At college, I took a course called Social Problems and Change, and it was by far one of the most beloved courses during my college career. It was not, however, an uplifting experience for my soul; quite the opposite actually, it crushed me in the way that only knowledge can wound. Every Tuesday morning and Friday afternoon I would walk into classroom 5, knowing full well that I was about to sit through 75 minutes of brutally looking out at the world around me. A world full of vast problems like globalization, environmental degradation, wars, famine, slavery and injustice. A world with problems so immense that often I found them hard enough of comprehend, let alone rectify.

It was the weight of this knowledge that almost defeated me. For with it I found a hopeless feeling creeping in. I mean really, who I am in the eye of the beast that is globalization? How can I even begin to bring about the systemic change that I so desperately craved? And yet I knew that I was responsible for the knowledge that I held. As much as I wanted to walk away from that knowledge, back to the comfort and safety found in ignorance, I simply could not. And around every corner knowledge haunted me, calling me to some sort of action. Finally I came to the conclusion that no matter how small and seemingly insignificant my action was to those around me, I still had to act. For to not act was to allow a deep part of my being to die.

This past week I went down to Wilmington, DE to meet with Terry and Ben and interview them for The Ordinary Radicals Documentary. Ben and Terry do not get much more ordinary as people. They are both married, go to church, and hold big business jobs. They were living their suburban lives as usual when knowledge hit them like a bus out of nowhere. Forcing them, as it did me, out into the world to do small, seemingly insignificant things. Things like taking the homeless and hungry out to share a meal with them. It was this small action that birthed a close friendship with many that our society shuns. One of these beautiful friendships is with a guy named Herman, who I also had the chance to meet.

Herman has struggled through his life to do right and get straight. He is a gentle man who doesn’t like too much attention. He is an amazing chess player and has taught me a lot about the joy of life in the few short hours we spent together.

Ben and Terry are raising money for Herman to try and give him the boost he needs to get his life back on track. They are trying to get him an apartment, a mattress, a radio and some fruit. Doing so by asking for a single dollar from folks.

I must admit that at first I was rather skeptical towards their whole movement. I mean really, how is helping one homeless person going to do anything… right? But through talking with Herman, Ben and Terry, I discovered a piece of myself in them. That piece which must act in any small way just to stay alive. And although helping Herman may seem insignificant to some, to Herman the change Ben and Terry and enacting in his life… well, to say the least, it is changing the world for him. Small things, great love… perhpas it really is the answer. Perhaps within those four small words lie the secret to standing up to the powers that be, to rectifying the injustice… in short, maybe that is how we change the world… or more importantly, maybe that is the secret to how we keep the world from changing us…

1. Ken, May 29, 2008:

   In glancing through the responses to this project on Terry’s site, I see a common thread – one that you’ve identified – the fact that the small things can and do make a difference. By just making this move, Ben and Terry have started something that’s inspired people all over the world. If just a few of us were to decide to make a small effort on a weekly basis – how different would this world look?

   Thanks for posting this piece – very inspiring and insightful!

2. Joanna Champney, May 29, 2008:

   Nicole, I couldn’t agree more. As a student who has taken many social science courses, the changes discussed were always on a macro level, rarely on a personal level, and there was always this idea of social triage, or helping only those who will “benefit” from the help. I think what’s so “radical” about what Terry and Ben are doing is that they are helping someone not because they view Herman as a social investment that’ll “pay off” in the sense that he’ll do a complete 180 (although I think we all agree that would be a great bi-product), but that they are simply helping out someone in a very personal and grass-roots kind of way because that’s what Jesus modeled for us– loving our neighbors as ourselves. Love your blog, will be coming back to visit again!

3. Deana, May 30, 2008:

   Often I think we judge our own accomplishments by criteria set up by popular mainstream. We think we need to have the splashy affect of TV news-making influence to be successful. We think we need to have resume-building, blog-writing activities which show progress. God does not. God expects us to act, regardless of outward perception of progress. Here s food for thought I found in a book called Justice in the Burbs. It is a Meditation by Claudia Mair Burney

   Jesus lives next door. He’s an eight-year-old girl and her three-year-old brother. The Son of Man looks like those starving Ethiopian children. He gets only breakfast and lunch at school, when he makes it. His mama is a crack addict. Nobody knows where his daddy is. I heard his mama lets her ‘Johns’ do things to him.

   Poor King of Kings.

   Jesus is two houses down and has 6 children. Now he’s pregnant with the 7th. I don’t’ know if he hasn’t figured out what birth control is or what, but how does he expect to feed all those babies on that salary? And you know with all those kids, the Lord of Lords can’t work. That means hard-working taxpayers’ money on Christ’s food stamps!

   He needs to get fixed.

   The Lord is a crazy man– a paranoid schizophrenic. If he doesn’t take his medicine, he walks up and down the street, cussing and spitting on everybody he passes. He’s homeless and nobody knows where is family is–if he’s got one. Digs out of the trashcans for food. Somebody ought to get him off the streets.

   Jesus is nothing but a nuisance.

   I’m starting to see the Son of God everywhere I go. He’s always crying or begging or looking pitiful. Why doesn’t He pull himself up by his bootstraps? This is America! Makes me mad. He’s ruining our neighborhood.

   Somebody ought to do something about Him. Somebody.

   We are those somebodies, ladies and gentlemen.

4. Terry Foester, June 2, 2008:

   Nicole,
   Thanks so much for coming to meet Herman. I love how you described your day in Wilmington. Ben and I had a good time meeting up with you & John. You captured so much of what’s happening here.
   Talk to you soon.