Chris

A couple days ago I was chilling outside of the local police department (just because I needed a place to sit while I waited for a friend) and a white guy walks out muttering under his breath (but loud enough for me to hear) "I just can't take it anymore, I can't stop, I can't take it anymore." I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I asked him what the problem was. "I can't stop."
"What can't you stop?"
"Heroin."
I talked with him for the next five minutes encouraging him to seek Christ and gave him my number. I also mentioned the church I've been going to, and he seemed really interested, because I told him that it's the kind of church that accepts people whoever they are--homeless, gay, yuppie, black, white, latino, whoever. I hope he calls me, and I'm praying that God will give him enough realization of his need that he will seek more help.

New paradigm on evangelism

I was reading in Christianity Today from the July 08 edition, and read an article about a way of sharing Jesus with people called the "Big Story." The Four Spiritual Laws are replaced by four circles, with the following four captions. The first circle starts in the top left side of the page, the second one the top right side, etc.
Circle 1. Designed for Good
Circle 2. Damaged by evil
Circle 3. Restored for better
Circle 4. Sent together to heal

I like the emphasis that James Choung puts on the kingdom of God in his presentation of the gospel in these four circles. It's not just about me and Jesus--it's about joining in the work of the kingdom! A point that James makes in the article is that in explaining the diagram to people, many try to jump from circle 2 to circle 4, but it is impossible without the intervention of Jesus through the cross in circle 3.

"The idolatry of money means that the moral worth of a person is judged in terms of the amount of money possessed or controlled. The acquisition and accumulation of money in itself is considered evidence of virtue. It does not so much matter how money is acquired--by work or invention, through inheritance or marriage, by luck or theft--the main thing is to get some. The corollary of this doctrine, of course, is that those without money are morally inferior--weak, or indolent, or otherwise less worthy as human beings. Where money is an idol, to be poor is a sin.
This is an obscene idea of justification, directly in contradiction with the Bible. In the gospel none are saved by any works of their own, least of all by the mere acquisition of money. In fact, the New Testament is redundant in citing the possession of riches as an impediment to salvation when money is regarded idolatrously. At the same time, the notion of justification by acquisition of money is empirically absurd, for it oversimplifies the relationship of the prosperous and the poor and overlooks the dependence of the rich upon the poor for their wealth. In this world human beings live at each other's expense, and the affluence of the few is proximately related to, and supported by, the poverty of the many.
This interdependence of rich and poor is something Americans are tempted to overlook, since so many Americans are in fact prosperous, but it is true today as it was in earlier times: the vast multitudes of people on the face of the earth are consigned to poverty for their whole lives, without any serious prospect whatever of changing their conditions. Their hardships in great measure make possible the comfort of those who are not poor; their poverty maintains the luxury of others; their deprivation purchases the abundance most Americans take for granted."
Pg. 245-246 "A Keeper of the Word," by Kellerman

Seminaries

"The seminaries have generally been so covetous of academic recognition and so anxious for locus within the ethos and hierarchy of the university that they have not noticed how alien and hostile those premises are to the peculiar vocation of a seminary. thus the seminaries succumb to disseminating ideological renditions of the faith that demean the vitality of the biblical witness by engaging in endless classifications and comparisons of ideas. All this eschews commitment and precludes a confessional study of theology...the appropriate location of the seminary is within the church, the Body of Christ, and not within the university. The seminary's manner in the preparation and qualification of those to be ordained should exemplify the church rather than imitate the university...In short, the enthrallment of the seminary within the ideology of the university sponsors a professionalization of the ordained ministry that aborts the edification of the people of the church and that contradicts the servant character of the clergy's vocation."
pgs. 257-258, "A Keeper of the Word" by Kellerman

Are American churches viable political threats?

"...The churches in America are more innocuous...there is an elaborate American comity by which political domination of the churches is sanctioned by the status of church property holdings. Thus, tax exemption for the churches inhibits a critical political witness by the churches. Thus, a presidential assurance of aid to church-related schools can in sure the silence of the ecclesiastical hierarchy on certain public issues. In short, the dependence of the American churches upon property renders the churches so utterly vulnerable to political manipulation as to obviate a more direct ecclesiastical interference."
pg. 271 "A Keeper of the Word" by Kellerman

Fear nothing

"Remember, now, that the state has only one power it can use against human beings: death. The state can persecute you, prosecute you, imprison you, exile you, execute you. All of these mean the same thing. The state can consign you to death. The grace of Jesus Christ in this life is that death fails. There is nothing the state can do to you, or to me, which we need fear."
--William Stringfellow, from when he was asked to give a short word to a group of believers meeting together to support Daniel Berrigan and others from the "Catonsville Nine," who were on trial at the time. I've been reading from "A Keeper of the Word," an anthology of Stringfellow's writings by Bill Wylie-Kellerman. I highly recommend it.

Teddy Bear

After the after school program finished on Tuesday, I walked around downtown for a while, deep in thought, and I heard a voice from the side of the sidewalk ask me, "is that a guitar?" pointing to the little travelers guitar I had over my shoulder. I turned, smiled and began a conversation with this elderly black man who had three or four cigarette packs neatly displayed on a handkerchief in front of him. As we talked about four or five people interupted our conversation to ask him for something, and he would either sell them a cigarette for 25 cents or deny them their request. The street was kind of noisy, so I couldn't hear everything that was said, but I gathered that he also sold other drugs besides nicotine, but didn't want to sell them with me around. He soon introduced himself as "Teddy bear" and proceeded to lift up his shirt and reveal a bright blue teddy bear hiding in his pocket. When I offered to let him play my guitar, he was surprised and exceptionally grateful, saying something to the effect that this was the nicest thing someone had done for him in a while. He offered a seat next to him by laying out a folded up towel for me to sit on, and I sat next to him and chatted while he idly played some blues licks. He seemed to have a good amount of skill from accumulated years of experience, yet it also seemed as though it had been a while since he had a guitar in his hands. Although it was very hard for me to understand what he was saying, he seemed to be spiritually attentive, and was concerned for my safety on the streets. When I got a call from a friend I was planning on hanging out with, I bid him farewell, and we both promised that we'd see eachother again.

