They Have Something I Want

Sometimes when I see all of the Facebook posts, Tweets, events, blogs, etc going on and on about social justice and things that we need to take a stand for or against, I wonder if it’s just a cool idea many of us have gotten caught up into. I see that it’s actually easy to get so passionate about doing, that we forget why and who we’re doing it for. If not in the name of Jesus, if not out of love, then it doesn’t really matter.

I could go on about that topic, but that’s for another time. But I’m one of those people who posts a lot of that social justice stuff. Why? That’s what I just asked myself recently, checking my motives. And as I thought about it, I believe my heart and motives are pure. But why do so many of us seem to be getting caught up in social activism and justice, etc? Maybe there’s some aspect of it that’s getting trendy and cool, but the other day, I had a series of conversations and interactions that reminded me why I’m passionate about serving ‘the least of these’ and why so many others are as well. And not just because it's trendy.



 I’d just talked to Roland, a homeless man I know who I’m trying to help get home to his family this winter to have a place to stay. It was brief, and incredibly inconvenient (making me late to work), but telling him that I’d gotten the money to send him home was a great joy (thanks to those who donated to make it happen!).  His surprise and that all he needed to do was gather up a small bag of belongings and he'd be ready to go, and his simple contentment as he told me about his $11.21 Southern food meal that he would get later at a local joint to fill him up brought a smile to my face.

Later on, as I left the grocery store, a teenage boy stopped me to ask for $.50. I had to ask more, about why he was there and what he needed help for, and we talked a bit about how he’d “F’d” up and been kicked out a year ago, and homeless since. But he said it was pretty easy to get the money for his motel room by asking people, and he didn’t seem to worried about things. He had $20 left to get, but all he’d asked for was $.50…

Later that night I spent a while on the phone with a friend from Hollywood, someone who’s been homeless for a long time and just trying to stay sober and clean and figure out how God fits in his life. He went on and on about how God provides for every one of his needs, takes care of him, keeps him sober and sane when he can’t do it himself. He said that he’s at peace and not worried, because he sees God continually provide even in the smallest ways, and knows that God takes care of his children just as any good father would.
When my tone expressed worry about him, he corrected me saying, "you're worrying about things you don't have control over. Don't worry!"

Today I read an article about Mark Horvath, a man I met a few weeks ago who’s raising a lot of awareness about homelessness because he used to be homeless. He’s used his last money at times, and given away belongings to others in need even though he himself was in need and homeless, or just barely out of homelessness. Because he knew he had to help, and if he didn’t maybe no one would.


As I reflected on these stories, I thought of one more I'd just read in the book “Same Kind of Different as Me” by Ron Hall and Denver Moore. It's about a wealthy, white couple who started volunteering at a rescue mission and how that changed their lives through the people they met. I saw a lot of myself in that book, and I looked back at a few page corners I’d turned down while reading and re-read this portion that so reminded me of me:

“I marveled at the intricate tapestry of God's providence. Deborah, led by God to deliver mercy and compassion, had rescued this wreck of a man who, when she fell ill, in turn became her chief intercessor. For nineteen months, he prayed through the night until dawn and delivered the word of God to our door like a kind of heavenly paperboy. I was embarrassed that I once thought myself superior to him, stooping to sprinkle my wealth and wisdom into his lowly life."

Luckily, over the past few years, this pride in me has diminished significantly (though it still lingers and rears its ugly head more than I'd like to admit). I don't think myself superior to others...most of the time, anyway. But sometimes I catch myself in a moment that brings out pride and allows me to be honest and see that, yes, I think I have wisdom to sprinkle into someone's life that they couldn' t possibly have. And perhaps it's true, maybe I have wisdom they don't. But very similarly, they have much wisdom that I don't. When they share it with me, that's when I'm embarrassed at my thinking. I see they've grasped and been given understanding that I have not been able to acheive or understand. They often know things about life and God that I still have so much yet to learn.


Just like Ron Hall…sometimes those of us who have worked hard and persevered to get what we want, and have the "perfect life" and are always striving to do more, end up in a place of pride and judgement. We think we have the right way, we think we have everything and know it all. But when we spend time with those who are so different form us, we get to see God in a new way. I get to see child-like faith that I long for. I’m humbled by those who have “nothing” and yet trust God for everything, while I have “everything” and yet worry about losing it or not having enough.


When I spend time with the poor, orphans, widows, needy, I see who Christ wants me to become. No, not homeless or orphaned…but someone who expresses the type of faith that they so often live their life by. I want to be more like Jesus. And when I’m with these people, I catch a glimpse of what that looks like. I see faith lived out. I see generosity and love and wisdom.


It’s not always easy to swallow that I can be corrected by someone that I think I’m so much ‘wiser’ than. But as I read today, God opposes the proud and exalts the humble. I want to be more like Christ…I think all Christians do.


So why do some of us get so passionate about the causes of the poor, needy and outcasts? Yes, because Jesus tells us to. But also because in these conversations we see something in them that we want, that Jesus wants for us. 


 Today I read this in a random book at my desk: “Those who seek for much are left in want of much. Happy is the person to whom God has given, with sparing hand, as much as is enough” –Horace.


I think so many people seek to change the world, because as we do so, God changes us as well.