Conversation Point

In This Moment

Who Are The Homeless?

Stories of generous support to the victims hit hardest by Hurricane Katrina's fury, those who have literally lost everything, including their homes, are being shared in news reports and articles across the United States and around the world. From merchandise gift cards to new jobs to open doors to new homes, we have shown ourselves to be a nation ready to care for each other in times of need.

But there are many more homeless people in need of support who will never be heard, let alone helped with offerings of clothing, food or shelter. These are the homeless poor who lived among us before Katrina hit, and who still reside among us today.

An article in my local newspaper raised this issue, that we as a nation are very good at rising to the occasion to help in a crisis. Our own instincts for survival couple with strong feelings of compassion to create the outpouring of financial and humanitarian aid that we are witnessing. But on a day-to-day basis, we become complacent, focused on our own needs and desires because we feel we cannot impact the problems of poverty or homelessness in any significant way.

Perhaps we also do not feel the reality of what it truly means to be homeless, particularly due to circumstances that are not so readily apparent as a natural disaster. We understand crisis, a split-second shift in time in which our lives are permanently converted. But to simply not have the same place to come back to each day after school, or each evening after work, is not a tangible concept for most of us, and it makes us very uncomfortable to consider. Rather than explore the fear, desperation or loneliness of that experience, we blame the homeless for putting themselves in the position in which they find themselves. A thought from a book by Jack London that I read as a child sticks with me, that someone who is warm cannot understand someone who is cold. I suspect it is partly because we fear the cold ourselves in one form or another.

Another consideration, for ourselves, is how much we feel at home in our own faith. Is your faith something you come home to every day, attend to its upkeep and care, do repair work when necessary? Do you use all the rooms, welcome friends and family in to share the hospitality? Are you grateful for its presence in your life, for its shelter, warmth and security? Or do you assume it will always be there when you come back to it, regardless of how you choose to treat it? Faith is like a house in that, if you ignore it, it will eventually deteriorate to the point that it will go away. Spiritual homelessness can leave a pretty big pit of desperation in the bottom of our stomachs too. We may not clearly remember how we got there, but we know we don't want to stay, and we aren't always sure how to move ourselves out.

Hence the Christian belief of doing to others as we would like someone to do for us. Hence the second great commandment to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Perhaps we can learn not to be so harsh with ourselves when we fall. In so doing we may also learn to not blame others for where they stand, but be willing to extend a hand to help them up. Yes, the poor and the homeless will always be with us. And that is the point. They are with us, not for us or against us, but a part of us. Mercy and grace, love and kindness are not crisis supplements, but ongoing staples in the pantry of faith. God is in charge of restocking these, so, have no fear. The pantry is full. We can each use as much as we need or want.

Until next time, God's blessings.

posted by Cory L. Kemp @ 7:28 AM