Homelessness, Part 5

Homelessness, Part 5

Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. Matthew 25:40

I have written that the homeless often expose the hypocrisy of Christian churches, particularly those located in areas where marginalized persons congregate, which is not meant to imply that it is easy to follow Jesus’ example in ministering to the disenfranchised. As a music leader I am sometimes confronted with a challenging disruption from someone whose desires or needs do not match the planned flow of a worship service. For example, a number of years ago a ragged-looking man entered the sanctuary, stumbled to the front, and loudly insisted that we sing “Amazing Grace.” He had fresh blood streaked down his left forearm, had been drinking, and looked and smelled like he hadn’t showered, shaved, or changed clothes for many days. My first instinct was to ignore him, hoping he would go away. The band and I were leading the congregation through a scheduled song set which did not include his request. He stood at the foot of the steps before the altar and pleaded for “Amazing Grace.” I finally told him if he would take a seat on the pew beside him, I would sing the song with him when we finished the scheduled songs. A short time later, I took my guitar, led him to a room beside the sanctuary, and we sang “Amazing Grace” together. He sang passionately, almost desperately. I witnessed the healing power of the song as he relaxed and tears streamed down his face. When we finished and I was called back into the service, he thanked me and exited the building. I never saw him again, but the encounter moves me still today. In retrospect, and given Jesus’ words from Matthew 25, I wonder: could this have been Jesus manifesting as a socially distasteful person providing an opportunity for me and my church to serve a very simple, if inconvenient need? I now wish I would’ve strayed from the worship script and had the entire congregation join the singing, too.

The fact is that homeless and other marginalized populations disrupt our worship services in various  ways with some regularity. But are marginalized persons actually disrupting our services, or are the established rhythms of our services disrupting our willingness or ability to serve these othered children of God? Which should be the higher priority? Recently, in the middle of the sermon, a homeless man walked up to the altar and threw a cup of water onto the open Bible and altar, mumbled something unintelligible, and stormed out of the building. Some of us knew this person from previous encounters as a moody substance abuser. We cannot, however, ignore his status as a fellow human being, loved (at least) by God, with a need that the structure of our worship service did not meet. Serving the marginalized is seldom easy or comfortable. I doubt it was easy in Jesus’ day either, but he persisted as if they were his ministry, not interruptions to it. I believe our challenge is to find a way to serve all people, including and especially those like these two men. Who can God love and care for them through if not the church?

In my understanding of the inconvenient words of Jesus recorded in Matthew 25:31-46, how we treat the least in society is how we treat Jesus. In other words, we reveal our love for and commitment to Jesus in the ways we care for and about the marginalized in our midst. Following Jesus is drastically inconsistent with commonly held beliefs about the pursuit of our happiness. It requires difficult and sacrificial choices on our part. In his own words (Luke 9:23): “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (emphasis added).

It seems that following Jesus requires us to hold everything we have in life loosely: giving where there is need, integrating where there is exclusion, actively working for mercy and justice in the face of suffering and injustice, making ourselves increasingly available as instruments for God to work through in loving others. Holding our stuff loosely is only sacrificial and painful when we believe and act as if our lives belong to us instead of to God. It is only destabilizing when we lack faith that God will love and care for us as we love and care for others. The image of God manifested through Jesus asks everything of us in return for finding our place in the egalitarian family of God – the kingdom of heaven, in Jesus’ words. It requires a degree of faith and commitment I lack and resist, but I cannot deny its persistent pull, nor can I claim ignorance of what is being asked.

If we believe the Gospels, our following of Jesus is reflected and revealed in the ways we care for those who look and act differently from us.

This is the 8^th 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.