Farewells, Cookie, and Old Macdonald

I went to my normal hangout after a sad night at the youth program. One of our longest standing staff will be leaving in three weeks (she has been there for seven years), and one of the kids, Christopher, lost his best friend to a shot from a gang. I sat with him for a while, not saying much, just asking an occasional question, and letting him share. I listened to Lisa sharing her heart with the kids, a kind of matriarchal farewell blessing to them, encouraging them that she loved them all dearly and was simply seeking to follow God's will for her life. I left the room without saying goodbye to that many people and on the way to my spot outside of Pinkberry I noticed an older lady in front of me, wearing scraggly clothing and a blanket over her back which was slightly dragging, and I wondered if there was anything else she was dragging behind her in her life. I thought she was mumbling to herself, so I cautiously greeted her, only to be surprised at the lucidity of her response. She gave me a big smile and asked me if I had any cigarettes. My negative response didn't end our conversation, and I gratefully chatted with her about where I was from and where I lived as we walked over to Little Tokyo. As we passed by a bench outside of a frozen yogurt shop, she asked me to sit down and wait for her while she got a cigarette. She came back not only with a cigarette but with a little plastic tray full of slightly melted mochi, a delicious mixture of icecream balls wrapped in a yummy gummy bread. I ended eating four of the six because she had just had a big meal. Apparently, she was able to live completely off of unfinished meals of patrons of restaurants in the area. She was born in South Korea originally, and married a U.S. soldier. She told me the marriage didn't last for long--only a couple of years, leaving her out on the streets, unable to have much contact with her family in Korea. Although she misses them, she also mentioned to me that it is good for her to be here, where there is plenty of food to eat. I am in complete agreement. After she left with kind words, I went back to a bench to play my guitar for a while, and a man came up to me with a grin and an "Eyi eyi oh" in greeting, and proceeded to share a joke with me (I can't remember what it was, but it had a slightly off color ending). As we chatted a bit, he complemented me on my upbringing--I must have good parents (which I do). I offered him a couple bucks (he hadn't asked anything of me) and he shared another joke, interspersed with occasional Eyi eyi oh's, so I asked him if he was Old Macdonald, and yes apparently that is what some people call him.

Interview in Portland, revisited

Well, I earlier posted a link to an interview a journalist had with me when I was sleeping on the streets of Portland. The link didn't work for a while, but then resurfaced so now I'm going to post the whole article so as not to lose it again. I pretty much agree with what I said back then, except for my comments about marriage--back then, I make it sound as if I'm only interested in dating or marriage with someone who wants or is open to living the homeless lifestyle. That's no longer true.

The following is a section of an online book called Youth Stories by Eric Marley.

Chapter 3 Nathan



Sometimes I am frustrated by my inability to go back and ask follow-up questions. Nathan is one of the best examples I can site of this inadequacy, including what are probably poor technical interviewing techniques as well. However, he is a good example of the educated homeless; those whose stated reason to be on the street are different than the standard ones. My frustration with this interview is my inability to get to the bottom of the real reason for his homelessness. I think it has more to do with his "weakness" than he is admitting. That notwithstanding, he was an interesting young man and a breath of fresh air – a nice change from some of the more heart-wrenching stories I'd heard that day.



Nathan was laying in a doorway at about 8 am on March 10, 2007 when we first passed him. After another interview we passed by him again and he was rolling his sleeping bag. I noticed his bright eyes, cheerful countenance and North Face sleeping bag – none of these being standard equipment for homeless people. I was overcome with curiosity. This interview is the result of that. Nathan seemed to be an example of one of the good but confused people on the road. He's not addicted to drugs, there was no alcohol on his breath and he certainly doesn't seem to be a violent person. But there were in congruencies, holes in his story. There were also references to some undisclosed weakness that he was battling. This notwithstanding, whether he is being completely honest with himself or not he is almost certainly doing others some good with his ready smile and sense of humor.



Interview: March 10, 2007

Place: Portland, Oregon in a doorway on 9th street near Burnside, about 10:45 am

Weather: Overcast

Subject: Nathan, 23 years old.



Your name?

Nathan.



Where is your hometown?

Well, I grew up overseas in different places. I guess the closest thing is Quakertown, Pennsylvania.



Did you live there long?

Maybe about 3 years total. Not too long.



What's your education level, Nathan?

College graduate.



I knew it!

(We both laugh uproariously)



Where did you graduate from and what was your major?

Grover City College in Pennsylvania. My major was Christian Thought.



Interesting. So why are you out of doors?

I'm traveling. I've been hitchhiking. I want to visit some different Christian communities throughout the US. I also want to learn what it's like to be out in the streets, learn from the people. Just be with them.



What are you learning?

Um, I think I'm learning that it's easy to judge but it's hard to love.



What are you going to do with this information?

I'm trying to explain…it's much easier to learn experientially. But I'm trying to explain through my blog and through emails and stuff to my friends and family just what the lifestyle's like so they can come to a better understanding about how they can relate to the homeless. So I hope to basically tell other people from the middle class so they would come to a better understanding and have more compassion and more wisdom I guess, relating to the homeless.



Why is that important to you? You're a college graduate – you could have a more comfortable life I would imagine.

I worked two years with AmeriCorps. The second year I worked with homeless families. Basically calling up shelters and helping them get into shelters. And I realized that there's a lot of help out there for the homeless, but there is not a lot of compassion. So…I think primarily what we need as a middle class, the people that have their stuff together, to learn how to humble themselves and to help other people out, and not be so concerned about their own needs as the needs of others. And what people out in the streets need is not so much a judgmental attitude, "you need to stop drinking" or "you need to stop drugs", but more of a compassionate, "hey, do you want to sit here and chat?" Not necessarily offering anything, but just becoming friends, and creating that dialogue. I think that for too long we've been separating ourselves – the middle class has been moving out into the suburbs, and leaving the city. Now the rich are moving back into the city and kicking the poor out to who-knows-where – somewhere else.



How is this tied to your spirituality? You obviously consider yourself a spiritual person.

Yes. I've been learning a lot about faith and about life through the eyes of the homeless. I went on this trip because of my faith in Christ. I'd say it's taught me that my weaknesses are still the same when I'm on the streets as they were beforehand. I had this idealistic thing, "well, maybe I won't struggle as much with my pet sins because I'll have to be constantly relying on God to help me through this. Boy, that was a big mistake.



So they're still there.

Oh yeah. So, I'm going back to LA because…I guess that's my new hometown since I stayed there two years recently.



Was that also with AmeriCorps?
Yes, but I was also doing an internship with a missionary group called "Servants To Partners." They sent teams overseas to the slums, so, I'm going to go back there and kind of reconnect with some friends and develop more of accountability, a stronger accountability.



Tell me about your family. How do they feel about you being out here – are they worried?

Um, I think my parents are okay with me being out here. They were Christian missionaries.



They were? So they probably had similar experiences?

I would say my lifestyle growing up in Korea and South Africa was maybe slightly lower middle class lifestyle of an American so I was pretty comfortable growing up. Since then I've come to a deeper conviction of the reality of suffering in the world and the need to take on some of that suffering in order to be a real person. To be involved in helping other people and being "Jesus" to them.



I think the Christian doctrine is that Jesus "descended below all things", so you are really trying to emulate his path, is that correct?

Yes, I think that in following Jesus – which is essentially what being a Christian is – it's not all the other things that people add on. I don't even label myself a Christian because people misunderstand what it means. Yeah, so, following Jesus means taking up your cross, which means suffering. He said if anyone would come after me he must deny himself, take up his cross daily and follow me. So I don't claim to be doing that right now. One of my favorite philosophers, Soren Kierkegaard, said he didn't claim to be a Christian because he didn't think he was actually following the level that Jesus called his followers to follow. But…I'm trying to anyways.



