“Oh, the joys of those who are kind to the poor! The Lord rescues them when they are in trouble. The Lord protects them and keeps them alive. He gives them prosperity in the land and rescues them from their enemies. The Lord nurses them when they are sick and restores them to health.”
Psalms 41:1-3 NLT
I wonder why these verses haven’t been used by the proponents of the so called “health and wealth” gospel. It definitely seems like on its face, this psalm is offering a formula for supernatural protection and prosperity.
“Take care of the poor and God will take care of you.”
I think it’s easy to assume that the universe should operate with this divine retirement plan, but I’m not sure it does.
As I look around at all the men and women who I’ve worked with over the last 7 years that serve those who experience homelessness in NYC and N.J., I’d say that while God is definitely invested in their lives, there is no guarantee of any supernatural protection policy.
I know marriages that have fallen apart in service to the poor. I know men who have relapsed into addiction while helping the addicted. I know women who have been assaulted while protecting those who are being victimized. And I know children who miss their parents because serving homeless folks is never a 9-5 job.
Yet, the psalmist writes, “the joys of those who are kind to the poor.” I don’t think the word “joy” means the same thing as “happiness.” Being kind to those who are financially poor doesn’t always translate into happiness. I can honestly say I have experienced far more heartbreak than happiness over the last seven years. But joy? Absolutely. There is a deep reservoir of joy that only comes by investing your time, talent, and treasure into improving the lives of the poor and those who are experiencing homelessness.
The psalmist writes that God “rescues” them, “protects” them, and “keeps them alive.” Obviously this isn’t a universal guarantee. But it is absolutely true that I have personally experienced all of those realities as a direct result of my work at New York City Relief. I think it’s true that God personally intervenes in the lives of the poor and those who serve them. Not that he doesn’t intervene in the lives of those who don’t, and not that God installs spiritual bubble suits on those that do.
But serving the poor is sort of like swimming in the ocean near a life guard stand. The waves are huge, the sharks are dangerous, and the jelly fish sting hurts like crazy. But God is carefully watching every move you make, and by serving the poor you are choosing to stay within the boundaries of God’s intention for your life and the lives of others.
The psalmist goes on to say that God gives them “prosperity” and “nurses them back to health.” This makes me think that prosperity is in the eye of the beholder. I don’t know about you, but after a day of spending time with folks who only have the clothes on their back, the shoes on their feet, and sometimes not even that much, I come home to my closet and my shower and I can’t help but feel like the richest man alive. I also know that sickness and disability are rampant in the homeless community and the fact that I have a place to rest and recover makes my life so much easier than the vast majority of people in the world.
Now let me be clear. I’m not saying that serving the poor is a one-way ticket to the middle class dream of American capitalism. What I’m saying is that we are all swimming in a metaphorical ocean that is going to take us down eventually, and caring for the poor is one of the best ways to make sure that when we start to drown, we are positioned in the best possible location for a God who saves.
