A Bike and a Cardboard Sign

January 17, 2007 - Wednesday                  

Current mood:  restless

Last Sabbath I was on my way to Sabbath School. (I've learned that in order to be motivated to go, i have to teach). SO I was on my way to Sabbath School to teach, and I turned at a stoplight, barely noticing out of the corner of my eye, as I sped by, an elderly man with a couple cardboard signs and a bike. I guess I'm one of those people that has a hard time passing people by like that without feeling some kind of twinge of guilt, or at least starting up my deepest thinking on the big problems of the world that just seem unsolvable--like people on the side of the road with cardboard signs. But my brother had recently told me a story about regretting an opportunity of helping a homeless guy he'd met in D.C., and it changed my thinking this time. Instead of coming up with reasons why I couldn't or shouldn't help, I began thinking of how I could. I decided to put God to the test. I told him if He could get the Collegiate Sabbath School (all three of them) to go back with me, I'd talk to the guy and figure out how we could help. Though part of me wanted this plan to work, another part of me liked the thought of sitting in our nice room, talking about the passage we'd studied about Elijah. Nevertheless, I told the three guys at Sabbath School that they had a choice--either we could sit and discuss the passage, or we could go talk to the guy at the street corner. I was almost surprised when they readily agreed to go talk to the stranger. We loaded up in my car, had prayer, and tried to figure out what we were going to say once we got there, as well as discussing our views of people at stoplights with cardboard signs. At first, they were a little afraid he might be kind of scary and have a gun, but I reminded them it was still Calhoun, and on a busy street-corner on Saturday morning. We pulled up and parked on the side of the road and walked over to the man. He was indeed elderly--72 he said--and he did have a bike with a basket and a sign that said he would take food items or money. As we began finding out a little bit of the story behind the weathered face and worn clothes, it became easier to forget the cars passing by, and the fact that we probably looked a little odd talking to this guy, especially being dressed up in our church clothes. We listened intently, since his lack of teeth did make it more challenging to catch the details, until we were interrupted by a man who'd stopped across the street and came running across the road. He ran up to the man, handed him a couple bucks with the admonition to "Go to church real soon and find Jesus, ok?" and ran back to his truck. We kind of just went back to our small conversation, trying to ward off the awkwardness, and then eventually wrapped it up with prayer and assured him we'd be back with some food in a few minutes. We all went around and introduced ourselves and shook his hand. He told us he was glad to see there were young people out there who weren't doing "dope." When we brought back some canned food and a couple bananas, he gratefully loaded them into his basket, but turned down an invitation to come to potluck (one of the guys' ideas). We headed back to church with much to discuss about our experience, and made it back just in time for church.

I wish there was an easy way to capture the true essence of what I learned from this unique experience. But I'm afraid my clumsy words will have to do.

First, I don't want this experience to just be something to write about. I want it to live with me and in me--to somehow change the way I look at people who are God's children and yet often are not treated with the respect of even a pampered family pet. (Or a stray mutt, for that matter...)

Secondly, while I appreciate that the man who gave up a couple bucks even stopped at all (a lot farther than most of us usually go), I decided I really don't want to be like him. How did he know the man didn't know Jesus? And did the money come with the condition that the reciever must attend church to be worthy of the donation? What kind of gift is that? Not exactly without strings attached. Yet, while I was appalled at the way the donation was given, I wondered if I wasn't closely mirrored in his thinly veiled motivation, which maybe wasn't so much love for this person, as it was an appeasment of a guilty conscience. And I really wondered, how do you let someone know that they are truly valued--with no strings attached, simply because they are a creation of God?

And finally, I learned that there are some things that we experience in life that we may not quite understand fully, and have to wrestle with it for a time, before we even realize what we should learn from it.

Most of all, I learned that there are some things God likes to teach first-hand, even if it means sacrificing a few discussions.