Lone Ranger Sunday

I woke up in time for church. Walked to the kitchen and set the coffee grinds, poured in six cups of clear, filtered water. I pushed the button and as the coffee maker gurgled I turned on the shower and stepped in. Nothing unusual here. Just my normal morning schedule. But when I stepped out of the shower it was too late. Way too late. On average I spent 7-10 min in the shower. Today it was 45 min. This took up my entire time to get dressed and make breakfast. So here I am sitting at home on Sunday morning.

Now why did my shower take so long? Because sometimes my shower time is when I can think. I see why baptism revolves around water and word. Water is so clarifying. So clean. I must have just stood under the hot water letting it wash over my hair and down my body. I don’t think I spent that much time shampooing. There’s no way. I stood there and thought about my Jesus. OK not MY Jesus, but EVERYONE’S Jesus.

I thought about how Jesus was homeless. Really. Truly. He relied on the kindness of strangers to put him up for the night. I’m sure many blessings fell upon those hospitable Jews. I wondered what I would do if a scruffy Arab walked up to my door with twelve more scruffy Arabs asking if they could have some food and a place to stay. In payment they’d offer me some great parables that I may or may not understand. I’d liked to say that I’d fling open the door and prepare the fattened calf (or a big bowl of pasta). But I doubt I would do such a thing. Especially in a Post-9-11 world.

I mean I can barely get my behind out the door to go serve homeless people in a safe, controlled setting. I feel awkward about the whole situation. Plus haven’t I been taught about the “worthy poor” for my life time? Some people are more worthy of help than others. I mean hey, most of those homeless people have choosen to be that way so who cares about them….right? RIGHT?

Completely disturbed by my frustrations regarding the homeless, and a little annoyed after a sour discussion about serving the homeless with one of my best friends (this person just end our meal after I started this discussion) I threw on some clothes and walked to McDonalds to grab a cheap breakfast sandwich. (I wonder what the people in the drive through think when they see me at Micky D’s with my “Texas Organic Farmers and Growers Association” bumper sticker…but what can I say, I’m a sucker for a good sausage biscuit).  As I pull away, I get the urge to call my  mom. I love my mom. She’s awesome. I love her the older I get too. I’m getting past the teenage distrust of all things that comes from an “old person’s” mouth. I realize that she has many more years under her belt. And she realizes she still has a lot to learn. I realize I still have A WAY HECK OF A LOT to learn. So we try to learn together.

Anyway, she’s alone this morning too as my dad had to run into town for business. They had a horrific church experience this past year so they are taking a break from the organized fellowship thing. We start chatting about homeless people. We realize that for a long time they were a group, not humans, in our mind. It’s easy to villify people as a group. It’s comfortable. We don’t have to see them as people with stories as to why they got to that homeless stage in their life. They don’t have feelings when they are easily dismissed as a disturbed people group who chooses to be that way. Or so we thought.

Recently we have had to deal with a family member who struggles to keep their life on track. This person is stubborn and angry at the world (especially Christians, of course) and would rather live on the streets than admit that they need anyone to help them. This person is a very talented person, with a problem. This problem keeps them from functioning normally in society (honestly why did the rest of the business minded world decide what was normal…artistic types find their way normal but the world doesn’t so they can get screwed over at times). After dealing with this person we see homeless people in a new light. My mom and I agreed that we constantly wonder why said homeless people are where they are in their lives. What addiction drove them there? Or are they mentally disturbed and left to die by family members who cannot take care of a handicapped person? Were they horrified by something that left so many scars they can barely proceed through a day and thus sit trembling under a bridge? Why are they there?

Once you see homelessness up close you realize that many of these people have ligit problems. They also feel. They also hunger. They also ache for love. They are human beings and Christ died for them as well as for me.

Lately, I’ve noticed in Christ’s tale that he doesn’t just help the worthy. If that was the case we’d all be left homeless when it came to the afterlife. We tend to say we don’t want to help certain people because they might abuse the help. Well plenty of people abused Christ’s help. And He had a front row ticket to their thoughts and could see that later on many of them would turn on Him and demand from Pilate that He be crucified. Yet he loved them and saw them worthy of God’s Love. As a gentile I see how amazing  this love that isn’t picky really is. If I had lived three thousand years ago I would not have had the opportunity to receive salvation. I would not have been part of God’s choosen people. My heritage has no Jewish in it…well unless you go way way way way back to Noah starting the population over again. I’m pure gentile. And I am offered free salvation because Christ finds every person on this green earth worthy.

Why do I see myself as a better judge of who can receive help than Christ? It is easy to judge when one has a job and eats everyday and sits on an expensive sofa. But when confronted by the perfect and compassionate humanity of Christ and my flawed, sin-filled humanity, I am humbled and embarrased by my own lack of compassion. I am amazed by Christ’s love. It is a love that I am called to imitate as a Daughter of the Most High.

In today’s church…well and most of the history of the church…we tend to explain away these things. But really if you just take Christ’s word for what He says, it seems easy. OK easy to understand, but still in many ways hard to implement. Or maybe it’s not maybe that’s just more excuses. Trust me I’m full of them. Many times Christ refers to our faith as that of a childs. I think we’ve missed the boat on this. We have complicated our faith many times over. Christ says “let your yes be yes and your no be no”. He speaks about meaning what you say. Don’t you think if He said that He’d talk that way too? So I guess it’s time to stop complicating His speech in our own minds. Maybe we should just take His word for it. Maybe we should have a simple faith.

Faith doesn’t just sit on the couch and read the Bible. Faith goes out and pours into the community. Jesus did take personal time to regroup. It’s important. But He spent a whole lot of time out and about pour Himself out into people who didn’t really appreciate Him. I think we individualistic Americans have turned our faith into an individualistic faith. It’s all about spending alone time with God and reading the Bible I mean we took Jesus and said to non-believers “Come find you’re OWN PERSONAL JESUS!” I think Johnny Cash even wrote a song about it. Jesus and faith in Him seems to be less about humanity as a whole and more about individual choices and habits. And morality. The first Christians didn’t even have a bible and yet they seemed to love each other and Christ so much they would die for it. And they did. We’ve made faith an intellectual thing not an active thing. It needs to be active. I think that’s why the first christians loved each other so much. It’s hard to hate people you are serving. Especially if you see how much Christ served us who are so undeserving. The spiritually poor…I’m glad he doesn’t see us as unworthy.

Peace and Blessings.