At one recent Bible study, we were discussing the beginning of the Last Supper scene in John where Peter protests when Jesus tries to wash his feet. The different reactions my pastor and I had to it probably say a lot about us.

I thought of it as strictly a status thing. Peter sees Jesus as a superior, and doesn't want to see his hero act like a slave. My pastor saw it as a reflection of a problem he has -- that he likes to do things for others but has trouble accepting service from others.

This led to a general discussion about people we know who have the same problem. The story I most remember was about an elderly woman who'd always been the one to visit and bring a casserole or some such to anyone suffering an illness or loss. When she developed some chronic illness of age, someone wanted to let the church know so they could return the favor. She adamantly refused, saying, "I'd rather die than let that happen!"

This is not a problem I've ever had, personally, and I struggled to understand it. It sounded to me like there was something less than Christian about all her years of giving. Indeed, like she had contempt for those she was helping. As if behind her smiles and friendliness she was thinking, "Poor thing, I'd rather die than be in the position I'm putting you in right now."

Humans being what we are, gift giving can be highly political. It creates and reinforces networks of obligations. In premodern societies, especially ones without a real money economy, this is fairly explicit, and the line between gift exchange and commerce is less than clear. There is power in being the one who has something to bestow. I used to have a roommate who loved to cook, and I could see quite plainly how he used his cooking as a social implement. He'd bring his victuals to new neighbors to make friends, make himself a desirable invitation to a potluck or a picnic, and generally give people something to praise him for. If it sounds like I'm being too hard on the guy in making him sound that manipulative, well, you didn't try to live with him. When I said after a while that I'd rather decline his cooking than owe what he expected me to do in return (like all the dishes, for instance), he was apoplectic.

Or maybe this is just me thinking of things in terms of status and power again. Perhaps the woman simply couldn't face her own mortality and weakness. It still seems kind of strange to me because when I'm contemplating what to do for a person in trouble I usually try to imagine what I would want in their place, and imagining that means accepting that you might be in their place. But I guess a lot of people don't think about it that much. When someone has a serious illness or a death in the family, you bring a casserole, because that's what good church people do.

One woman at the study said that when she lost her husband to cancer, the folks at her previous church overwhelmed her with kindness, bringing enough food to keep her in stock for about two months. It did, she said, help her bear the pain. So I suppose that while Christian giving may be far from perfect, sometimes those nice church ladies with their casseroles are just what you need.