You're making an effort.

Yes, I'm making an effort.



And yet, as an outsider, I'd say you're going through tremendous lengths to try to follow Jesus in your understanding of people that are less advantaged than you.

Yes.



So is it your weaknesses, or things you want to overcome, is that part of it, too?

Yes, I'd say it is. Some people distinguish between their 'social gospel' and there's this whole camp of people like that and then there's this other camp of people that are all about holiness. "Oh I have to not do certain things, or be a certain person." Well, I think Jesus encapsulates both of those together. He was a very holy person – and to distinguish holiness again from what some people think Christians view to be, such as not smoking and drinking and all that stuff. I'm talking about holiness as being set apart for God's work. God is holy and that means he is set apart. So that means…it's very complicated since he's also with us. So…um, I think that the important thing is for personal holiness, values, to also be motivated by love, which means action. Right now I'm struggling with personal holiness values. So I need to kind of reconnect with God on a personal level to deal with some of those issues. So and then I'll better be able to help others out. You can't help others if you're not working and trying to help yourself.



Where do you want to be in 5 years?

I'd like to be two places in five years. Either overseas with a team such as Servants To Partners helping to see Gods kingdom come into a third world slum or somewhere here in the US hitchhiking traveling around on foot, but by that time with an established community that I can always come back to. Um, so there's a community called "Simple Way" in Philadelphia. It's a group of believers that have come together and they are living in a run down area. They live together, pool their resources. So it's not just a community in the sense that they meet together, they also live together.



So it's like a commune?

Yes, exactly. So at that point I'd either like to be overseas or here in the US with a community that I can come back to.



Do you want to have a family of your own someday?

It's kind of up in the air. That's a good question. I do think that my family in a lot of ways is the people I'm with wherever I am. That's one of the things I love about traveling. It's meeting completely new people and establishing this connection – you know you feel like you've been brothers or sisters for a long time. I'm open to eventually getting married. I wouldn't say I'm going to pursue it right now, but I'm hoping to. There aren't too many women out there who want to travel around hitchhiking, sleeping in doorways. (Laughs). But there's a few I think. Actually one of the things that got me interested in this was an article in Prism magazine (an evangelical magazine that talks about issues related to social justice) about this homeless couple in France. One was a former Franciscan priest that started going out on visits with a Franciscan brother, living in shelters and sleeping outside with the homeless – he felt that God was calling him to do this. And actually he met a lady that was serving at a shelter and she wanted to go out with them so the three of them went around for a while. Eventually he got married to her, so he renounced his celibacy vows and they went around as a couple. About three quarters of the year they would be out on the streets.



So is the path you're on now going to help you be where you want to be in 5 years?

Yeah, I've been visiting different communities in the US. I spent a week in a monastery – that was interesting. I also spent a week in a 500 person Christian commune in Chicago. Just north of Chicago they had another one where they had different houses where they would live together. But the one 500 person one in Chicago they all lived in an old hotel, right in uptown Chicago. Jesus People USA. They run a shelter there and it's pretty cool.



What's the name of your blog?

Wannabemendicant.blogspot.com



What is a mendicant?

That's a beggar. The mendicants were, in the earlier church, back in the middle Ages, the mendicant orders were groups of people like Saint Francis and his followers. But I've only panhandled a couple of times. I kind of see it in a spiritual sense – a beggar for God.



Thanks, Nathan.

You're welcome.


http://bookbanshee.securespsite.com/Sociology/Youth%20Stories%20-%20Book%20In%20Progress.doc

The robed stranger

For the past month, I've noticed a tall white man with a long brown beard (Gandalf style) wearing a blue robe walking around inside the library and nearby it. I had seen him at least 6 times, at various places, and always wanted to approach him, because I suspected he was a Christian, and also homeless, and had seen him with a little travelers Bible. Finally, after getting some grub inside Fatima, I noticed him sitting in the seating outside the doors and determined to introduce myself. He smiled warmly and offered me a seat as we talked about our lives. He was older than I suspected--about 35 (when I thought he was in his late 20's.) He had previously been a truck driver, back east, but felt God was calling him to walk prophetically as a homeless evangelist. He has spent time street preaching, and even challenging authorities with the word of God, i.e. he once went to WB and told the security guard that he'd like to speak to the manager, and when someone came out, he calmly told him that WB needed to repent of making shows that were displeasing to God, and had a gracious conversation about it for a couple minutes. The impression I got of his preaching is that it is usually one on one, and is very gracious--he'll calmly ask people to repent and talk about Jesus with them. This is the style of street confrontation that I would feel most comfortable with doing myself. Stephen (perhaps he was named after the first martyr--indeed he has a desire to be martyred for his faith) spends most of his time during the day praying and reading and talking with people. As we were chatting together in the early evening, several people walked by and greeted him by name. One of them, named Jerry, sat down and talked with us for a while, and Stephen noticed that he had a black bag with pornographic magazines in it. Stephen calmly mentioned to him that it was not pleasing to God for him to view women in that way, and he immediately got very defensive, explaining how he believed that it was ok to masturbate and use pornography, and how he used to be involved in the normal entertainment industry, but couldn't cut it, so now he was trying to get into the porn industry. We calmly shared with him that he couldn't continue in this and still have a viable relationship with Jesus, and I shared from personal experience how sexual sin has cut me off from God. Sadly, he didn't accept our concerns in the moment, but I hope that the Holy Spirit will convict him from the conversation. I was really encouraged to be with Stephen--I felt like we had very similar values in sharing Christ with others. For example, Stephen mentioned after our conversation with Jerry how much he appreciated that I wasn't offended by Jerry's "colorful" language.

The Invitation

"Come here to me." Amazing! Yes, human compasion does indeed do something for those who labor and are burdened. We feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give charity, build charitable organizations, and if the compassion is really heartfelt, we also visit those who are downtrodden. But to invite them to come to one, that is something that is not so easily done. It would mean that your household and way of life would be completely changed. To invite them in this way would mean to live together in entirely the same manner. You would have to become poor, sharing completely the same conditions as those who are distressed and burdened.
This invitation can only be made by changing your own conditions, so they are in keeping with theirs, provided that your life is not already like theirs, as was the case with him who says, "Come here to me, all you who labor and are burdened."
From Provocations, a collection of the spiritual writings of Soren Kierkegaard

