I trust you as far as I can throw you

I am a nervous eater.  I just ate three peach slices and two pieces of fruitcake.  I don't even like fruitcake.

You see, sometimes weird things happen to me, and they make me a little nervous.  For instance, there was today.  I walked into a shop where my friend, Joel, works.  He and his boss and I had a nice little chat about literature and film (OK, it was The Hunger Games and some novel his boss was reading).  I felt rude just walking out without buying anything, so I decided to get some hard candy.  Finding I hadn't enough cash-ola, I went to the bank and came back, only to find a 50-something year old guy buying a coffee grinder.

I told Joel what I wanted, and Mr. 50 starts talking to me in an Italian accent (which is totally fake) about his coffee grinder.  Fast forward 15 minutes and he's still talking to me, we've had Italian accent, French and American by now.  I've heard about his three heathen children, his wife, his heart attacks, his Presbyterian mother, and his benefit dinner where he raised $10,000 for seeing eye dogs.  Naturally, he threw in a few questions about my accent and what was I doing in Australia.  He said he'd probably come to church in the morning and could he wear something casual and what time did it start and all that.  More about his heathen children, more about traveling the world, etc. etc.  Then he said since he had several purchases, had just had a stroke and had his dog to attend to also, could I help him out to his car, which was just out back.  I said nope, but that Joel was his man and could help him out.  More about his dog, etc.  Finally, as if he'd just realized we'd been talking for 20 minutes, he said, oh, you have places to be.  Handshake.  Have a good day.

I gave Joel several looks, which he returned with silent laughter, and I walked out the door.

Upon amateur analysis, there are two ways to see this man.

#1 The charismatic creeper.  He could be a serial killer whose name is not Geoff, like he said, but Harold.  He could have no children but 5 goldfish and keep the dog for public image.  If I'd helped him with his purchases I could have been in a body bag before you could say Jack be nimble, since he hasn't had any strokes and does Pilates to be at the top of his murderous game.

#2 The outgoing yakkety yak.  He could be one of those who's never met a stranger and has no trouble spilling his life story in a shop to an equally talkative American.  He does have three kids who give him grief and it's refreshing to talk to someone their age who is nice.

Either way, I was eating fruitcake.  Obviously, if #1 is true, that's creepy.  I was in a safe public place and the only time I felt a little stranger dangery was when he asked me to help him to his car.  Obviously, if #2 is true, WHY ARE PEOPLE LIKE THAT?!  Using three accents on strange girls in shops is WEIRD.  Spilling your life story to strangers is socially inappropriate.  Talking to people you've just met on a whim for more than 20 minutes is usually annoying.

This situation raises a good question.  Who do we trust?  If we decide no one is really trustworthy, we become paranoid and community cannot exist, much less flourish.  If we trust anyone and everyone, we can get taken advantage of.  Our marketplaces, friendships, and governments all rely on some amount of trust, usually trust that a person or a group of persons will abide by a particular set of rules.  You could call these social circles, communities.

In healthy communities, as in healthy portfolios, there is a fair amount of diversification.  Old people, young people, risk takers, risk avoiders, businessmen, teachers, etc.  We can draw on this collective knowledge and wisdom to make decisions about who to trust.  (My friend the lobbyist favors this candidate, so I think I will too.  My mom gets good produce deals at this grocery store.  My dad has stayed in every hotel in Cheyenne, WY and knows which is the best.)  We don't have to depend on knowing about all kinds of things because we can rely on our collective community knowledge.

Conversely, when communities don't exist or have disintegrated, individuals are left vulnerable and without important intellectual and relational capital.  (I just graduated from high school and went to college out of state.  My family just broke up and those relationships have been severely damaged.  I live 100 miles from my nearest neighbor and I don't have internet(!).)  Those left stranded community-less can easily be adopted into a community that is harmful (gangs or groups with self-damaging addictions).

Communities, institutions or the pillars of society, call them whatever you want.  They matter.  They keep people safe physically and relationally.  They grow community gardens and knit hats for premature infants and play church league softball in the summers.  Wherever you are, whatever your gifts, find a community to be a part of.  I don't care if you aren't into "established religion" or joining clubs or don't know how to quilt.

There's only one Lone Ranger, and you aren't him.

Cheers to communities,

Little Miss Sunshine