I suppose it would be hard to argue that Christians lack ambition since we're behind some of the most well-known charitable organizations. Compassion International, World Vision, Salvation Army, Samaritan’s Purse, and Catholic Relief Services, to name a few.
That said, I don’t discredit these groups. They provide services that help folks who have been affected by war, poverty, and natural disasters. People willing to give their time and skill for that work is needed. No question.
A question I do pose, though—to those of us fortunate enough to be housed and have support networks—regards the posture taken when we step toward others whose circumstances are different from our own. Are we standing over them without knowing their names, assuming we have what they need, or are we sitting beside them, shoulder-to-shoulder, willing to receive whatever they have to give?
The latter requires slowing down. And moving slowly can feel counterintuitive when there’s stuff to get done. But the Jesus movement is counterintuitive. That’s why God’s kingdom is also called the “upside-down kingdom.” It’s countercultural, nonsensical, and uncomfortably unnatural for us. When we rush, trying to get as much done in one day as possible—we risk missing the wisdom behind Jesus's mission.
Jesus’s mission wasn’t about numbers, just like it wasn’t meant to fit inside human social and cultural paradigms.
Haywood Street chooses not to use the term “volunteer” for this reason. Rather than folks coming to fill an open spot in the dish room, we want folks coming to Haywood Street because they have a hunger for something deeper and more flavorful than what the world provides.
While names are always the priority, we choose to refer to folks who participate in our ministries as companions. This isn't some tactful way to stand out by having a trendy new word for volunteer. The word choice is important to us.
And here’s why—the original, literal meaning of companion was together with bread.
Companions were literally the people you ate with, broke bread with, and sat with at a common table (1). This implies that “strangers and acquaintances become companions through eating together” (1). Sounds a little like the vision of the Downtown Welcome Table, I hope!
In companionship, there’s no hierarchy, no class system, and no us and them. Meals are “the primary means of breaking down relational walls between folks” (1). Every person who sits at the table is a companion. Some may choose to bring the plates or clear the table, but make no mistake, companionship happens when we’re at the table, sitting eye-to-eye together.
So, why are you here? Are you here to volunteer or fill a need?
If the answer is yes, then in love and respect, that’s not why we need you.
We need you at the dinner table because it isn’t complete without your presence. And because we can’t know you or be known by you without sitting eye-to-eye and seeing each other.
Put your apron to the side. Scrap your task list. It’s time to lean in and embrace the ludicrous and unnatural way of living with others we’ve been invited into.
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Emery, Paul. “The Etymology & Theology of Companionship,” https://www.missioalliance.org/with-bread-the-etymology-theology-of-companionship/
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