Earth has no Sorrow

Recently I've been listening to a song by the Vigilantes of Love that I can't get enough of. I love songs that convey struggle--a deep, earnest struggle between sorrow and joy, life and death, peace and war. Here are the lyrics:

it's time to get the lash it's time to get the rope
sharpen the razor grab the microscope
it won't be pretty when they cut the tether
sometimes you lose your address to find your shelter

why is joy something i must steal
starving skeletons looking for a meal
out in the graveyard the church bells peal
earth has no sorrow heaven can't heal

i bought a crap detector it emptied all my savings
it's got a hair trigger feel for the slightest provocation
not there to spill blood or judge out of line
it's just a modern convenience to save you some time

johnny says to sarah as he takes her by the hand
"i hear angels 'cross that river in beulahland"
the waters are cold and they're deep my friend
i'm going down down down and coming up again
i'm checking my closets since i don't know when
surely life is more than learning how to live with your skeletons
wind swing low whisper in my ears
wind swing low dry these tears

From Paul the Walker

This a quote from Paul's blog (a guy I met at a community out near Chicago called Reba Place--he had spent many years traveling around the US by faith, trusting God and His people to provide for him along the road), in which he describes his opiniont of Jesus' method of transforming the world grassroots:


“Instead of taking the position of "good overlord," he went directly to the bottom, to the people who were oppressed, and showed them how to be free. Not by changing the world around them, but by helping them to change themselves. By showing them the power of faith. So the poor and weak could face their oppressors without fear and refuse to beg from them or be controlled by their threats, obeying only God, their loving Father."

http://cimarronline.blogspot.com

Night Cats

He was walking a couple feet in front of me, shaggy hair down to his shoulders, looked like he was mixed, and he stomped his feet in front of a young cat, causing it to run under a nearby metallic black fence. "You don't like cats?" I queried, about two meters behind him.
"I love cats--I just wanted him to be safe--it's not safe on these streets," he responded, with a warm, somewhat deeper voice that immediately conveyed to me his goodwill for the cat, and for his neighbor. We chatted for a bit about cats, and he mentioned to me that there was a whole family of cats who lived in the park a block away, so we casually strolled over there, sharing bits and pieces of our separate lives. I was overjoyed to see a cat hanging out by the fence of the park (it's locked at night) and we continued our conversation, which now moved onto more spiritual matters. He has been a follower of Jesus for several years, after traveling to Europe, and living homelessly there and in the US, where he met Jesus through some loving people at the Los Angeles Mission. He plans to leave in a couple of days in order to do a sixth month stint at a program outside the city (he confessed he has been taking consolation in drinking, more recently. After a little while, an older lady came next to the park, pushing her large grocery cart brimming with her stuff, and dropped a large pile of cat food past the wrought iron gate for the cats to feed on--and they came--probably five or six of them at various sizes. Ben called her "mama" and introduced me to her. She was hunched over and when I talked with her after Ben left, she seemed to be somewhat senile. The parts of what she said that I could make out broke my heart--how she had been "sodomized" when she was homeless, but now stayed inside. I bade my farewell, after she said she had to leave because she had a busy night, and might not get much sleep (I have no idea what she was going to be doing). I hope to see the cats, and Ben, and Mama, again.

Moving from Azusa street

Three nights ago, I was woken up by one of the quasi cops (the city hires people who wear purple shirts to go around downtown to help out the cops) who told me that I wouldn't be allowed to sleep there anymore due to an increased number of break-ins in the area (because I wasn't technically sleeping in the appropriate sleeping zone for the homeless in downtown). I'm bummed, because I really enjoyed sleeping on Azusa street--it was a little secluded, it was easy to attach my bag to a nearby pole, and it has sentimental value to me now (partially due to the fact that the Pentecostal revival happened on that street back in the day). I'm not sure where I'm gonna sleep tonight, but I'll find somewhere different--I've got a lot of options!

Money, Sacrifice, and Institutionalism

Last night I had a great night playing Settlers of Catan with my old roommates Jeremy and Charlton at Charlton's place he shares with his wife Theresa in Pasadena. After playing a rousing game (it was anyone's game at the end, which made it more exciting) we got into an interesting discussion concerning our discipleship among the poor. I had mentioned briefly a conversation I had had with two other friends about how we should interpret and live out Jesus' imperative to "give to everyone who begs of you," in Luke, and different ways that may look like. I shared some stories about my experience with the homeless of LA, and how, though most of the people who asked me for money were drug addicts, there were still some who I helped financially who were legitimately in need for food or other necessities. Just yesterday, as I was just about ready to hop on the elevator to the gold line train station, I was stopped by a young black man about my age who asked for help--a buck or two to help him out. I pulled out my earphones, and looked him directly in the face, seeking to engage him on a deeper level, and I found out that he had recently come to LA, and was dealing with the criminal justice system--in and out of jail, and was currently homeless. After a couple minutes I decided to give him five dollars from my pocket, and he was extremely grateful, gushing about how difficult it was for him here in LA and how he would sleep on the trains and avoid the skid row area because it was unsafe. We ended up talking for almost thirty minutes after I gave him the money and some granola bars, and I believe that the act of trusting him with money, not just with food, helped him to open up more with me and we actually had a relatively deep connection. Hopefully he calls me back later (I gave him my phone and email address). Although in the past, I've been burned by people who have fed me stories just to get me to give them some cash for drugs, who ran off as soon as the money was in their hands, I have come to believe that even if the majority of people who ask for help may be struggling with substance abuse doesn't mean that we should never give financial help to those who ask for it.
Anyhew, the discussion led us to discuss the merits and defects of giving to Christian nonprofits as opposed to directly giving to people in need. My friend, Charlton, expressed to us some of his frustrations in working at one of the Christian homeless rescue missions downtown. He is one of the IT staff there, and is often asked to produce reports and to crunch numbers for the other staff. He mentioned how much money he sees going into the basic upkeep of the shelter, rather than into the programs they are seeking to help the homeless with. It seems this is the basic problem with institutions in general--what was started as something good and helpful to people sometimes becomes a monster that requires the sacrifice of time, money, and energy in work that has little of anything to do with simple acts of service to the poor. My other friend shared about how he has learned from his ministry in a young church plant in the neighborhood of Lincoln Heights, a low income neighborhood of LA that has it's share of gangs. He mentioned how difficult it is to be wise with giving in their context as well. The family that they have given the most financial help to has ended up being the family who is least interested in following Jesus, but still wants to stay in contact with the church because of their financial help. My friend mentioned that he believed that they were being faithful to God's call in giving the money away, and had spent much time in prayer, seeking God's direction. It was simply a reminder that a simple giving of money away to the poor is not as easy as it sounds. I also shared a story of Jackie Pullinger, who is a missionary to the slums of Hong Kong. An aquaintance of hers, a prostitute came to her in desperation because she was being sold into sex slavery due to her large debt she owed, and needed a large sum of money to pay off her debt. Jackie prayed about it, and believed God was asking her to give up her most prized possession, her violin (or clarinet, I can't remember what instrument) that she used to play in the Hong Kong symphony. Although it was a very difficult sacrifice for her (she had long lived by faith, trusting God for her daily needs, and the instrument was the only thing of value left that she owned), she was obedient to God's leading in her life, and sold the instrument to buy back the girl from her "owner." The gang boss told her that it was a futile thing for her to do, because the girl would eventually go back to her old ways sometime down the road. Although Jackie knew this could happen, she also knew that just like Jesus died for the world, knowing not all would accept His sacrifice for them, so also would she sacrifice her prized possession for the girl without knowing whether the girl would truly change or not. Similarly, I have come to the belief that giving and love should not be based on our limited knowledge of the worthiness or unworthiness of the person recieving or love or gift. We all are so much in need of grace. I close with a quote from Kahlil Gibran from his poem The Prophet in a section called "Giving."
You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."

