Can we talk?

Bottled Water

    I walk on the other side of the road from my university job in order to avoid the panhandlers. The side I was using is more direct, fewer crossovers; but I'm on a limited budget, and I have a hard time refusing beggars. I walk there, as a matter of fact, to save money on parking, to get to the bus station for my bus. It's a half hour walk, good exercise. It kills time I would be sitting on a crowded trolley getting to the bus station. But I manage despite my age and health limitations. Healthy looking, younger men approach occasionally on that side of the busy street to give me a sad story of how long they've been homeless and they just need a dollar or even 75 cents. I always search my wallet. How can I turn someone down if I have it?

    I resent it because I work two jobs and do without things to meet my budget. Someone else in better shape than I can be a bum and beggar and ask me for money. They don't look like guys who are just down on their luck temporarily. Yet I remind myself that even if they spend it on beer or on fast food or just outright lied to me about their need, I still need to be kind. I give the dollar, not for them, but for me. Something spiritual, I suppose you could say. The act of giving is my spiritual exercise, to keep my tender heart from hardening.

    I buy a case of water about every 3 or 4 weeks for a friend who has a "cold water" ministry to the homeless. He and his wife spend hours each day in the warm weather, downtown where the homeless and the bums hang out (not all bums are homeless). They hand out water to anyone who needs it. (Last summer they personally handed out more than 2000 bottles of water before losing count.)

    The homeless problem has bothered me for decades now. I have volunteered at a shelter in another city and spent the night there once "on duty". It gave me nightmares for years afterward. I dreamed it was time to go to bed, and I had no bed and was surrounded by hundreds of people. It seemed like acres of people lying on mats in a flat area, all their belongings beside them, and I had to choose a spot beside someone, anyone, that I had never seen before. I would have to close my eyes and be vulnerable as sleeping people are in uncertain surroundings. In reality, I'm secure and safe and warm and dry.

    I hadn't given much thought to the water situation. Water is something everyone needs to survive. But if you don't have a home, where do you get a drink? In the winter time, most communities do something about shelter, or blankets, or coats and gloves. But what about summer? What about water to drink? Clean, safe water? Steve and Debbie have inspired me with their calling, their mission.

    Today I heard a woman telling two children about giving gifts to people who have everything. Then she said, "Jesus really does have everything. What would you give him?" I thought she was driving them to say "my heart" or "my love". But instead she told the story about the sheep and the goats. One group has been stingy and unyielding to Jesus; the other has been generous and kind to him. Then the people in the kind group said, "But when did we ever do anything nice for you? We haven't even seen you before!" Jesus said, "When you do it for the least of these, you do it for me."

    Maybe the dollar, or the bottle of water, or the blanket, or gloves, aren't really for the person that gets them. Maybe they're gifts for Jesus. Big churches with stained glass windows, symphony orchestras , and TV crews say less about our God than two people in a park on a scorching hot summer day handing out bottles of water from coolers of ice. They say "thank you" and "praise God" more beautifully than any choir. And they make me want to be like that. We all need more spiritual exercise that has eternal consequences.