Collapsed

There was an artist that had the idea of painting a picture of the modern-day prodigal son.  (If you don't know the story of the prodigal son, you can go to Luke 15:11-32).  In order to capture the desperation and hopelessness of the prodigal son, the artist wanted to find a man who was down to his last dime of life.  He wanted a man who was dirty and grimy, clothes stained of tears and sweat.  He had to go all the way to downtown where many such men lived on street corners.  He came across one man, sitting on the ground, leaning up against the brick wall of a tall building, his knees pointing up through his ripped jeans, head buried in his hands, his puffy jacket making him look like a shivering ball, weeping.  The artist walked up to him, bent down and asked the man, "I'm an artist.  I was wondering if I could paint a picture of you.  Could I pay you to come down by my studio down the street tomorrow morning?"  The next day came, and with great anticipation of a beautiful time painting the prodigal son, the artist answered the knocks on his door.  It was the man but to the artist's surprise, there in the doorway stood a clean-shaven, shirt-and-tie-wearing man.  He wanted to appear nice in the picture.  The artist looked at him, disappointed and said, "I cannot use you."

This story was told at our church service last Wednesday.  The preacher went on to say how our church clothes (suits, fancy hats) can do an great job of hiding who we are, how we are actually struggling and imperfect people.  Something the pastor said made me imagine something.  If everybody came to church as they are, put their weaknesses, sinful patterns, struggles, and wore them on their sleeves, how different would the church be?  How much more would we comfort each other?  Encourage one another?  Show grace and mercy and love and forgiveness for each other?  How much higher would Jesus be exalted by the church as our Savior and Redeemer, the One who forgives our multitude of sins?

This morning, our church held its annual community outreach event which included providing people with a nice Thanksgiving meal, clothes and blankets if needed, and prayer.  I went to this event a year ago and met Wild Bill, who taught me what complete reliance on the Lord looked like.  He explained that if he got rid of everything he had, his sleeping mat, his clothes, his money, his cigarettes and walked down the street completely naked, he knew that God would provide for him.  That's trust!  As I arrived to the event, I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to help out with.  Throughout the day, I probably had at least 10-15 people ask me if I got a meal yet or if anyone has shared the gospel with me yet.  I know the church members were doing their job and making sure everyone was taken care of, but it was an interesting feeling to clarify, "No, I'm not here for a meal, I'm here to help."  It's safe to assume that if you are a white person at this event, you are one of the "least of these" and needed Jesus.  It was a very interesting and confusing day in that sense.  I was first instructed to ask any of the people who were eating if they needed anything, a carryout bag, another dessert, water, anything.  When it became apparent that very few of the eaters needed anything, I felt very useless.  I'm just a strange guy standing around looking confused.

I saw an older man, probably in his 80's, standing up, getting ready to leave.  We made eye contact and he motioned for me to help him with something, I wasn't sure what.  His words were slurred, his back was arched, he had a very used walker, a cane, and wore a baseball hat, winter jacket, and some 3D glasses you get at the movie theaters.  I could probably only understand every tenth word he said but I made out that he was blind (well, very poor eyesight), that he needed a blanket, and had a very long way to walk.  He has three bags with him.  One had a little blanket in it (he needed another for more warmth), the second had some clothes and personal items in it, and the third had two or three boxed meals that the church was passing out.  I carried the bags for him as we walked very slowly towards the clothing drive area.  Once David (the older gentleman) noticed the huge line and complex method of getting a ticket and waiting in line, he just wanted to get back to where he needed to go.  He looked very tired and defeated.  I asked if he would like a ride to wherever he was going.  He said yeah and his face started to change into a face that was about to cry.  I became clear to me that this man was running low on human contact and it seemed that a simple offer to me would mean something so much more to him.  I got the car, collapsed his walker and put that and his bags in the back seat as he got in front.  I was worried that I wouldn't be able to understand his directions and thus be sent on a wild goose chase.  Luckily he gave me a pretty comprehensible description before we left.  As I dropped him off, I walked him to his "spot".  A couple cardboard boxes collapsed and broken down were his bed.  This area was behind a building, under an outdoor staircase, next to a small grassy field where many other homeless live.  I sat with David, put my hand on his back and just asked to pray for him.  As I prayed, his head looked down, mouth was opened, drool kept coming out, tears flowed. As I thanked God for loving this man deeply, I couldn't help but be touched as well.  David, through tired and surrendered lips spoke "He is the only way."

Sometimes my possessions make me feel like I need them, deserve them, earned them.  Do I really trust God for my daily bread?  Thank Him for aaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllll He has given me?  Nope.  I honestly forget many times.  David made the long walk to our church to get a meal and a blanket.  His one glance towards me and his asking me for help were probably difficult for this fragile man to ask.  His walk was very slow.  Each step no more than 8 inches.  Sometimes I feel too proud to ask anyone for help.  I understand my weaknesses and my struggles, yet try to cover it up or act stronger than I actually am.  I want to encourage you, whoever may be reading this, to go to God with every struggle, every sin problem, every worry, every concern.  Don't hide behind your job title, your worldly possessions, your family, your nice clothes, your comfort zone for the sake of fooling your surroundings.  I left David with 1 John 1:9 and I leave with you also.  "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

To Jesus, come as you are.