Just days after I had returned, I had heard complaints of not having first class on a thirty minute flight, the long lines at Walmart and unending traffic. I simply rolled my eyes and muttered, "First world problems...." But after the church service, I had finally received a light at the end of the tunnel, maybe I could find my place in the States after a life-altering experience in Africa.
As the congregation and I started towards our cars, we all encountered a homeless man, woman and their dog. Seeing the reaction of the people ahead of me in the bustling crowd, you would have assumed they were invisible. No one seemed to notice the pain-staking pneumonia cough of the woman, the numerous ribs protruding from the dog, or the white toes that popped out of the worn out shoes of the man. They simply brushed past them, for differing reasons that I didn't understand.
Having no fear or discomfort of homeless people, I casually walked up to them after being much inspired to encourage my neighbor. I had learned to truly look in the widow's, the homeless man's, the cripple's, and the elderly's eye and listen. To know their story, to learn from them and simply love as Christ does.
After being introduced to Rose, Chris and Tango (the dog), I was pushed and brushed by the moving crowd. I had now become one of 'the others,' one that didn't seem to exist. We received a few sideways glances, but were formally ignored. As a middle class, white American living in Colorado, being out of place was hard to come by for me. I had become an 'other' and didn't know what to think. I ended my conversation with Rose and Chris, a short 30 minutes later by encouraging them to stop by the homeless shelter where I volunteered with the Salvation Army on Wednesday nights. They could receive a hot meal, we could talk more and I could learn more of Rose's jokes. They promised to attend, unless something came up.
As I left, I was puzzled, they never asked me for money, they didn't tell me a sob story, or any of the other stereotypical homeless generalizations. Chris was reserved and shy, while Rose was a boisterous character. They were true people; they weren't homeless people, they were people that didn't have a home. They were a person first and foremost. I didn't like being invisible or being given sideways glances by middle class Christians, who had just sat in the same church service I had. I was enraged, how could these wonderful people like Rose and Chris be labeled as the outcasts of society? How could the 'Christians' who had just been challenged to step outside of their comfort zone and love their neighbor forget and reject what they just heard? Why weren't they the outcasts?
God once again challenged me, wasn't I doing the same thing? I stepped out of that service thinking I was doing the right thing and talking to Rose, Chris and petting a grungy looking dog. In the end, I was just as hypocritical as the Christians, I was holding bitterness in my heart for my neighbor. In Leviticus 19:18 it states, "You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself..." It was easy for me to love one neighbor, but I bore a grudge against my view of the hypocritical Christian, when I was being even more of a hypocrite.
Since volunteering and now working for Experience Mission, I have been faced with societies 'others.' As a summer staff member on the Navajo Reservation this summer, I know I will be faced with uncomfortable situations and possibly facing my 'other.' God has called us to meet his people where they are in life. Whether it is the elderly Navajo widow who needs a new roof, the bare footed child, or the middle class Christian, God calls us to love our neighbor; warts and all.
No comments:
Post a Comment