A Sandwich For Jesus

When I was a kid, we'd go to my grandma's house in western Minnesota and she'd tell stories about men that would ride into town on the empty railcars looking for something to eat during the Depression. Some painted or scratched markings in to the telephone poles to let others know they were welcome in someone's home or to stay away. Every time we visited grandma, I'd ask my dad to take me around town and show me where the etchings were. To me, these seemed like ancient hyroglyphics.  (Dad also showed me where he and a few friends carved their initials in a neighbor's garage siding, which left me amazed that my dad was once a kid and that he did something like this).

A few short months ago, my heart was turned toward reading "The Hole In Our Gospel" by Richard Stearns, "The Generous Life" by Vince Miller, and several other books on justice and generosity. 

Each day on the way to work, I drove past the same man at the intersection of Stinson and 35W.  You've seen him or someone like him before:  Holding a cardboard sign, stating "Veteran out of work.  God bless you" or "Out of work and homeless" or something similar.

Who is this man?  Is he really out of work and homeless?  An addict?  A grifter?  I was compelled to find out more and even provide for him in some way. 

As I drove by one morning, Matthew 25:40 came to mind:  "Lord, when did we ever see you sick or hungry or thirsty or a stranger or in prison and did not help you?"  "I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me."

A growing sense of neglect nagged me each time I drove by, which was quickly replaced by my own justification for not helping.  I checked my pocket - no cash today.  "That's OK.  He'll probably buy booze with it anyway.  He should be in detox or Harbor Lights."  If it was Christmas, one would think I was Scrooge with a comment like that.

(Now, I know many reading this are saying I'm encouraging the man's behavior; that he can't be on the street corner legally; that I'm doing him a disservice; if we all provided food or cash, more would show up. Frankly, I don't think God is looking for me to ignore the man because of how I think he'll use the funds I provide, but where my heart is; if I give gladly; if I'll help one in need and help in obedience)

I began searching for ways other than cash to help, so I drove to the nearest Subway and purchased a gift card for $20.  That way, I reasoned, the man had to spend it on food.

As I approached the intersection, I checked my rearview mirror - good - no traffic behind me.  Closer still, the semaphor at the intersection turned red - perfect for speaking to the man and handing off the promise of four $5 footlongs. 

Still no cars behind, but the light turned green.  Rolling down the window, I yelled, "I have something for you!"  The man held an open hand up to his ear and yelled back, "Heh?" Great.  He's deaf.  Another quick look in the mirror - still no cars.  "Here!  I have something for you!" I repeated louder.  The man's response was the same, and suddenly there were a dozen cars behind me - I'm the first car stopped at a green light.  Embarassing.

"Here!  Take this and get yourself a sandwich!" I yelled in frustration before speeding ahead.

As I drove away, I couldn't help but wonder and chuckle:  I just told Jesus to go buy a sandwich.

The homeless often seem to be nameless, but when the man introduced himself as James, his humanity, brokenness, and troubles became very real.  We visited a few times on an adjacent street corner - it turns out that he's is a Vietnam veteran, in and out of detox, lost his wife to cancer, and is wandering.  He admitted his addiction to alcohol was something he couldn't shake. 

I asked if I could pray with him.  As we held hands, I prayed, "Daddy, I'm here with my brother James.  You planned this - that we would talk, because you've put us together today.  You know that James needs something to eat; not just Subway, but food of life.  He want's to replace his addiction with you, Lord.  We thank you for your goodness, your compassion, your love.  Lead James to what he needs and James, you listen to the Lord.  Amen."

James disappeared after that day, but others have replaced his vacant corner.  My only hope is that James has moved on to be led by God.

Since then, others have received several day's worth of food as my heart softened.  In fact, I've seen other cars stopped at the same location handing off one or two Target grocery bags.  Maybe the driver was frustrated over some dingdong handing off a gift card while stopped at a green light?

Each day, we have choices to make, and only a handful turn into defining moments in our lives.  Sometimes the divine moments are those that are undetected in the routine, everyday life we live.  Perhaps the divine moments come at the most inconvenient times, like at a green traffic light.  Maybe these moments seem like interruptions and we get a bit upset for the inconvenience.

Maybe this is what Jesus was talking about:  Being so wrapped up and busy and self-righteous that we put others beneath us; that we ignore his brothers and sisters.  In doing so, we've ignored him.

- What does the book of James in the Bible say about faith?
- How can we serve the poor, widows, orphans, prisoners?
- Where am I ignoring Jesus, and how do I become more aware of the divine moments?