Red Light Morality

A lot of times when I see a panhandler, my first reaction is: aw shit.

Not because I hate them. Not because I think I’m better than them. It’s more complicated than that.

I feel a strange embarrassment. I get upset that I suddenly have to make a moral decision. I’m upset that I become torn.

On one hand, I can hear the voice of Christ telling me to give to those who ask of me. If someone asks for one, give him two. And maybe that should be enough. A lot of times, it is.

But when I don’t give, what is that?

Is it disgust? Contempt? Is it a part of me that thinks handouts create expectation?

I think that’s what it is for me.

Other people might hesitate because they’re suspicious about drug use. They might wonder where the money is going. They might feel like giving cash makes them an enabler, or even complicit in addiction spreading further.

But where they spend the money usually isn’t my main justification for not donating.

It’s not that I don’t care where they spend it. But in a strange way, I also kind of don’t. Because I expect most of them to want drugs really badly.

What it turns into is the red-light morality test.

Ecudes17