The Homeless

"Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?"
Isaiah 58:7

At the beginning of our internships, we were given business cards for the Love Kitchen (which serves free dinner every weekday from 4:30 until 6pm) to give out to homeless people we encountered on the street. I had a whole stack in my wallet that sat virtually untouched for three weeks; in my daily travels from the Bronx to Manhattan, there are no homeless people. They don’t really hang out down in the corporate empire, since no one will even look at them, nor do they frequent the ghetto where people might not even have anything to offer them. They’re just somewhere else.

My new friend Jon Kwan, from Hong Kong, asked me for some of the business cards the weekend before last, because he had run out. As I gave him half of my stack, I noted my lack of transient encounters. He pleasantly assured me that they were out there. We parted ways for the weekend, and I prayed God would give me the opportunity to bless someone with the knowledge of the Love Kitchen. God had unmistakeably heard my request...

During a Chinatown excursion one weekend, my new friends and I saw two homeless men near the subway. Without even really thinking about it, I slowed our group down to talk to them. We told them about the Love Kitchen, and we prayed for them. It was a strange interaction, because it was so quick and to the point. Their situation wasn’t necessarily on my mind, I just figured I’d be obedient; I asked God to cross our paths, He did, so I would direct them towards nourishment.

I saw two more homeless men on the following Sunday, during a day of introspection. Once again, I figured I’d obey Jesus’ command to feed the hungry. The first one was right after I got out of the subway. I had really high hopes for this encounter, because this skinny little man gave me a big a hug and told me that I was the only one who had ever stopped to listen to him. He was allegedly diabetic and had stomach cancer, and was apparently starving. I offered to buy him some food from the cafe we were standing outside of, but he refused my offer and just continued to beg for money. I went inside the cafe to "get some cash from the ATM", but really to look at the menu, and came out again to make my final offer. I told him that I would treat him to lunch, but I would not give him money. The man pretended to cry and then stormed away, furious that I would not entertain his request.

I sent Jon Walton a discouraged text message, reporting my failure, but was met with a proverbial "plenty of other fish in the sea" kind of response, noting that there were 36,000 other homeless men and women I could potentially bless. Closer by to the park, was my chance at redemption sitting outside Chipotle. A man was sitting on the sidewalk, with a cardboard sign indicating his hunger. Without any introduction, I asked the man if he liked chicken and proceeded to buy him a burrito. He gratefully accepted.

The night we found George, we also ran in to another man sitting with a sign indicating his needs. At first, we weren't going to stop, because we obviously had our hands full with our poor intoxicated 17-year-old. Still, Jesus' words rung in our heads, so we stopped for a shirtless tattooed man named Jeremy. He was covered in sweat and was bobbing back and forth with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. We asked him if he needed any help; he had been blessed with food and water from other strangers earlier, but he would appreciate prayer for his newly diagnosed cancer. We laid hands on him, prayed for healing and gave him a Love Kitchen card in case he ever needed food. He thanked us with a drunken smile and bid us goodnight.

During Feed 500, I opted out of any active service. I was exhausted from the week, and I was still recovering from my cold, and it was unbelievably hot outside. I decided to sit in the shade with our “customers”. I ended up having a really cool time talking to this delightfully cheerful guy named Sydney. He was from North Carolina, and came up to New York when he in his twenties. Sometime along the way, he met Jesus and changed his life. He talked a lot about the evils of hatred and racism, and how we are all God's children. He loved history, martial arts, his 7-year-old daughter, and playing mafia wars on facebook. Apparently, he was having some trouble with his daughter's mother not letting him see her, so my friend Niki and I prayed for him.

Ask and you shall recieve. I was truly challenged and blessed by these interactions. While I loved to see these men's faces light up with appreciation whenever they were noticed, I couldn't help but think that these kinds of encoutners should probably be normal for the Christian life...

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.
Matthew 25:34-36

Interestingly enough, when you look at Matthew 25:34-36 in the original Greek, an aorist tense is used when noting the various activities believers have done. This tense, not featured in the Enlgish language, doesn't indicate a time but rather a perpetual condition. Jesus didn't mean for us to do these things as a task once, or even a couple times, but rather a part of life. I'd like to humbly submit that Jesus was talking about a lifestyle of feeding the hungry, of clothing the naked and caring for the sick. Something as normal as a handshake or holding the door open for someone.

I want this to be a normal interaction for me.