The Cosmic Lifegaurd (Originally posted: 2018)

“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.

The Poor You Will Always Have With You (Originally posted: 2018)

“Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. ‘But not during the festival,’ they said, ‘or the people may riot.’ 

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.

Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, ‘Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.’ And they rebuked her harshly.

‘Leave her alone,’ said Jesus. ‘Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.'” Mark 14:1-9

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard Christians justify doing nothing for the poor and the homeless by quoting the words of Jesus found in Mark 14:7: “The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me.”

Now, besides the obvious irony of using the words of the same man who told the parables of the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son, the same man who highlighted the significance of the widow’s generosity, and the same man who constantly warned of the dangers of greed, in order to excuse not lifting a finger to help the poor, there is also another fundamental problem.

No one would argue that Jesus didn’t know the Jewish Scriptures. No one would argue that he was ignorant of what the texts of Moses and the Prophets actually said. Over and over again, Jesus is referred to as “Rabbi” or “teacher.” One of his most common activities was going to the local synagogues and teaching the Scriptures to his fellow Jews.

Even if you don’t believe he rose from the dead or performed miracles, whether or not Jesus understood and taught the Torah is not in question. So here he is, having a woman lavish him with very expensive perfume, and he defends her actions by quoting from Deuteronomy 15:7-11:

If anyone is poor among your fellow Israelites in any of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward them. Rather, be openhanded and freely lend them whatever they need. Be careful not to harbor this wicked thought: “The seventh year, the year for canceling debts, is near,” so that you do not show ill will toward the needy among your fellow Israelites and give them nothing. They may then appeal to the Lord against you, and you will be found guilty of sin. Give generously to them and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.

It was not uncommon for Jesus to reference the Scriptures with a fill-in-the-blank teaching style. In this case, everyone would have known that when Jesus says, “There will always be poor people in the land”, what came next was, “…therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.”

So just to be clear, before you quote this one verse as a sort of shoulder-shrug, or “what can you do” response to the needs of the poor and the homeless, just remember that Jesus wasn’t suggesting that singing songs for thirty minutes on Sunday morning somehow excuses you from the commands of God. Jesus so overtly identified with the needs of the poor that in another gospel story, he is quoted as saying that whatever is done for one needy person, is done to him (Matthew 25:34-40).

Can we agree that whatever implications can be drawn from the words of Jesus in Mark 14:7, he is not saying, “Just make sure that you do a bunch of spiritual stuff like pray and go to church because that’s what really matters?” I’m no scholar, but it seems more likely to me that Jesus is connecting the dots between the excessive generosity that was poured out on him, and the kind of generosity that is commanded in Deuteronomy 15.

As it turns out, this woman was living out the commands of the Torah more faithfully than any of the religious leaders who reclined around the table. I think that Jesus was pointing out that her generosity was the standard by which all generosity will be measured. In verse 9, Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Having worked at New York City Relief for over seven years, I can tell you that offering our homeless neighbors our best is always more impactful than offering our leftovers. I happen to believe that Jesus did rise from the dead and actually did perform miracles. I also think that if we are going to accurately reflect the heart of Christianity to a skeptical world, we need to start treating the poor and the homeless a little more like this woman treated Jesus, instead of hiding behind her generosity in order justify our own greed. Just sayin…

Top 5 Homeless Outreach Tips

I’ve been doing outreach with men and women experiencing homelessness in New York City and New Jersey for almost nine years. I have also done hundreds of trainings for volunteers who want to engage with their homeless neighbors but don’t know how. Here are my Top 5 Homeless Outreach Tips:

TIP #1

Start a Conversation:

• Eye contact helps. So do smiles (not in a creepy way).

• Greet the person. Ask a question about something nonintrusive (weather, sports, directions, etc…).

• Then listen. Bring nothing into your listening.  Just Listen.

• Offer your first name before you ask for his (I like to say, “What do your friends call you?).

• Even if she is telling a story that you think, or even know, is impossible, simply give her the chance to speak her mind.

1 Corinthians 13:7 says that “love hopes all things” so always hope she is telling you the truth, unless what she is asking of you requires some action that you feel is unwise or unsafe.

