
Homelessness, Part 4
The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall! My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me. Lamentations 3:19 (NRSV)
Many churches, particularly downtown churches, face a challenging dilemma when it comes to the homeless. My own church is among them. There is no doubt that homeless persons today are disenfranchised in ways comparable to the folks Jesus focused his ministry on and that Jesus explicitly instructed us to care for and about. Christian churches, by definition, hold themselves out to be followers of the Christ as manifested through Jesus of Nazareth. And the life work of Jesus always included the undesirables, the outcasts, and those different in various ways from so much of his society – the lepers, those possessed by demons, the widows and children, and the immigrants. He exposed the religious elite for their hypocrisy and arrogance in portraying themselves as holier and more righteous than others. He also exposed the greed and stinginess of the rich folks of his day. I used to thank God I was not among the religious elite or the rich folks – until I realized I was. And my encounters with the homeless, among others, brought me to that realization because holiness and richness are relative terms.
Most churches built their existence with carefully scripted and time-limited services that included worshipful music, inspiring sermons, liturgical affirmations, and pious prayers for those within and outside the church. Attendees dressed in nice, clean clothes and strove to conform to the appearance and conduct expectations of good, up-standing church folk. Somewhere in the historical development of the church, those were ensconced among the standards considered important and Christian. Interestingly, those types of standards do not come from the Bible or the types of fellowship modeled by Jesus.
Homeless folks can publicly expose hypocrisy in religious institutions and the good, Christian folks who attend and support them, just as Jesus did. My church adopted the motto, “Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors,” as have many other churches. But we struggle with how best to live up to and into that motto, both individually and as a church. For example, our doors are wide open for worship but are locked the rest of the week with access only granted by code, prescheduled event, or video contact with the office. That has become a regrettable neccesity in recent years for the protection of the staff because of the numbers of marginalized people seeking shelter and a place for respite. Although the majority of homeless folks are not a physical threat to others, there are those with untreated mental illness or substance issues whose behaviors can be unpredictable. And our church building is large and our staff numbers are small. Even so, I feel a twinge of hypocrisy when I attempt to reconcile our “Open (but locked) Doors.”
Although our church makes admirable efforts to assist many of the homeless and other disenfranchised folks, we do not always manifest “Open Hearts” or “Open Minds” well, either. Admittedly, many homeless and marginalized people present differently from the rest of us. They often smell different, their clothes may be dirty and fit poorly, many will not look us in the eye or speak clearly. When we behave as if the way folks have traditionally presented themselves in church is the expectation for acceptable entry into the church, we have further ostracized an already alienated sector of God’s children who are unable to meet our patently-unbiblical standards for appearance and behavior. And many of those folks have very simple immediate needs like a restroom, a cup of coffee, a smile of welcome, or a warm space on a cold day. My church does a good job of inviting these folks to worship, but most of us cannot help but notice their differences. I believe they notice our noticing and interpret (sometimes correctly) that as harsh judgement on their personhood. Although we would (hopefully) never say it aloud, we may silently project a message of unworthiness, of undesirability, or of un-goodness. Jesus would roll over in his tomb (were he still there). As Christians, we must learn to see, acknowledge, and treat people of difference as equally worthy and valued children of God, as Jesus did.
Showing mercy is a hallmark of the life and teachings of Jesus. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and helping care for those who cannot care for themselves are important acts of mercy. But mercy alone is not sufficient. South African Bishop Desmond Tutu said, “There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river. We need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in.” Pulling people out of the river is an act of mercy. Finding out why they are falling in and addressing the cause is justice, often called righteousness in the Bible. Both must be priorities for churches and individuals trying to follow Jesus, and there are no quick, easy, or convenient solutions.
This is the 7th in a series about The New-Old Social Pandemic. The opinions expressed here are mine. To engage with me or to explore contemplative spiritual direction, contact me at ghildenbrand@sunflower.com.

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