I just finished reading the book Under the Overpass by Mike
Yankoski. He along with his friend Sam
spent a few months on the streets in several different American cities to get a
taste of what homelessness must feel like and to learn something about the
homeless communities.
I had read this book several years ago but a good book is
often worth rereading. It is good to be
reminded that not everyone can live the extravagant life that I do. It was also
good to be reminded that just because someone’s circumstances are less fortunate
than mine does not mean they are less human. It is so easy, in my
self-righteous pride, to look down on others who look different or have less
than I do. In the story it is shocking
and sad how Mike and Sam were sometimes treated by other humans, by churches,
by Christians. There are also examples of kindness and people willing to help
but mostly those who are better off tend to ignore the less fortunate, and then
we try to rationalize our lack of care.
So, how do we care and how do we show people that Jesus
loves them?
Several times in the last few years I’ve seen people holding
signs at stop signs or traffic lights. I
almost always think, ‘I wonder, what Jesus would do for them, how would he help
them?’ and I almost always drive past
and do nothing. Partly because I don’t
know what to do and partly from fear of doing the wrong thing. You see, Jesus knows exactly what they would
need. He would always do the right
thing.
One incident that happened several years ago comes to mind. I was traveling and had stopped at a Sheetz and bought a sandwich. As I was pulling out of the parking lot I noticed
a man with a sign reading “Anything Helps” or something of that nature. And something within me said – “Give him your
food, you don’t really need it”. I
pulled out and left. I did notgive him my food. As I drove away I considered
going back, but I didn’t. I still think
about that man and I still wonder if I should have given him my food.
In Under the Overpass Mike acknowledges that while they
survived on the money that people gave them, that giving cash is not always the
recommended way of helping because many people will spend it on drugs or
alcohol. He suggests giving gift cards for fast food or coffee shops. What really caught my attention though is when he said, “I think the
most meaningful gift might be your genuine attention and caring. It was amazing how much a smile or a quick
hello did for Sam and me on the streets, partly because such kindnesses were so
rare. When someone stopped to talk, even
for a minute, the powerful underlying message was, “I noticed you, you’re a
human being, and you’re worth my time””.
It’s true I often try hard to avoid eye contact. I try to ignore the person, to walk (or
drive) by without noticing.
How hard is it to smile?
Growing in farming country, far from the big cities I never
really saw much homelessness up close and personal. I really never thought about it. When I took mission trips into the big city
it was almost like the homeless were a novelty to be observed. I felt sorry for them. But I don’t really understand the helplessness and
hopelessness they must be feeling, as they stood in line at the soup kitchens.
Living in a foreign country brought the street beggars a
little closer home. I’d sometimes buy some
food for them. I mostly thought in my
self righteous way, that I don’t want to encourage more begging. I’d usually start conversations by asking them
why they did not have a job. One
individual when I asked him why he didn’t have a job, simply answered “I’m crazy”.
Apparently crazy people can’t get jobs?
You know, there’s something a little uncomfortable about
hanging out with beggars and I happen to like my comfort. I remember one time I was killing time in a shopping
mall in Thailand when a young girl latched on to me. She let me know she was hungry and would I
buy her some food.
Sure. I’ll buy you
some food, but since this is a shopping mall and most of the food is more
pricey inside why don’t we go outside and I’ll get you some rice and some
street food. She would have none of
that, nothing by spaghetti from Pizza Hut would do and trying to convince her
that “if” she was hungry noodles from outside would suffice was to no avail. (Apparently
beggars can be choosers, sometimes) So
to Pizza Hut we went. We sat and waited for spaghetti. It seems like
it was a long wait. We talked some and she wandered around some. I believe she even ventured out to the
kitchen. Meanwhile I was feeling slightly uncomfortable, surrounded by those who
could afford Pizza Hut, while keeping company with a girl who wandered around
in places I wasn’t sure guests were supposed to be.
So why is it uncomfortable to be kind? Why do I care what
others think? It’s pride. It’s because I have forgotten that I myself
am a poor and needy beggar. At the foot
of the cross of Jesus the ground is level and I too bring my brokenness, ugliness and my unkempt
self. I’m completely helpless to save
myself and change my ways except for the kindness and love of Jesus. We are all in desperate need of a
Savior. We're in need of mercy and grace and I
am so glad that Jesus did not walk past without taking notice of me. In coming to Jesus we all start out at the same place. A place of great need.
Yankoski, M. (2010). Under the Overpass. Colorado
Springs: Multnoma Books