"The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.

They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.

Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights is worthy of all else from you.

And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream."

Randy (Lurch)

Last Thursday, I was hanging out in Pasadena after being dropped off at Trader Joes so I could buy some cereal (thankfully, I'm gonna be able to store cereal and milk at the after school program I volunteer at so that I don't have to spend as much money on food), and I decided to see whether a certain 3$ theatre trully existed. I got off of the gold line train at the Lake station, had dinner at a teryaki place, and waltzed down Lake, until I hit Colorado. I knew it was somewhere along Colorado, and found it a while later. I was shocked how cheap it was, but also how old the movies were--about 2 months old or so most of them, but it was still a great deal--only two dollars for matinee, and three for evening tickets. I was waiting for the showing of Iron Man, (though I had seen it before, I was quite bored) and a guy walked up to me and sat down on the bench next to me. I asked him how he was doing, as he looked a little dirty, and tired. He told me not so well, and that he was hungry. I told him I could help him out with a meal, so we walked over to the other side of the street, rather dangerously, as he boldly crossed without the signal of the little walking white man. He wanted to get Mexican food, so asked (more like told me) to go inside and order something for him while he would meet me outside across the street. I went in and found out the cheapest thing was seven dollars (and I only had five) so I met up with him and told him that I could instead buy him something from the Chinese place I had seen a couple blocks away. He waved his hand, motioning for me to let him think, and he asked whether I could use a credit card, and I told him yes, if they'd let me. Then, knowing I only had five dollars cash on me, he asked whether I would let him hold on to the five dollars while I went and used my credit card to get him some shrimp fried rice. Apparently, he distrusted that I would actually come back with the food. "Alright, I'll let you hold onto it as a promise that I will be back, but I expect you to give it back to me when I come back." (I knew that there was a very good chance that the five dollars wouldn't be there when I got back, but I wanted to show him that I trusted him). Sure enough, when I came back fifteen minutes later with the fried rice, and asked for the five dollars, he apologized and told me that he had given the money to another guy to whom he owed money. (I had seen him with another guy before I came back.) "I'm pretty upset--you promised that you would give me back the five dollars. I don't really care about the money itself, but you broke my trust." We talked it over, and although I had a pretty good feeling that he still had the five dollars on him, and was lying to me, I decided not to ask the man who he was talking to earlier whether Randy had truly given him the five dollars. I wanted to convey to him my disappointment, but at the same time, I knew I wasn't really talking to Randy, but to the need for crack in his system. So I let it go and he asked me what I wanted to do. I suggested we go see a movie at the theatre, and he visibly got excited. We were about twenty minutes late to the movie, and we found out that they didn't accept credit cards, so I asked the lady behind the counter whether she would let Randy in without pay and I would come back with enough money for the two of us--and she allowed it! The movie was an experience--Randy kept on talking out loud and laughing uproariously, until he calmed down a bit when another moviegoer asked him kindly to keep the noise level down. Two thirds through the showing, he was asleep, and I woke him up to leave the theatre. I hung out with him for a while outside, and he shared how he saw his father shoot his mother in front of him when he was only 7. He still hasn't forgiven his dead father for what he did and who he was. By the end of the conversation, Randy had confided to me that he didn't really have anyone else that he considered a true friend--they were all other crack addicts or prostitutes. I gave him my number, and he promised to call me the next day. He did finally call about a week later--and I asked him how I could pray for him. He asked for prayer that God would save his soul! The conversation was quick because he was borrowing a phone from someone else, but I'm hoping and praying that God will save his soul, and more.

To End All Wars

I was reminded of one of my favorite movies "To End All Wars" as I was reading Philip Yancey's book "Rumors of Another World." It's about a British officer named Ernest Gordon, who was captured by Japanese soldiers during World War 2 ("the war to end all wars," hence the name of the movie) and forced to do manual work in a prisoner of war camp to help build a railroad line. Over 80,000 men died during the construction of the track, of sickness, starvation, and being shot. Naturally, the bloody realities of the camp led to a spirit of competition and every man for himself. Yet God's spirit was moving beyond the understanding of any of them--for a singular event happened which catalyzed a movement of unity that is practically unmatched in the history of human struggle. During roll call one day it was discovered that a shovel was missing, and the guards asked who had stolen the shovel. When no one answered, the guards threatened to kill them all, until one man from the line of men stood forward, claiming, "I did it." The angry guard quickly fell on him with blows all over his body, but he still stood to attention. Enraged, the guard crashed his rifle butt down on his skull, and he fell down, dead. This event had an unexpected result among the prisoners--one of them remembered the words of Jesus--"Greater love has no one than this that he lay down his life for his friends," and the whole direction of the camp changed. Instead of fighting and stealing, the men began to live sacrificially for one another. Gordon felt the direct effects of this as his comrades helped revive him when he had become so sick he was on the verge of death. One exchanged his personal watch for some medicine to help him with his fever. The men were now living in spiritual community that no ruthless guard could take away from them. By the end, when they were finally freed, the men treated the sadistic guards with love and kindness instead of revenge. I like the way Yancey uses the miracle of this POW camp to illustrate the way the church is in the world--
"In the soil of this violent, disordered world, an alternate community may take root. It lives in hope of a day of liberation. In the meantime, it aligns itself with another world, not just spreading rumors but planting settlements-in-advance of that coming reign."

Loneliness

“Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone"
--Octavio Paz

I was lonely yesterday. In my sojourn among the homeless of skid row, I've spent alot of time alone--perhaps more time than I've ever spent in my life. I love people--love connecting with people, smiling and laughing with them. Yet, I've come to realize that my times with people are worthless unless I know what it means to be alone. So I'm grateful for God is teaching me through these days--that when I'm lonely, He is the only one who really can satisfy my hunger for appreciation and praise and company. I still remember towards the end of my time in the Servant Partners internship when my intern director, Kevin Blue, mentioned that loneliness was a common aspect of ministry in the city. And I also remember talking with Brad at a recent wedding that as he gets older, he finds increasingly fewer people who are walking a similar path--not getting caught up in the materialistic flow of western church culture. But last night I talked for a while with a brother who was running from God for three years--and now has seen God answer his prayers as he has given up all to follow. He is going to be teaching kids in Baltimore, starting Monday, and he doesn't even know where he's going to live! God is good :)

Praise of men

I was listening to a sermon by John Piper about fasting--he was sharing about the passage which says that we should not anounce our fasting to the world to prove that we are more spiritual. Fasting becomes a hypocritical act if it is done for the audience of others because it proves that we are hungering for acceptance from others rather than the praise of the One. This applies not only to fasting but to every good thing we do in the world.

