It Doesn't Matter

Hello everyone. It has been a crazy end of November/beginning of December! I hope the holidays have been going well for all of you!

Today I wanted to write not so much about anything I've been doing in the city, but more about some of the things I've been learning and processing while doing ministry. As most of you know, at CSM we work to educate mission trip groups on the issues facing the inner-city, as well as God's heart for the poor. In doing this, we strive to break down stereotypes and (in a certain sense) shock the students into seeing the homeless as people who are just like them.

When society thinks of the homeless, a lot of expressions like "get a job" or "drug addict" are commonly associated with the epidemic. Part of my job as a host is to get students to see beyond those stereotypes and see the failings of a broken system, or an overpriced world. Many times it feels like I am trying to convey the message that it's not the homeless fault that their homeless- they're victims, they're good people, and Jesus has a special place in his Kingdom for the poor. I mean, so many of them will say "God bless" when we give them a meal at a soup kitchen- they must be good, albeit misunderstood, people!

What I've been realizing is that while the obviously negative stereotypes we sometimes hold against the homeless are untrue, those positive, almost saintlike visions are also incorrect.

The truth is, as I've been working with the poor in Chicago, I have realized that they are quite similar to me- they're rude, deceptive, short-tempered, they lie, and they have a capacity to try on the last nerve of this particular urban missionary. Just two days ago, one of the women at the cafe blatantly lied to me about when she had visitation hours- attempting to manipulate me into giving her a visitation so she could receive money from her nephew. The women in the program are not allowed to have visitors except on Saturdays and they are not allowed to keep any money on their person. Being new, I was unaware of these rules, and was exceptionally irritated when I learned that she had lied to me.

I've met a few homeless individuals who are definitely perpetuating stereotypes. They show up to the shelters drunk, or they spend their last few dollars on cigarettes. It's pathetic and it's irritating and it's an obvious example of a destructive habit that landed these men and women in a terrible life situation.

In fact, most of the people I have been working with during my time in Chicago have not been the helpless homeless victims that we in urban ministry would love to show off. It's easy to love a single mother who was fleeing from an abusive marriage and ended up on the streets out of desperation. Compassion comes easily because these people have done nothing wrong- they deserve our love and help.

The funny thing is, the more I get to know the homeless and the poor, and the more I hear people debate whether homelessness and poverty are caused by a system or by individual failings, the more I've come to realize that it does not matter. It doesn't matter WHY someone is in that line at the soup kitchen and it doesn't matter what circumstances caused that guy to walk up and down the intersection with his cardboard sign. I've yet to find a passage in scripture that dictates that we love people who have been screwed over and scorn those that have done it to themselves. If you find it, let me know.

Instead, I find a graceful God that demands compassion for ALL PEOPLE. The truth is, if I'm going to be genuine in my faith and call myself a Christian, I need to be ready to glorify God in all situations. This means that when the people I'm working with disappoint me, I don't get the option of giving up on them and moving on to a more deserving project. These are people, and they are just like us- they are sinful, messed up people who feel the exact same emotions, internal conflicts, and loneliness that we have all felt at one time. They share the same kind of joys, the same kind of pain. Why/how they ended up where we find them is just one unique aspect of their story. And while we need to strive to understand that part of their lives, it should never shape our response to them. Love becomes the only response. And not cheesy, greeting card love- no, this is compassionate, deep, invested love. This is love that keeps reaching out even when walls go up, or people disappoint.

The ins and outs, the hows and whys- they don't matter. What does matter is our response. What's yours?