Chapel on the 29

"How many of you are ready for 2012?" she called out in a loud voice. Those of us on the 29 bus were startled to hear someone shouting on the relatively quiet bus line. "Barack Obama is going to be your last President-- there won't be a President in 2012. 'They' are challenging Jesus the Living God and there is going to be mass destruction. Jesus is getting ready for them because he knows what 'they' are going to do."

This woman preacher had made her bus seat into her own private pulpit and us passengers were her captive congregation. One passenger smirked to a friend, another turned up the volume on her iPod. A toddler stared at the woman with his mouth agape and the bus driver peered curiously at the woman in the rear-view mirrow.

Undaunted by our passivity and our disinterest in pending doom, the speaker started singing in a surprisingly strong and beautiful voice. "How great is our God; how great is our God..."

"COME ON, SOMEBODY SING IT WITH ME!... How great is our God..."

She continued singing her contemporary chorus while our multi-cultural, traveling chapel on wheels roamed the streets of the city. While I don't quite follow her theology, I believe that her zeal, courage, and sense of the sacred came closer to "church" than many a congregation I have visited in my time.

Easter In San Francisco

Returning to San Francisco after visiting family in Stockton, I wearily rode the N-Judah on the last leg home. I perked up when two men came aboard- both wearing clunky hiking boots. They both also wore bright colored, form-fitting knit dresses, and adorable Little House on the Prairie calico sun bonnets were tied in neat bows under their stubbly chins.

As I observed them from the precarious safety of my peripheral vision I concluded that they looked like Laura Ingalls had left the Banks of Plum Creek to join the lumberjacks near the Little House in the Big Woods. At any rate, I'm certain that Pa would have offered to play fiddle for them, and Ma would have most definitely disapproved.

Reflecting On $1 a Day

Originally I had three reasons for wanting to conduct this experiment in truth:

1) To reveal my compulsions- yes, this experiment revealed the things that are completely out of control in my life. In fact it did more than that. It wrote my compulsions in big, bright letters and posted them on a 50 foot marquis with rotating spotlights shining in all directions and signaling “Look here! Look here at all the things that Melanie doesn’t have a handle on- chocolate, morning comfort in the form of coffee, the desire to fit in, buying things I don’t need…”

2) To be in “training” for a day when I may be called to go “all in”- on a scale of 1-10 (10 being super radical), this experiment was about a 5 for me. It’s all relative. Some people thought what I was doing was unfathomably crazy, and others yawned and resolved to wait for future blog entries about wing walking. But whether people were inspired or not, I stepped out and was in training for something bigger in my life. If an opportunity that requires obedience and sacrifice is offered to me, I’m one step closer to saying “yes” even if the opportunity may be somewhat uncomfortable or scary.

3) To better identify with the poor- I was able to live in a little solidarity with the poor in that people who live in poverty were greatly on my mind and heart for 40 days. But the exercise was one of considerable futility because of the privilege and power that I was born into. My friend Sarah gamely took my challenge and lived on $1 a day for one week. She blogged about her similar experience of privilege and class here.

I’m reluctant to make some grand statements such as:
“THIS IS WHAT I LEARNED...” or
“THIS IS WHAT I AM DOING DIFFERENTLY FROM NOW ON...’

However, this experiment had a profound affect on me and I am not going back to business as usual. There may be some permanent changes, but for the time being I am remembering the words of Jesus to his disciples- ‘the poor you will always have with you". Most people think this just means something like “hey, there are always going to be poor people around. That’s just how life is. Do what you can, but don’t sweat it too much.”

But after my 40 day experiment I’m getting the idea that by saying “the poor you will always have with you” maybe what Jesus meant was that I am always going to have them on my mind, or in my life work, or maybe even literally by my side. I’m open to any and all of those things.

Celebratory Meal

My celebratory meal with friends-- during which I spent considerably more than one dollar.


Thanks to vicki!, Chris, and Elizabeth for helping me put a symbolic period on the 40 day sentence.

Day 40- $1 a day

"We must talk about poverty, because people insulated by their own comfort lose sight of it."
- Dorothy Day




That about sums it up for me.
But stay tuned-- I'll be posting some more reflections about my $1 a day experiment within the next week.

Day 39- $1 a day

On this day before the end of my experiment I am experiencing two feelings.

1) I feel excited about the things and experiences I can purchase after tomorrow—cheese, cocktails, new socks, a haircut, iTunes songs, Warriors tickets. It’s not that I didn’t eat well or that I didn’t experience pleasure while my experiment was in process. It’s just that on Thursday night I will have more options to choose from of things that are fun, tasty and pleasurable.

However, I must admit that I have been sitting in my easy chair tonight staring out the window with a heavy heart, a stray tear occasionally welling up in my eye.

2) I feel sad for the billions of people in the world who live on less than $1 a day and for whom this is not experiment. It’s brutal reality. Very few of the world’s poor are waking up tomorrow morning and saying, “Well, thank goodness those 40 days are over! Where shall I dine out with my friends tonight?”

I see my ending point. For people living in extreme poverty there is no end in sight. I can call it all off anytime I want. They can’t. This makes me profoundly sad.

Day 38- $1 a day

"When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist."

-Dom Helder Camara, former Archbishop of Olinda and Recife, Brazil





“If you can’t feed a hundred people, then just feed one.”
- Mother Theresa of Calcutta