Does God always satisfy the need of our souls?

One common danger that Larry Crabb points out in his book The Papa Prayer is a tendency to think that blessings from God satisfy our souls more deeply than God Himself. "The problem, of course, is that our relationship with God is so shallow that the pleasure it brings really is less than the pleasure we feel when life goes well."
The second reason Larry warns against the deceitfulness of things outwardly going well in our lives is because frankly, truly and sincerely living for God doesn't always produce a warm feeling of joy and meaning. "In the moment...giving priority to our relationship with God may not produce the maximum satisfaction in our souls that we legitimately desire."

Seen written on the sidewalk

Rebel and Revolt
And join UPACT
United People Against Crimal Tactics
Regarding homeless persons on the NICKEL 5th street


I talked with the guy who wrote this--he tried to get me to join in his campaign of chaos by upturning public trash cans and ganging up on solo cops as I wheeled him around on his wheelchair two weeks ago.

Lament

Weep, weep for those
Who do the work of the Lord
With a high look
And a proud heart.
Their voice is lifted up
In the streets, and their cry is heard.
The bruised reed they break
By their great strength, and the smoking flax
They trample.

Weep not for the quenched
(For their God will hear their cry
And the Lord will come to save them)
But weep, weep for the quenchers

For when the Day of the Lord
Is come, and the vales sing
And the hills clap their hands
And the light shines

Then their eyes shall be opened
On a waste place,
Smouldering,
The smoke of the flax bitter
In their nostrils,
Their feet pierced
By broken reed-stems . . .
Wood, hay, and stubble,
And no grass springing.
And all the birds flown.

Weep, weep for those
Who have made a desert
In the name of the Lord.

by Evangeline Paterson

David

The other day I was walking to the library, and I was hailed by a skinny man with a cardboard sign which had "Looking for a miracle" on it. He asked me for a miracle, followed by, "even a small one." I told him I didn't have any cash on me, and then whether or not he wanted something to eat, mentioning that I could buy him something from the Carl's Junior down the street. He was excited about that, and I came back with a Big hamburger, a banana milkshake, and a spicy chicken sandwhich (which I got for myself). As we ate, he told me a little more--he didn't have any family in the area because he was an orphan from Cuba, and he had been on the streets for ten years, but avoided skid row area because of the danger. He told me there were warehouse jobs that were hiring, and he was hoping to get one. I gave him my number, and he told me that he would give me a call later.

Walking away without a name

As I was walking back from the library to Little Tokyo, I noticed a lady walking out of the library who was leaning over to one side as she walked, burdened by the four bags she was carrying. Although my sense of smell is quite weak, I could smell her as she walked by, and wondered when the last time she had a shower was. I took out my earphones, wanting to help her out somehow, but not knowing how to do so. I paused, looking at her as she shuffled off, wondering how someone as young as she ended up on the streets (she looked to be about 35 or younger). Remembering I had three dollars of Mcdonalds coupons with me, I caught up to her and asked her if she wanted them, and she thanked me and took them, speaking with an accent that sounded European. I wanted the conversation to continue, but I had nothing else to say, and she shuffled off, and I rolled my bag past her. I continued walking slowly a couple more blocks, thinking and praying about her. I let her catch up, and foolishly said, "That looks heavy" because I could think of nothing else to say. She walked on without saying a word, and I wondered what I could have said to her to assure her that I meant no harm and that I simply wanted to help, perhaps with a meal, or something else. I have realized that it is much harder for me to have a good conversation with someone out on the streets if I approach them, than if they approach me.

Comparisons

I was looking through a list of old quotes about living amongst the poor, and I came across this one by David Brainerd--
"Such fatigues and hardship as these serve to wean me more from the earth; and, I trust, will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed to cold, rain, etc., I was ready to please myself with the thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm fire, and other outward comforts; but now these have less place in my heart (through the grace of God) and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world I expect tribulation; and it does not now, as formerly, appear strange to me; I don't in such seasons of difficulty flatter myself that it will be better hereafter; but rather think how much worse it might be; how much greater trials others of God's children have endured; and how much greater are yet perhaps reserved for me. Blessed be God that he makes (=is) the comfort to me, under my sharpest trials, and scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror or melancholy; but they are attended frequently with great joy."
I realize that most of the time, I compare myself with those who have more than me, not with those who have less. I may lay asleep at night and think of being on a nice warm bed, or I may think of those who are married and wish I had someone laying next to me, or a myriad of things that I could wish were different about my life. But what if I compared myself rather to those who had less--perhaps remembering those who suffer tortures for their love of Jesus, or those who have no sleeping bag as they lay asleep under the stars in the mean streets, perhaps then I'd realize how rich I am in so many ways.

Reggie

I was on my way to my daily washing and breakfast at the local Subway on Broadway and listening to the book of James on my CD player when I was hailed down for some change by a short man sitting in a little alcove. As I pulled out my earphones and responded to him, I noticed he had a sore, bleeding spot on the top of his forehead. He told me he had Aids and was hungry, and continued to share more of his story as I sat down next to him. I asked him about why he had rolled up peices of toilet paper in his ears, and he calmly told me that it was to keep the evil voices out of his head--voices telling him to be angry and upset with the way people sometimes ignored him, denying him even a single penny for food. I remember the way I have felt a similar angst when I've gone door to door raising money for a shelter and was rejected after finally barganning down from $150 to a cent. He shared more, how he was rejected by his family after the AIDS became full blown--I asked him if it was because they were scared of him, and he acknowledged the fact, putting his head in his face as he cried about his mother abandoning him only seven months ago. He had grown up always wanting to be a good kid, he said, and tried to pray hard and go to church and do all the right things, but his feelings for other guys wouldn't go away. He was told by church people that he would go to hell for feeling that way, but he just couldn't change.

Including people

One of the purposes of this blog is to help me get out some of my frustrations with myself. Recently, I was talking with an old college buddy and he mentioned to me that one of his frustrations with me was that when we were in a group together, he felt left out by me. It was more complicated than that, and there were other issues involved, but I think this must be one of my weaknesses because the same thing happened this weekend when I went on a camping trip with my coworkers from the LA Homeless Services Coalition. I spent most of my time hanging out with a couple new friends I just made, and neglected to make an intentional effort to spend time with some of my old friends, especially one in particular, who felt hurt by my lack of attention given to her. I am a little surprised by these two examples, because I had always prided myself in my ability to include people. But I'm so glad that I have recieved these warnings so close to eachother, so that by God's mercy I won't let something like this happen again. Yet I know I will, most likely, so I must cling to the One who never leaves any of us behind.

Christianity a kind of cruelty?

