society is generally not willing to foot this kind of cost when it comes to paying professionals. I’m not convinced that it should, if this is a way to avoid personal responsibility for inconvenient community. Whatever you did for the least of these…

In a talk from a recent TED conference, Nicholas Christakis discussed social networks. He ends his talk with “social networks are fundamentally related to goodness, and what the world needs now is more connections”. And that’s just for us regular folks. Where is the church – where are Christians – when there is so much need for community? Where am I?

Many of us live in neighborhoods where the inconvenient are not allowed. NIMBY. In my uncharitable moments I think these should be called “goat neighborhoods”. Goaterhoods? (Is this griping? Or prophetic? Perhaps some of both.) Sometimes it just gets to be too dark for me. I’m looking at the problem, and not lifting my eyes to the Giver of hope and strength.

The cost of community is high. It is not convenient. Giving is, well… giving. And yet, the act of loving others is ultimately life-giving. It changes me. It breaks me. It’s a kind of death. I don’t always like it… Let me rephrase. I don’t like it when I am called to love others… again, and again, and again… seemingly without end. I need breaks. I have to get away and re-charge. Will it always be this way?

I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives. Those who love their life in this world will lose it. Those who care nothing for their life in this world will keep it for eternity. Anyone who wants to be my disciple must follow me, because my servants must be where I am. And the Father will honor anyone who serves me.