My Ugly Heart - [Chad]

I was walking through the dim yellow of the morning, thinking about an assignment I had. I am supposed to talk to a homeless person—interview them. That’s all I knew. They gave several suggestions where such a person might be found. Even on your street corner, they helped. But, I’m kind of unenthusiastic about that whole thing. I’m not hesitant because I have to talk to a homeless person, I’ve done that before. That’s actually part of the reason that I’m hesitant.

I’ve seen the sheer shame in the eyes of those who find themselves without when they have to ask for a few bucks for the bus or try offering to let you go through a plastic bag of second hand clothes to see if there’s anything you might want to buy. It just seems a little cold to walk up to someone and say, “Excuse me, but I’d like to talk to you about your crappy life.” So, yeah, I’m kind of reluctant to do the whole assignment.

But, thinking about that got me thinking about spending time with people who need someone to care. In a matter of moments, an entire scenario played out in my mind where I would befriend a poor, homeless wretch and slip him ten dollar bills, parade him into restaurants and say proudly, he’s with me, if they disapproved his presence. Then, I imagined myself telling my new friend about Jesus, and that’s where I found myself shocked and sickened at my ugly heart. Because, in my imaginary world, that’s where I left him.

I’d loved him without any catches. I’d been his friend with no expectations or predications. But, when I was honored with the right to be heard by my friend and he readily accepted the Good News of Jesus in my imaginary world, the reel of compassion in my mind ran out of tape.

Sadly, I think that’s how we’ve been conditioned as Christians. We’ve been taught to seal the deal and move on. But, this guy, who represents thousands upon thousands of real people, needed hope, but he also needed to see that hope in action. And I, having sated my guilt, was on my imaginary way.

We’re all screaming out to matter, mostly unheard in the chaos of this self-centered world. Many of us are lucky to get the scrapings of this world’s acceptance—a friend or two, a lover perhaps—to hear our heart’s call. So, how do we imagine the, ahem, unimportant people fare? Yes, God is ultimate acceptance, but, you know, we get hungry too. And not just for food.

[ping]