CREEDE HINSHAW: Gaining unexpected introspection

I never expected to gain insight into myself by reading author David Gilmour’s “The Pursuit of Italy: A History of a Land, Its Regions and Their Peoples” (Farrar, Strauss and Giroux 2011). At 400 pages, this fascinating book will colorfully address culture and geography, Garibaldi, Mussolini, Berlusconi, the disasters of World Wars I and II, the Mafia and why Gilmour believes Italy is ill suited to be a nation.

I can’t guarantee you’ll learn about yourself, but I did, and here’s how:

Gilmour’s portrait of the incomparable composer Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) provided the backdrop. Verdi “… was a kind and generous person. Near his house he constructed a hospital and in Milan he built a retirement home for impoverished musicians. Throughout his life he gave money to victims of earthquakes and other disasters, and in his will he left large sums to hospitals and schools as well as to individuals, including an annual payment to the fifty poorest people in Roncole.” (Gilmour, page 273)

I wished I were still in the pulpit to tell my congregation about Verdi’s generosity. His support of the poorest of the poor in his hometown was especially inspiring. What a creative way to share one’s wealth!

At least I thought it was inspiring.

A few days later, I was in downtown Macon on a self-imposed schedule, hoping to finish in time to make it to the racquetball court. Finding a parking spot in front of the store I planned to zip right in, accomplish my task and head to the gym.

There was one slight hitch: Between me and the storefront stood a person who might have been homeless. If I was right, I suspected, he would approach me. I was right on both counts.

“Do you have 50 cents you could spare?” he asked.

“Not today,” I replied, hardly looking at him and never stopping.

Resolutely striding towards the storefront, I heard these last words, “Never mind.”

How long it has been since somebody asked me for an amount as paltry as 50 cents? How long since I’ve carried coins in my pocket? I told the literal truth when I dismissed this man without as much as a respectful greeting.

I almost immediately realized two things about myself in that encounter.

First, I was curt because I didn’t know what the smallest bill was in my wallet. What if I only had a $20 bill? Would I have given it to him? I hate to admit my cheapness to myself, let alone in print.

Second, it hit me that it is easier to be inspired by somebody else’s generosity than to practice my own. I wanted to tell others how Verdi helped the poor, but I didn’t want to practice what I wanted to preach. His final words “Never mind” were a pronouncement of judgment on me.

Thanks, Gilmour, for the story about Verdi. Thanks, Spirit of God, for applying that story to me.

Email Creede Hinshaw, a retired Methodist minister, at [email protected].