Having Nothing But Having Everything
I sat there unconciously comparing him to me. The way he carried himself to the way I carry myself. His clothes to mine. His hair to mine. OK, so I just looked at his hair and dreamt of how I would comb my hair if I had any. I watched intently as he received a special escort who walked him in and offered him a seat. He accepted the seat, no questions asked, and tried hard to blend in. It didn't work.
When everyone sat down, I found myself still strangely captivated by him. I stared at him through the maze of people between the two of us. I wondered what his situation was. Where he was from. What he did. And most of all, what brought him here.
His hair was choraled by a thick cotton headband meant to keep his ears warm. The hair that managed to escape the headband fell in a number of random directions. His fleece workcoat was supposed to shelter him from a brutal prairie winter. No gloves. No boots. No scarf. All things that I have and he doesn't. There I sat, comparing myself to him again.
By all appearances, this man looked to be homeless. The easy thing for him to do would be to look around and see what everyone else was doing and then copy it, especially in a room full of perfect strangers. But he didn't do that. He didn't do much of anything, really. He didn't go through the motions, nor did he do any of the things I had grown so used to doing. In fact, I continued to do those very things while still staring at him wondering who he was and why he was here.
A little while later a couple of guys, neither of whom I know personally but I recognized both, left where they were sitting and joined this homeless man who occupied an entire section by himself. They introduced themselves and then just sat there. It wasn't a good time to make small-talk with a stranger. It just wasn't a good time to talk at all. So they sat there. With a homeless man they didn't know. These two guys didn't have to do it, but they did.
Now I sat in my place equally captivated by the homeless man, as well as these two teenage guys who left the comfort of their familiar surroundings and parked themselves next to a man they had never met before.
Since the day I watched this happen, a few questions have been mercilessly doing laps in my head.
Would I have had the guts to do that? Would I pull up to a homeless man I didn't know and, if nothing else, just sit there with him? Would I befriend a guy who although surrounded by a few hundred other people, looked especially lonely? I would like to think so but I'm not sure.
Would I respond any differently to this homeless guy out on the street if I saw him on a Tuesday evening instead of a Sunday morning?
James lays all the cards on the table:
When everyone sat down, I found myself still strangely captivated by him. I stared at him through the maze of people between the two of us. I wondered what his situation was. Where he was from. What he did. And most of all, what brought him here.
His hair was choraled by a thick cotton headband meant to keep his ears warm. The hair that managed to escape the headband fell in a number of random directions. His fleece workcoat was supposed to shelter him from a brutal prairie winter. No gloves. No boots. No scarf. All things that I have and he doesn't. There I sat, comparing myself to him again.
By all appearances, this man looked to be homeless. The easy thing for him to do would be to look around and see what everyone else was doing and then copy it, especially in a room full of perfect strangers. But he didn't do that. He didn't do much of anything, really. He didn't go through the motions, nor did he do any of the things I had grown so used to doing. In fact, I continued to do those very things while still staring at him wondering who he was and why he was here.
A little while later a couple of guys, neither of whom I know personally but I recognized both, left where they were sitting and joined this homeless man who occupied an entire section by himself. They introduced themselves and then just sat there. It wasn't a good time to make small-talk with a stranger. It just wasn't a good time to talk at all. So they sat there. With a homeless man they didn't know. These two guys didn't have to do it, but they did.
Now I sat in my place equally captivated by the homeless man, as well as these two teenage guys who left the comfort of their familiar surroundings and parked themselves next to a man they had never met before.
Since the day I watched this happen, a few questions have been mercilessly doing laps in my head.
Would I have had the guts to do that? Would I pull up to a homeless man I didn't know and, if nothing else, just sit there with him? Would I befriend a guy who although surrounded by a few hundred other people, looked especially lonely? I would like to think so but I'm not sure.
Would I respond any differently to this homeless guy out on the street if I saw him on a Tuesday evening instead of a Sunday morning?
James lays all the cards on the table:
1My dear friends, don't let public opinion influence how you live out our glorious, Christ-originated faith. 2If a man enters your church wearing an expensive suit, and a street person wearing rags comes in right after him, 3and you say to the man in the suit, "Sit here, sir; this is the best seat in the house!" and either ignore the street person or say, "Better sit here in the back row," 4haven't you segregated God's children and proved that you are judges who can't be trusted?
5Listen, dear friends. Isn't it clear by now that God operates quite differently? He chose the world's down-and-out as the kingdom's first citizens, with full rights and privileges. This kingdom is promised to anyone who loves God. 6And here you are abusing these same citizens! Isn't it the high and mighty who exploit you, who use the courts to rob you blind? 7Aren't they the ones who scorn the new name--"Christian"-used in your baptisms?
5Listen, dear friends. Isn't it clear by now that God operates quite differently? He chose the world's down-and-out as the kingdom's first citizens, with full rights and privileges. This kingdom is promised to anyone who loves God. 6And here you are abusing these same citizens! Isn't it the high and mighty who exploit you, who use the courts to rob you blind? 7Aren't they the ones who scorn the new name--"Christian"-used in your baptisms?
James 2:1-7
I'm supposed to be thinking, acting, and responding differently. Different from the world. Different from what I am right now.
As James matter-of-factly says, don't think you're any better than him because, from God's angle, you're not. God loves him just as much as he loves you. Jesus died for him just as much as he died for you. The Holy Spirit longs to live in him just as much as he longs to live in you. The church needs to embrace him just as much as they have embraced you. The beauty of recognizing the need is the blessing that follows: you become "the kingdom's first citizens, with full rights and privileges."
The appearance of the outside matters little when the inside is a mess. When you judge a person simply by their outward appearance, you're sadly missing the point, as I was reminded from James' words.
Fortunately, James also says, "You do well when you complete the Royal Rule of the Scriptures: 'Love others as you love yourself'" (Jas 2:8). This is the heartbeat of Jesus. This is the hope of the gospel. And the gospel is the hope of the world.
Kudo's to two teenage guys who brought the pages of the Bible alive for me. They responded differently, and given another opportunity, I hope I will, too.
posted by Kevin Weeks @ 7:53 p.m.
1 comments
1 Comments:
I noticed this man as well Sunday. I wondered where this man was coming from and what kind of life he was living. I knew one of the high school kids that sat with this man and wondered where their courage came from to sit with someone they didn't know at all. I don't think, actually I know, that I didn't have the courage to do the same.
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