HELPING AND OVER-HELPING.
"As we meet and touch each day
The many travellers on our way,
Let every such brief contact be
A glorious, helpful ministry;
The contact of the soil and seed,
Each giving to the other's need,
Each helping on the other's best,
And blessing each as well as blest."
Even kindness may be overdone. One may be too gentle. Love may hold
others back from duty, and thus may wreck destinies. We need to guard
against meddling with God's discipline, softening the experience that
he means to be hard, sheltering our friend from the wind that he
intends to blow chillingly. All summer does not make a good zone to
live in; we need autumn and winter to temper the heat, and keep
vegetation from luxuriant overgrowth. The best thing we can do for
others is not always to take their load or do their duty for them.
Of course we are to be helpful to others. No aim should be put higher
in our life-plans than that of personal helpfulness. The motto of the
true Christian cannot be other than that of the Master: "Not to be
ministered unto, but to minister." Even in the ambition to gather and
retain wealth, the spirit of the desire must be, if we are Christians
at all, that thereby we may become more helpful to others; that
through, or by means of, our wealth, we may be enabled to do larger and
greater good. Whatever gift, power, or possession we have that we do
not seek to use in this way is not yet truly devoted to God. Fruit is
the test of character, and the purpose of fruit is not to adorn the
tree or vine, but to feed hunger. Whatever we are, whatever we have,
is fruit, and must be held for the feeding of the hunger of others.
Thus personal helpfulness is the aim of all truly consecrated life. In
so far as we are living for ourselves, we are not Christians.
Then there are many ways of helping others. Some people help us in
material ways. It is a still higher kind of help which we get from
those who minister to our mental needs, who write the books which
charm, instruct, and entertain us. Mind is greater than body. Bread,
and clothing, and furniture, and houses will not satisfy our
intellectual cravings. There are those, however, who do help us in
these loftier ranges. Music, poetry, and art minister both to our
gratification and our culture. Good books bring to us inestimable
benefits. They tell us of new worlds, and inspire us to conquer them.
They show us lofty and noble ideals, and stimulate us to attain them.
They make us larger, better, stronger. The help we get from books is
incalculable.
Yet the truest and best help any one can give to others is not in
material things, but in ways that make them stronger and better. Money
is good alms when money is really needed, but in comparison with the
divine gifts of hope, friendship, courage, sympathy, and love, it is
paltry and poor. Usually the help people need is not so much the
lightening of their burden, as fresh strength to enable them to bear
their burden, and stand up under it. The best thing we can do for
another, some one has said, is not to make some things easy for him,
but to make something of him.
It is just here that friendship makes most of its mistakes. It
over-helps. It helps by ministering relief, by lifting away loads, by
gathering hindrances out of the way, when it would help much more
wisely by seeking to impart hope, strength, energy. "Our friends,"
says Emerson, "are those who make us do what we can." Says another
writer: "Our real friend is not the man or woman who smooths over our
difficulties, throws a cloak over our failings, stands between us and
the penalties which our mistakes have brought upon us, but the man or
woman who makes us understand ourselves, and helps us to better
things." Love is weak, and too often pampers and flatters. It thinks
that loyalty requires it to make life easy as possible for the beloved
one.
Too often our friendship is most short-sighted in this regard, and most
hurtful to those we fervently desire to aid. We should never indulge
or encourage weakness in others when we can in any way stimulate it
into strength. We should never do anything for another which we can
inspire him to do for himself. Much parental affection errs at this
point. Life is made too easy for children. They are sheltered when it
were better if they faced the storm. They are saved from toil and
exertion, when toil and exertion are God's ordained means of grace for
them, of which the parents rob them in their over-tenderness. There
are children who are wronged by the cruelty and inhumanity of parents,
and whose cries to heaven make the throne of the Eternal rock and sway;
but there are children, also, who are wronged of much that is noblest
and best in their inheritance by the over-kindness of parents.
In every warm friendship, too, there is strong temptation to make the
same mistake. We have to be ever on our guard against over-helping.
Our aim should always be to inspire in our friend new energy, to
develop in him the noblest strength, to bring out his best manhood.
Over-helping defeats these offices of friendship.
There is one particular point at which a special word of caution may
well be spoken. We need to guard our sympathies when we would comfort
and help those who are suffering or are in trouble of any kind. It may
seem a severe thing to say, but illness is ofttimes made worse by the
pity of friends. There is in weak natures a tendency to indulge
sickness, to exaggerate its symptoms, to imagine that it is more
serious than it really is, and easily to succumb to its influence. You
find your friend indisposed, and you are profuse in your expressions of
sympathy, encouraging or suggesting fears, urging prompt medical help.
You think you have shown kindness, but very likely you have done sore
injury. You have left a depressing influence behind you. Your friend
is disheartened and alarmed. You have left him weaker, not stronger.
It may seem hard-hearted to appear to be unsympathetic with invalids,
and those who are slightly or even seriously sick; not to take interest
in their complaints; not to say commiserating things to them; but
really it is the part of true friendship to help sick people fight the
battle with their ills. We ought, therefore, to guard against speaking
any word which will discourage them, increase their fear, exaggerate
their thought of their illness, or weaken them in their struggle. On
the other hand, we ought to say words which will cheer and strengthen
them, and make them braver for the fight. Our duty is to help them to
get well.
Perhaps the very medicine they need is a glimpse of cheerful outlook.
Sick people ofttimes fall into a mood of disheartenment and self-pity
which seriously retards their recovery. To sit down beside them then,
and fall into their gloomy spirit, listening sympathetically to their
discouraged words, is to do them sore unkindness. The true office of
friendship in such cases is to drive away the discouragement, and put
hope and courage into the sore heart. We must try to make our sick
friend braver to endure his sufferings.
Then, even in the sacredness of sorrow, we should never forget that our
mission to others is not merely to weep with them, but to help them to
be victorious, to receive their sorrow as a messenger from God, and to
bear themselves as God's children under it. Instead, therefore, of
mere emotional condolence with our friends in their times of grief, we
should seek to present to them the strong comforts of divine love, and
to inspire them to the bearing of their sorrow in faith and hope and
joy.
So all personal helpfulness should be wise and thoughtful. It should
never tend to pamper weakness, to encourage dependence, to make people
timid, to debilitate manliness and womanliness, to make parasites of
those who turn to us with their burdens and needs. We must take care
that our helping does not dwarf any life which we ought rather to
stimulate to noble and beautiful growth. God never makes such mistakes
as this. He never fails us in need, but he loves us too well and is
too wise to relieve us of weights which we need to make our growth
healthful and vigorous. We should learn from God, and should help as
he helps, without over-helping.