Bursting with Questions

I believe it was Oscar Romero who said, “When I feed the poor they call me a saint, when I ask why the poor are poor they call me a communist.” I don’t know if I got that quote exactly right but it is close. That is my question. Why are the poor poor? I took McDonalds to “the guys” (from now on “the guys” will be a reference to the homeless people I visit) yesterday. After watching the documentary “Super Size-Me” I think I probably shouldn’t have but it’s cheap and it’s close. Shy walked with me to get the food, she told me about her hip, her sister who works for an insurance company in Dallas, and… wait… you have family? (I thought to myself). How is that possible? I was overwhelmed with curiosity. What is your story Shy?... I didn’t actually ask the question but I’m dying to know.

I have so many assumptions about why they are in the position they are in, that I fear to ask them any questions.

You are homeless because you choose this.

You are homeless because you are a crack head.

You are homeless because of bad decisions.

The list goes on, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has assumed such things.

At the same time, I am researching all the different ministries and non-profit organizations and government aide that are focused on homelessness in Austin TX. There are a bunch, more than I expected. Why then with all this money, and all these people and all these resources are there still homeless people in Austin? My quest for the next month is to make contact with every group or organization that is involved in this effort and get informed.

I have questions (if anyone else has a question I haven’t thought about please let me know).

1. What is your budget?

2. Where does that come from?

3. Who do you partner with?

4. What are your goals for 2008?

5. Why with all these other groups involved in the same effort are there still homeless people in Austin?

My guess is I’m going to get radically different answers, especially to question 5. It is a place to start. From there I can assess where to go next I suppose.

Back to “the guys”, they were so gracious for the food. We sat at a picnic table outside HEB and talked about the Cowboys. They talked about leaving this area. Suprising to me, I assumed with the congestion here at the Y in Oak Hill this was a prime location for getting hand outs. I was wrong. “the guys” say that most everyone jammed up in traffic are trying to get home or where ever they are going and are ticked off that traffic is so bad (and let me tell you it is bad, sometimes it takes me 10 minutes just to get out of the parking lot). So the last thing anyone wants to see or care about is someone at the corner asking for help. Funny I thought. “the guys” see you/me all ticked off in the car, and they know, “there goes my lunch!” Well…that’s not so funny…but…well…that’s all I got.

Dont know what I'm doing

It is a funny thing to leave your empire of comfort and indifference and strike out on a course to be a light, to deliver a message to a broken world. By that I mean leaving my world of comfort and indifference to be with, love, and minister to (no doubt be ministered by) the homeless. Why do I feel called to such a mission? I don’t know, perhaps it has to do with proximity, or my own obsession with success and wealth. Perhaps it is because I’m the guy who looks the other way at the stop light, or because I’m the guy who says, “Get your act together and get a job!” Whatever the reason, it is probably the least thing I want to do while at the same time being the thing that I feel will make the most difference in my life. Not that I’m doing it for selfish ambition, I hope you understand.

So last Friday after work, I took some Jason’s Deli over to a group of homeless people who were finding some rest in the afternoon. Terry, James, Mack, and Shy. The first thing Shy says to me as I am being introduced is, “This is my girlfriend, Shy.” Ha. There was a lot of trepidation building up to the decision to go through with this plan to be a minister to homeless. What would I say? What would they say? What would they do or think? Would they yell at me, hurt me, rob me, or abuse me? I’m a big guy, but quite the coward it seems.

Of course there was the curious apprehension in their eyes as I walked up and offered my Jason’s Deli meal. “Sorry I only brought one” I said. But they were welcoming, polite hospitable as we sat on the curb of a closed Double Daves. While they were smoking cigarettes and drinking beer (not unlike some of my ministry friends) I struck up a conversation about UT Football. That really broke the ice and got them talking as if they had been dying to tell someone about what they thought about the situation the BCS was in (thank God for the universal language of Football).

I asked them about where they were from and what brought them to Austin. I suppose my theory is to keep it superficial. Build trust. I suppose I need them to know that I am here because of the love of Jesus which I intend to embody in their presence. And…that is about as far as I have gotten on that one. That is my only plan. I am interested to hear if anyone who has some experience here can help me think of something that I’m missing.

I am dying to ask two questions that I feel at this moment need to wait. First: How did you get in this situation? Second: Do you want to get out?

The first question will take some time, but has to do with their story. The second is the more pressing question for me, but really at no consequence. Do you want to leave this? If they say yes, which my guess is they will say yes even if they really don’t mean it; by that I mean it is not as simple as, “I’m a bum? Well, lets change that!!!”, but there are years and years of engrained behavior, experience, and worldview which has produced their current predicament (or so I think) which one could easily say, yes I want to change that with out realizing the extant to which that means. If they say yes I want to change then, boom, I’m in action motivated to empower them and myself to do something about this, which in fact is what I hope will happen…It would be so glorious. However, if they say No, I suppose what I will have to do is love them all the same. Continue to pursue them as God pursues me. Continue to pour out love, patience, faithfulness until hopefully they do decide to be rescued. I could be completely seeing this the wrong way, and I am completely open to being enlightened to that fact. But it is what I’m currently thinking about the ministry.

The last paragraph is packed full of a lot of theological anthropology, worldview, belief and possibly a million other things that I am not even aware of. It certainly needs some unpacking in the near future.

The Beginning

This is the first posting of a blog about my experience, my working through the theology, my efforts to follow God’s calling to hear the cry of the oppressed in my world. This began when I first listen to Rob Bell’s, “The New Exodus” series. This is a compelling, life changing reading of the Old Testament which echoes profoundly in the new. Ultimately, Rob characterizes God as the God who hears the cry of the oppressed.

Over the course of this blog I want to do two things. I want to continue to flesh out what it means to hear the cry of the oppressed. I want to explore what it means to follow the Jesus who prays, “Your Kingdom come, your will be done ON EARTH as it is in heaven.” Secondly, I want to share my experience as I try to live this out by ministering to homeless people who live near the office where I work.

What is driving me is the belief that the church should not be just concerned with oppressed peoples spiritual needs, but their physical needs as well. Things like dignity, shelter, food, clothes, love, education, are basic things that every person needs but not every person gets. It seems that no matter what, my brother was going to succeed. In many ways, it is just who he is. But I on the other hand struggled to find my place in this world, if that makes any sense. If it were not for some great men who reached out and guided me, I could easily be in some bad places. And regardless, I always knew that no matter how bad I messed up, my family would always be there to help me get back on my feet. A lot of people don’t have that kind of support. In my opinion, for those who don’t… the church should be Jesus for them. No matter how long it takes, no matter how many times they mess up, the body of Christ ought to be there to love them, serve them, and support them.

It is my intention to be that for 6 or so homeless people in live and beg out side the doors of my office is south Austin. I would love to hear from anyone who is doing something similar. Most of all I need your prayers. I haven’t the slightest idea, how to begin.