The Dangerous Duvet

Why are we so obsessed with our own comfort?

I guess in order to be comfortable you have to have some money. Or at least some power. Maybe comfort is just another status symbol?

Or maybe discomfort just sucks. I like my bed. Its not some uber space shuttle bed, but its a heck of a lot more comfy than the floor. But it would be nice to have a sweet down comforter.

I hate being hot. My electric bills are ridiculous because my local climate doesn't allow for much in the way of cold.

I don't like awkward situations, unless I create them on purpose. I usually don't like meeting new people. Its not that I won't like the people, its just that getting to know someone takes effort, and I'm not willing to give up time to do it.

I like lots of square feet in my house. Not because its a status symbol (directly at least) but because it gives me plenty of room to move around.

I hate airplane seats.

I hate gymnasium and stadium bleachers.

I am certainly not calling for any form of extreme asceticism. But I am calling for sacrifice when it benefits others. I am calling for the abandonment of comfort, when our search for comfort oppresses others.

When my love of taco bell oppresses migrant produce workers, its time to abandon my love of double decker taco supremes (why God why?!?).

Again, there is no line. When we start drawing lines is when we get ourselves in trouble. This all must be born out of community. And that isn't easy in a world where technology has created a very weak "global community' that has replaced any sense of true community that still existed.

I sat for hours with a couple that is in my community group. We talked about community, and specifically the churches role in community. I live about half an hour away from them, however, the husband knew that he could call me at 4 o'clock and ask for a ride home from the airport (which I currently live near) and that I would be more than willing to do it. I also knew that when we got home (after stopping at the local pub and grille) that I would be invited in for some more food and good conversation. This couple has opened up their home for our community group every monday night. Not just even that, but they also cook a meal for us (us being up to 25 people sometimes).

They have only been married for maybe 6 months now. That is community, when newlyweds are still willing to spend time with others. Its community when the walls break down, when what we want becomes less important. Its community when love supercedes comfort and convenience.

So how does community happen?

If its intentional, is it really community? Does community just happen on its own?

I think maybe its a little of both. It sure is easy to love people who love us. What about those that don't?

It has something to do with identification, with empathy. I guess we really don't know other people. And now I'm getting all philosophical but really, we don't.

All we can know is our own experiences. So we don't understand other people when we can't link their behavior with some feeling we've had in the past. I can't understand a persons life when the are on crack. I can empathize some because I've had my addictions that I could not/did not control. But I haven't ever lived on the street. I haven't ever really been hungry. My friend explained hunger well yesterday. He said we don't really know hunger, because any hunger we feel, we know we can end with our abundance of food. Real hunger is when our stomach aches, and we know there is no hope of food.

I have never felt that, real hunger.

So how do we identify and empathize with those who aren't like us at all? I guess for me, a huge part of community is sharing life. We share victories and struggles. We share joy and mourning. We share emotions and exeriences. Then we can empathize. So when I say I can't empathize with a homeless guy, I'm saying I haven't spent time with him, I haven't cared about him. I'm saying I am not willing to leave my comfort to love him.

How terrible is that? Yet I say it daily.

I finally understand the scriptures about struggling and giving up your life and about love.

How can I have lived so long, and so poorly with such a backwards view of this?