I recently overheard a conversation between some teenagers and a youth worker. The topic was working with the homeless in the inner city - the youth leader had noticed a fear in some of the kids of being downtown, because of issues of crime. Thinking that serving Jesus sometimes involves risk, her idea was that she would help break this fear by organizing some group outreach opportunities - serving at a soup kitchen was suggested.
I was sitting in the room, minding my own business - amused by the various comments of different kids...the girl who is NOT afraid of the city (so she says), the girl who IS afraid of the city (believes only the bad things she's heard), and the boy who will obviously go wherever the two aforementioned girls want to go. I have worked with youth for long enough (and was one recently enough) to find most of this interface familiar and amusing. Ah, the working out of salvation. Starts to get a little bubbly when it comes to serving, to feeding the poor, to sharing Christ's love with
strangers.
I sometimes like to take notice of people when they're not paying attention. I like the thought that while I'm quietly observing, they are going about their lives. I sip my coffee and catch the moment when while his child is occupied with the chocolate filling, the single father's face relaxes, and he is somewhere else entirely. I can't list the number of times where I have witnessed big happenings from the next booth over. Presents, tears, questions, reality checks, pain, life. Life is happening. And I walk with God.
What caught my ears, back in the room with the teens talking about the city, was the comment one of the boys made about the homeless, begging for money. He was cynical, making blanketing statements about how they're all "liars" - that he would never dream of giving any of his money to those "bums" because they're "just going to spend it on alcohol." I watched a mortified youth worker grope for a response to this attitude - where would she even begin to fix everything that's been programmed into this kid's head about "us" and "them" and something about God helping those who help themselves...
Here's the thing: God is concerned with our character, our obedience. He wants us to have his heart - to be conformed into the likeness of Christ. It is going to be messy, it's going to smell bad sometimes, and it is definitely going to be inconvenient to our own agendas and hang-ups. But is he more worth it than clinging to any of that stuff? Is he worth losing everything for?
The problem with what that young man said rests in his small vision. Despite the fact that we are commanded in scripture to give, he has given himself a reason to never do so - just in case the person receiving decides to use it "wrong." It's ok to never give, because there's no way to control for the way in which that gift would be used. And we wouldn't want our money to be used for the wrong thing.
Control. Isn't the point of giving that whatever is given is no longer
yours? To give with conditions, with strings attached, is not giving at all. It completely misses the heart behind the kind of givers Jesus wants us to be. Isn't it better to give , to just give something and let your heart practice freedom from the spirit of greed - and to have obeyed? It is between God and the person on the receiving end of the gift what is done with it. Don't you know that the gift isn't what God is after? He wants the heart of the giver, offering freely what we've been trusted with, and the heart of the stranger - whoever they are.
Love gives. Love looks like blindsiding kindness. If we become the church I believe we are supposed to be, we won't be waiting until we're asked to give. We won't be crossing the street to avoid eye contact with someone who might ask us. We will delight in the opportunity to surrender another $5 to the immeasurable purposes of the Kingdom we 're supposed to be building here.
I had a woman give me money once. It wasn't because I was on the street asking for it, and it wasn't because I looked like I needed it. But I did. I was still new to the city, didn't know that many people, and was wondering how I was going to pay my rent.
One Sunday at church, I was approached by a woman I didn't know, who slipped a wad of cash into my hand. She just looked at me and said, "God told me this was for you." I fumbled, not sure I wanted to receive what this woman was offering. We didn't even know each other. I don't want to glaze over this scene with something shinier than it was - she was awkward about it, sort of odd in her manner, and had horrible breath. Frankly, the thought that she needed the cash more than I did crossed my mind when I looked at her clothes. But her love for Jesus was obvious, and she clearly knew what she was supposed to do to obey him -
and she did it. My pride was throbbing - how could I take this woman's money? How dare she assume I needed it? How can I get out of this situation gracefully? "Well, thank you..." I said, stupidly, and she smiled and walked away.
It was later, in my apartment when I counted the cash that I began to cry. I don't remember the exact figure, but it was close to $100, I think. The fact that I hated admitting my need was something God would deal with me later on - the issue that day was a phrase that kept rolling over and over and over in my head - that He knows me. He knows what I need. I am not forgotten. What I needed, even more than the money (which I really did need), was to know that God had seen me, knew where I was, and was there with me in the middle of my mess. He would even go so far as to send a stranger to let me know that.
Be that stranger. Make up your mind that if you see a need, you will respond. Big or small - whatever. Give it all. Who cares - if it's one more person that gets a clue how deep and how wide and how high the love of Christ is, then
who cares? The kid is right - you can't control for what that money will be used for. That woman that gave me cash? She probably didn't think about the fact that I had dug my own financial hole, and it was years later that I would get a clue how to manage my money. But that wasn't the point. I saw Jesus that day. It interrupted my life, broke into my lonely funk and woke me up on the inside - something I desperately needed. Desperately. I was desperate for a fresh touch of the love of God.
People are desperate all around us. People we don't think need anything we have. The challenge is to be watchful, discerning, and obedient. Respond. We can't let any excuse redirect our focus. We are responsible for what we do on this earth. And what we don't.
