“That's
okay, I can do it myself.”
How
many times have I said that one? More than you'd think. Most of the
time I say it when I'm trying to do some form of work. If I'm
washing my own dish, washing the car, painting a basketball
backboard, drawing a bucket of water from the well, etc., at some
point some Liberian, such as the security guard on duty, will come up
to me and say, “Oh, Jake, I can help you with that,” or “I can
do it for you”.
Needless
to say, I'm an American born and bred and I don't particularly like
having people do things for me, so I reply with, “That's okay, I
can do it myself.”
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| An old picture of our well |
Now,
don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to keep people from doing things
for me. “I can do it myself” isn't an anti-service thing. But
really, doing such things myself is counter-cultural.
There's
this underlying mindset of “service” in Liberian culture when it
comes to menial labor. The lower you are on the ladder of success
and prestige, the more menial labor you have to do. Such as drawing water from the well. So when a white
person (like myself) comes into the country, no Liberian wants to let
the “boss man” get his hands dirty and do actual work.
One
Tuesday we were having a teen Bible study with some local Liberians
just out of school. At one point I was trying to explain in a
relevant way the significance of the fact that Jesus washed his
disciples' feet. They had heard it before, of course; they knew
Bible stories from church, but oftentimes Liberian teens don't grasp
the meaning
behind the stories.
So
here's what I said:
“Say
that Ma Ellen” - (that's the president of Liberia, by the way) -
“is coming into the compound.” I gestured to the rusty gate to
our concrete-block fence. “She gets out of her car and says hello.
Then she says this: 'Oh, I see your feet are very dirty. Let me
wash them for you.' And then she gets down on her hands and knees
and washes your feet.”
At
this, their eyes flew wide and they shouted, “No, no! You can't do
that!” Evidently I had succeeded, and the message got through to
them: Jesus' act was completely counter-cultural and crazy. Nobody
as high and important as President Ellen would stoop as far as to
wash someone
else's feet.
It's crazy!
But
like I said, it's deeply embedded in the culture. When outsiders
come in, this is what they see. They often say, “Wow, how generous
these Africans are! They're always serving others.” And this is
true. When Christ has changed a Liberian's life, it's beautiful to
see. They're unselfish, generous, and serving.
But
too often good things can be twisted. Service is an important part
of Liberian culture, but
it's the wrong kind of service.
The
service Christ calls us to is inherently democratic. One person is
not better than the other. Democracy was born when Paul said, “All
are one in Christ Jesus.” The kind of service the Christian is
called to is where one person serves the other because all are equal.
It is love-motivated service. But the Liberian kind of “service”
turns this truth around: Liberian service is where one person serves
the other because all are unequal.
The Liberian serves the boss-man because he's the boss-man, not
because he wants to serve. But the boss-man doesn't
serve him.
Yet this is exactly what Christ calls us to – to serve one another
regardless of who that “other” is.
Christian
service is out of love. But Liberian “service” is often
out
of selfishness. I had one of our security guards tell me that “the
Liberian love office job”. Why? Because it involves no menial
labor. They only work so that they can get to the point where they
don't have to work.
Yet
Christ says the exact opposite. The last shall be first –
completely counter to everything in this culture, where everything is
a race to be “first”.
But
if this country can regain this kind of Christian service, this real
service,
it will be transformed. And I think that the best way to start is to
serve.
That's
why I say “I can do it myself.” Because the white man can work
too. I'm not higher than anyone else. So
I'll
wash my own dish; and other people's dishes too. I'll draw my own
shower bucket, and my dad's shower bucket too. Change has to start
small before it can grow big.
And
maybe we can turn self-service in to self-sacrificing service.