"If Christianity is to be preached in truth to those who are happy, to those who enjoy life, then Christianity is a kind of cruelty. This is why it is far easier to proclaim the consolation of Christianity--to cripples."
--Soren Kierkegaard

Being Steve, the gnome

After a great trip hiking up and down the Grand Canyon with my friend Stephanie from college, I had her drop me off at a Pilate truck stop ten miles outside of Flagstaff, AZ, so that I could hitch a ride out to LA. I was so tired I spent the first four hours getting breakfast and sitting reading in a comfy chair at a McDonald's. I finally got the guts to step outside the door and begin my routine. After several hours and no ride, I was feeling rather bummed. I kept on telling myself to be patient, but it wasn't working. So, to comfort myself, I started calling up a bunch of people in my cellphone. So some of them got to see an inside look at my hitchhiking style as I temporarily paused the conversation to ask someone coming out of the store "Excuse me sir, are you headed west?" The most common reply was a quick no, or a "yes, but I can't take a rider with me." Most major trucking companies have insurance policies with them so that they can't take riders with them. Finally, after four more hours of asking, and taking breaks in between, i finally got a ride at about 8 pm, just as it was getting dark. A guy named Josh told me he'd give me a ride, and I was so overjoyed I offered to buy him dinner, but he said he was cool. He was waiting around the stop for his other trucker buddies to catch up to him, but he finally decided to leave the stop because it was getting crowded. So I ran ahead and got my backpack and we were off. He is a hawler of livestock, and apparently livestock truckers are known as the "badasses" of the trucking world. But he is a friendly, kind of small guy about my height, who wears "preppy" clothes. On the CB he sounds like a man in his late forties, with his South Dakotan draw, although he is only 26. He was going to play a trick on his trucking buddies by tricking them into thinking I was his troll friend "Steve" on the CB radio. He plans to come back to LA to visit me with his girlfriend later on.

Reflection on joy and satisfaction

I just read an article by Larry Crabb and he brought up some interesting ideas about why we sin. His friend was having an affair, and the article explains the anguish Larry feels at seeing his friend make this bad choice, and why he thought he did it. In the western church we seem to have this idea that trully following Jesus is going to alwaysbproduce in us a greater soul satisfaction and joy than living in sin. But sometimes, as perhaps in the case of an affair, living in sin might actually at certain points produce more satisfaction to the felt needs of our souls than following Jesus. I want to learn to follow Jesus not just because following him makes me feel good but because following and loving Him is the only sensible response to His overwhelming love for us.

Juanita

As I was entering the yellow line station up in Pasadena after spending a wonderful hour at the Zepher (a coffee shop with lots of character) with my friends from Chicago, I met an interesting lady in a wheelchair, who appeared to be in her fifties and was brimming over with happiness. After sitting down next to her in the train, she proceeded to share her life after giving praise to God. Perhaps a little of her youthful joy was due to the fact that at the age of eighteen she had an accident and lost all of her memory. All of it. She had to relearn how to walk, how to talk, and essentially lived a new life, in a new country (when her parents moved to Spain) so that she legally had her name changed from Janet to Juanita. As she grew older, she prayed for a husband and gave God very specific requirements--he had to be a man of God, care for her in her condition (without thinking of her any less because of her affliction), and God answered her prayer with a man who met her right in front of her door.

Consolation?

"I believe that the religion of the middle class was always tempted to use Scripture primarily to dispense consolation. But the Word of God, like a mirror, must first confront us with ourselves. Second, it has to challenge us to live in a new way, to lead a life of authentic brotherlyness and sisterlyness--economically, politically, socially, and spiritually. Only after the Word of God has confronted and challenged us do we have the right to take consolation from the word of God as well. But we've drawn consolation from the Bible before we changed our lives!"
--Richard Rohr, from Simplicity

I am also reminded of an example Kevin used in his sermon last week--about a friend of his who would suddenly shut his Bible with a loud clap, explaining to anyone who asked that he couldn't take any more in until he was obedient to what he already knew.

Dishes?

I've been reading from Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove's book called New Monasticism, and I'd like to quote from it. He quotes from Chris Rice--"It is enough to get the love of God into your bones and to lice as if you are forgiven. It is enough to care for eachother, to forgive eachother, to forgive eachother, and to wash the dishes." He is responding to our tendency to want to change others around us to be more like what we think they should be like. But what strikes me about the quote is the last line, which sticks out like a sore thumb against the beautiful idealism of what i think loving eachother looks like, or so I sometimes think. Perhaps washing dishes, such a commonplace act that seems so routine (or distasteful, or both) encapsulates what love looks like in action better than most activities. Indeed, perhaps it is in the "commonplace," the banal activities of life that our love (for God and others) is truly tested. I'm also reminded of dear brother Lawrence, to whom dishwashing was such a chore until the constant "practice" of God's presence turned this simple activity into a holy sacrament.

Service Necessary for Community

"Every church community that doesn't include an outwardly directed service for others, a service extending beyond itself, is simply not a Church, its not Christ. It's psychology or false transcendence. That doesn't mean that psychology is a bad thing; it just isn't the same thing."
--Richard Rohr in Simplicity

Sauce, my friend

Today I was walking back to my campsite, and I saw my friend Sauce panhandling outside a late night restaurant. I was so glad to see her--it had been about a week or more since I last saw her. She said that she had been staying at Venice beach--a nicer crowd over there. She doesn't feel as scared that she will be raped. But even here, she discovered that if she quickly hid inside a cardboard box so that no one saw it was a woman who got inside she would be safe from attack. She also mentioned that if she kept panhandling outside of the restaurant there was a good chance the cops would come to arrest her (she had just seen the owner of the restaurant come out and she said he had called the cops on her before. She told me more of her life--how when she was young her mother had hid her from the authorities because the Cambodian government was at war and was eliminating any one who could not be helpful to the war effort including handicapped people like her (she has withered hands). She eventually fled to Thailand via Vietnam, and married an American GI, who later in life became crazy and began to hit her, which is why she fled to the street. Yet she is one of the most gracious people I have met--she could have deep bitterness against all those who have ill-treated her, but her response to her pain in life is more like a deep sadness. Yet she does know God, and I had a blessed time praying with her.

Pain

I was helping out with the highschool kids, playing basketball, getting all sweaty, when one of the older kids, Jeremiah, jumped for the ball and then lay on the ground, moaning and giving out almost screams. Some of the kids thought he was playing, because he had the kind of cocky personality that would put on that kind of show. But he wasn't. Eventually, we took him to the hospital, after carrying him and his twisted ankle (perhaps dislocated) into the car. I was reminded once again that I have rairly faced much serious physical pain in my life. Dehibilitating pain. So that you can hardly think anything except perhaps little cries for help, like a baby. Perhaps someday I will understand this pain personally, instead of simply through watching others suffer, but I hope that nonetheless God will grant me some level of gut wrenching compassion ("to suffer with") for those who feel pain this way.

