I walked outside this fine morning and was greeted by a blast of arctic air. The temperature gauge reads 12 degrees at my house today. It is called a “cyclone bomb” and has ripped through the United States with fury with an estimated 200 million people affected. I quickly elected not to go deer hunting today and scurried back indoors to the warmth of our home.
I was reminded by this weather of my years of being homeless. When weather like this hit, missions would fill up early leaving those who didn’t get in to fend for us on the street. I have gone in unlocked churches to sleep through the night (that are invariably cold when not being used). I’ve gone to bus stations to try and keep warm and sleep, and if I had money would sit in restaurants sipping a warm drink; however, they would routinely run me out of there if I stayed too long and they thought I was merely trying to escape the brutal cold. Occasionally I would find a house with a stoop or mudroom-type screened-in porch, and I would sneak in there for a while to escape the wind, rain, sleet, or snow. Sometimes I would hitch-hike so I could ride in a warm car, and it didn’t matter where I was heading.
I usually didn’t have much in the way of a warm coat and would wear layers of clothes given to me by the Salvation Army. Thank God for the Salvation Army. They helped me too many times to remember. They spoke to me about Jesus when meals were served but did not lecture me about drugs or alcohol and seemed to have a primary goal of just relieving some of the human misery. To this day every time I pass one of their kettles at a store, I contribute money to this tremendous organization.
My wife and I have been praying daily for the homeless. We pray for their safety and that they might find a shelter, food, and warmth during this harsh winter. I realize that many people think they are just worthless bums who refuse to work and while that is true with some of them, there are plenty who have just fallen on hard times. Some suffered so much abuse they are not mentally well and are coping with their twisted upbringing. Some are trying to escape a violent husband or boyfriend.
No matter the reason for their poverty Jesus loves them and so should we. One time a street preacher was standing on a crate preaching in the heart of the New Orleans French Quarter where I lived. I was dressed shabbily, and I’m sure needed a shower. I had long hair and wore dark sunglasses to hide my eyes where no one could tell I was stoned on meth. I was heading through a park in the French Quarter where street people frequented. I was slowly walking along looking straight ahead and not bothering anyone. Suddenly I heard a man shouting. I turned to look at him and the street preacher was pointing his finger at me and angrily shouted, “If you don’t change your ways, you’re going to hell!” I looked around and saw he was talking to me.
I walked over to him and hit him as hard as I could right in the mouth knocking him off the crate. I then proceeded to pull out a 44-magnum pistol and I told him through clenched teeth that if he ever said anything like that to me again, I would kill him. The pistol was a revolver and I had cocked it and was pointing it right between his eyes. His eyes were wide as saucers, and I would wager to say that he never said something like that again.
Had he taken a different approach and said that I looked like I had something on my mind could he buy me a cup of coffee or a bowl of red beans and rice and talk about it, or maybe ask if he could pray for me, I would have reacted entirely different. No, he had to shout at me judging and finding me guilty of whatever he imagined. I was an atheist at the time and had I died I would have proved him right, but he didn’t know that. I was so mad I was shaking and as I thought of him telling me I was going to hell I was thinking, “How about you first!”
I was a lost sinner doing what lost sinners do. The preacher was a man of God trying to preach to the lost. I wonder which one of us had the greater sin. A Christian who violated God’s laws of condemnation and judging, or a non-Christian doing what non-Christians do? The preacher caused a reaction from me while trying to do a good thing, which was to minister to me to change my sinful ways before it was too late. Unfortunately, his approach was to angrily shout at me having never laid eyes on me and not knowing anything at all about me including my religious convictions. It very nearly got him killed. The effect his actions had upon me was to further entrench my hatred for Christians. Jesus found a way to remove that bitterness and glory to His name for doing so.
We both sinned that day. I don’t know how God viewed it as to whose sin was worse. I would wager to bet that most anyone reading this would say mine was the greater sin. I just say this, we all need to be more compassionate and show mercy to others. We have not walked the proverbial mile in their shoes and cannot begin to imagine what got them to where they are. I will say I have never met anyone who set out with their goal in life to become a drug addict, or a drunk, or a criminal. So, if you see someone freezing on the street maybe give them your coat or help in some other way. This is how the God I know and love desires for us to behave. Come to think of it, that is what Christmas is really about. Christ came to serve mankind and even die for their sins. Mine are forgiven because of what He did.
Merry Christmas!
Luke 6:29
To him who strikes you on the cheek, offer also the other; and from him who takes away your cloak, don’t withhold your coat also.
Have a great weekend and enjoy celebrating the birth of Christ this Holy Week and in particular Sunday