Christmas Charity Gone Bad

DD didn’t even know which Grand Rapids charity or church it was. He only knew that they brought gifts to his house every Christmas. As his mother invited the strangers delivering the toys into her house, she thanked them with many hugs and tears. Then, while the toy deliverers were present, she placed the gifts under the tree. The volunteers left the house thinking they had fulfilled the hopes and dreams of another needy family at Christmas when their generosity and kindness had actually contributed to a recurring nightmare.

For the next several days, he and his younger siblings wondered, is this the year their mother finally allowed them to open and hold onto their presents? Then, a few days before Christmas arrived, DD and his younger brothers and sisters had to face reality again. While they were sleeping, their mother gathered the Christmas presents from under the tree, unwrapped the toys, and made her way to the pawn shop, or if the store tag was present, to the retailer from where it came. Once she had the money in hand, she hastened to the drug house, where she smoked all of it on crack. The toys given to her children had become extra income to pay for her drug habit.

DD, now grown up into a man and well into his thirties, confesses that his childhood memories of Christmas have inflicted more pain than joy. As a former gang member, it’s been easier for him to wrestle through the grief and sorrow of losing several friends to the violence of the streets than to relive his childhood trauma with shattered hopes and dreams every Christmas.

Let me reassure you that most needy families in our neighborhood are not led by a crack-addicted mother or father. Yet here’s the problem. This well-intentioned charitable group had unknowingly made things worse—not because they attempted to show compassion to impoverished kids in our urban neighborhood, but because they had no real relationship with a family they were showering gifts upon. I would like to believe this tragic unintended consequence is the exception rather than the rule among churches and charities, especially around the holiday season. But I’m left to wonder.

I wonder because I know my heart and motivations, and I’ve had many conversations with other non-profit colleagues to see that they struggle, too. As the primary fundraiser for Urban Transformation Ministries (UTM), here is my temptation. The more people I can show that we’re serving or helping, the more I can impress donors, leading to more funding. So I’m lured into cutting corners to inflate the numbers, which almost always leads to less time forming relationships with those we serve. The less time UTM staff and volunteers spend cultivating these relationships, the less likely we follow the Biblical model of compassion.

In Scripture, compassion means “to suffer with.” Yet how can we “suffer-with” the poor and marginalized in our communities unless we have a real relationship with them? I can’t have a relationship with the poor unless I walk alongside them for an extended time, getting to know the ins and outs of their situation that led them to their poverty. And more often than not, it’s a hot-mess composite of structural injustices, unfortunate circumstances, and poor choices made in a stressful, survival-like environment.

These “walk-alongside” relationships are vital in helping the poor obtain the skills and resources necessary to break the poverty cycle so they can enjoy the dignity of providing for themselves and their families. These same relationships are essential as we share the hope found in Christ, which heals, liberates, and transforms the poor and oppressed.

In contrast, the Americanized warm, fuzzy version of compassion doesn’t require “suffering with” those in need, because our personal happiness often becomes a primary motivator for our giving. And If I’m honest with myself, I really want that dopamine rush I experience from giving to those less fortunate, especially during the holidays. And while there’s nothing wrong with experiencing gratifying emotions from serving and helping the poor, if I’m not careful, it can eclipse the Biblical model of compassion that is modeled and demanded in Scripture.

So, what’s the solution? Should we stop contributing to toy drives during Christmas? Is it wrong to give from a distance so needy children can enjoy Christmas? The short answer is no. However, let me suggest that we partner with charities that have baked “walk-alongside” relationships of trust within the DNA of the population they serve. The more walk-alongside, loving relationships with the poor and needy, the more likely incidents similar to DD’s story will be rare.