Dag

It is playing safe that we create a world of utmost insecurity.
--Dag Hammarskjold

Self Deceit and Money

Last Friday, I went to a wonderfully delightful reunion of LAUP, (Los Angeles Urban Project) and it was great to see old friends. I was challenged once again by Kevin Blue's sermon from Luke 16 about the rich man and Lazarus. The context of the passage being that Jesus was addressing a group of Pharisees--the religious leaders of the day--those who were comfortable in their own salvation. In the section just before, he was addressing the subject of money, and they ridiculed him, because they were "lovers of money." And he responds to their hearts by saying "You are those who justify yourselves before men, but God knows your hearts. For what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God." Kevin pointed out something that still haunts me about this passage--that it is possible to be self-deceived. Indeed, "the heart is deceitful above all things." Which means that even those who outwardly appear to be faithful to God may be further from Him than most. It also means that I, who have recieved so much--so much good teaching, so many good examples of the walk of Jesus--I need to be examining my heart, and letting God continually change me. Even despite my current position of sleeping on the street--I am still tempted to overindulge myself on things I don't need, like expensive food, etc. Another point that Kevin made was that we should not compare ourselves with those above us economically to judge our discipleship in regard to money, but to those who are below us. In fact, all of us who are college educated in the states are rich (as rich as the rich man compared to Lazarus perhaps?) compared to many who live in slums and who are homeless.

Circles or Squares?

Yesterday I was helping a member of Central City Church (AJ) to help set up chairs in the main hall for church on Sunday after working with the kids earlier. Another guy was there who was setting up chairs for a Bible study he was having that night. He had one chair set up facing two other chairs, and when I brought out another chair to put next to the solo one, he told me to put it next to the other two. I then realized that he didn't want a perfect circle, but to have one chair (his) facing the others in a semicircle. I remember thinking "why not put them in a full circle--why do you have to be facing the rest just because you are the 'leader?'" Then I was reading a book called "Simplicity" by Richard Rohr, who always blows me away, and he was sharing how the 12 step groups always sit in a circle--not like a square or rectangle that most churches have, which focus in on one person or a group of people up front performing, rather than having everyone face eachother's brokenness as equals. "When people get together in solidarity and unity, not out of power but out of powerlessness, then Christ is in their midst."

Sorrow and Joy

How do we reconcile "he was a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering" with "These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full." ?

More thoughts on Romantic love

Needless to say, I do have a desire to be married at some point, but that desire is matched and exceeded by my desire to be used by God among the little and the poor of the world. With the exception of Kagawa, most of the other ministers among the poor that I either know or have read about either never married or were married late (around the age of forty or later). I don't want to wait that long, so I suppose what I really want is to continue learning and growing in God's love through living with His beloved poor and to meet someone who is just as passionate to live similarly (if not a desire to sleep with the homeless than a desire to pour her heart out in the slums because of Jesus). I want a partner in this, but I also realize that my desire for simplicity and incarnational living must be values in her heart as well.

Thoughts on romance

I've been reading a biography of Toyohiko Kagawa by Cyril Davey that is blowing my mind (Kagawa is one of my heroes). His courtship with his wife is interesting--but what struck me the most was Kagawa's prayer concerning the seeming conflict between his vocation of living in the slums and his blossoming love for Haru. Here is one of his poems--
Love, linger not to whisper your temptation,
Seek not to bind me with your heavy chain.
I would be free to seek the world's salvation,
I would be free to rescue men from pain.

When Haru indicated to him that she wanted to fully join him in his work in the slums, he asked her to marry him, and their beautiful wedding was not followed up by a relaxing week on some refreshing island escape, but by a short jinriksha ride back to Kagawa's hut in the slum of Shinkawa.
Needless to say, life was hard for the couple, and Kagawa wrote the following to his love--

You who dwell
In the heart of my heart,
Listen to me;
This you must know--
I am a child of grief and pain,
Bending my fingers to count my woe.
You yield me
Everything;
But I
Have nothing
I can bring
To give to you.
Know
You have married
Poverty, sorrow;
Bear it with me;
The storm will be over
Tomorrow.
A little while
For us
The rod;
And then,
Then, God!

Singled out

Sitting on a stairway, looking into my itouch ( I splurged so that I could get on the Internet when outside) and reading a blog and listening to Rich Mullins, suddenly a flahlight is shining in my face, a white cop asks me
"you seem to hang out here quite a bit--is that true?" ( we are conversing near an expensive frozen yogurt shop)
"well not every day"
"do you live around here?"
"yes"
"where?"
(!!!!!!!who cares where I live--mind your own business!!!)
"down the street"--I point off in the direction of my chosen abode, my backpack sitting comfortably in front of me, betraying my rooflessness
"well, just remember not to sit in the chairs of the Pinkberry unless you've bought something."

(context--I hang out near the pinkberry because I get free wireless access from a stray signal--I've sat in the chairs twice without buying something--and I doubt the cop would have said anything to me if I didnt have a bag in front of me with clothes air- drying on it that almost shouts--"look at me--I sleep under the stars")
I share this story because I'm reminded once again how little it takes to get the attention of the authorities if you are homeless, no matter how innocent you are, or how harmless you look (I got a compliment the other day from an elderly man on the streets that I "clean up well"

Interview in Portland

I found an article online written by a guy who interviewed me on the street when I was homeless in Portland. Here is the link if you're interested--you have to scroll down a couple stories till you get to mine--Nathan.
http://bookbanshee.securespsite.com/Sociology/Youth%20Stories%20-%20Book%20In%20Progress.doc

Are you mad?

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars"
--Jack Kerouac

Does Jesus' love conquer all?

I met a lady after getting up today--I was looking for one of the public restrooms that are self-cleaning and I asked her where the closest one was. Apparently she needed to Ise it as well, so she went with me to it, and along the way opened up a bit. I've found that a simple kind smile and the backpack I wear enables people to feel comfortable around me enough to share. She spoke words of hate and scorn for LA and its people--speaking against her black brothers and sisters for being crazy, and the whites and Indians of being racist. She said that of those people living in skid row she wishes that they would go to hell. When I tried to argie with her about her perspective, she told me--wait till you are beaten up and all your stuff is stolen, then come back and tell me of Jesus' love. I was humbled again by the lack of suffering I have personally gone through at the hands of others. I hope that when my faith is tested even more that God will give me the strength to stand.

Back in LA

I'm back in LA now--I slept outside in skid row after saying goodbye to my friend in Lincoln Heights and took a short metro rail to downtown LA. I had a good idea where I wanted to sleep--close to skid row, but not on one of the busy streets. I also wanted to find out whether the Reformation House of prayer was still running--I eventually found it, but it was locked (it used to be open 24/7) So I have to volunteer to run a shift, then I can get access to it. I think it will be a helpful routine for me to get up at 6 am and go there for a shift, then get cleaned up somewhere before volunteering at Central City Community Church to work with kids afterschool. That's the plan--yes indeed.