• Show interest. Be quick to laugh at his jokes, but don’t force it.

• The more interest you show, the deeper you’ll go. Your conversations will be as shallow as your ability to demonstrate that you care about his or her story.

• Don’t stretch the conversation longer than necessary.

• Feel free to ask if you can pray for the person, but don’t force it.

• If you pray, make it short and to the point. Pray with your eyes open. Say thank you for the opportunity and that you hope to see them again.

• Repeat his or her name so you will remember.

TIP #2 

Boundaries:

• Just as you make it clear that he or she can be honest with you, don’t be afraid to be honest about personal boundaries with someone you meet. If someone asks why or seems annoyed that you are self-protecting, you can always say, “I just met you! I don’t know who you are!”

  • You are allowed to say things like, “I won’t do that.” “I can’t do that” etc…

  • Don’t give out your personal information (phone number, address, email, social media) until you have an established relationship with the person.

  • EVEN THEN, be wise and don’t do or share anything you wouldn’t with someone you just met at the movie theater or bar.

  • Don’t make anyone feel trapped. Never approach someone with more than 2 people. Don’t hover over an individual who is sitting on the sidewalk or laying down on a bench. If necessary, kneel down or ask for permission to sit next to the person.

  • If you have the option, approach folks with someone of the same gender. Many homeless women have had terrible experiences with men and will open up more quickly with a female volunteer.

 TIP #3

Giving Money:

• Giving cash is probably not the best thing to do, but it is rarely the worst. 

• If you do, don’t give a lot.

• If you don’t feel comfortable giving away cash, be honest. Instead of, “I don’t have any money,” try: “I’m sorry, but I don’t give money to strangers.”

  • WHY? Monetary exchange is almost always a poor foundation for a healthy relationship.

  • Honesty is often reciprocated. You’re more likely to get what you give.

  • If someone is panhandling, ask for permission to take some of his or her time. Don’t assume that he or she wants your company.

  • By asking, you will show the person respect as a human being and he or she will be more likely to hear what you have to say or be open to your company.

• Always prioritize 2-way conversation over bulk distribution. Be wise about how you give things away in high population spots like public transportation hubs, busy tourist spots, or in front of a drop-in center or emergency shelter. Don’t make a scene or you might just get a scene.

• If you have socks, blankets, or toiletries to give away, always ask the person if he or she would be interested first. Don’t make assumptions.

• If he or she says ‘no’, ask if he/she might know someone who would be interested.

• If the person expresses a need that can be met by running to the store and buying something small, feel free to do so. Never give the person cash for the same item and if they ask for the receipt, consider alternative arrangements.

  • GIFT CARDS ARE GREAT (McDonald’s or Dunkin Donuts allow the man or woman to purchase something that will give her a safe, warm place to sit and enjoy a meal after you leave).

TIP #4

If they are sleeping:

• DON’T WAKE THEM UP! Homeless folks sometimes average 2-3 hours of sleep a night. They are often awakened by police and security guards and moved indiscriminately. This makes sleep precious,

  • Feel free to observe whether his chest is going up and down. Make sure his lips are not blue.

  • IF you think someone may not be breathing or his lips are blue, call 911 immediately and loudly say, “excuse me, sir!”

  • Don’t leave items next to a sleeping person.

  • These things will probably just get stolen anyway.

  • And if someone is already stealing the pair of socks (or item you left), they might help themselves to the person’s backpack or wallet, with all their ID’s in there, while they’re at it.

  • Again, relationship is the goal. 

TIP #5

Safety:

• If someone is visibly unwell, do not extend the conversation beyond what is appropriate. 

• Just be kind and compassionate, but assume that if someone isn’t coherent or is just behaving erratically, this is probably not the best time to make a heart connection over coffee.

• Many women in the streets have been victims of sexual violence, so if you are a man trying to connect with a homeless women, consider bringing a female friend with you. And if you are a woman trying to connect with a homeless man, be aware that it is not alright for you to be treated inappropriately no matter what the person’s living situation may be. 

• If the person seems completely out of control or volatile, please call 911 or 311 depending on how severe the situation might seem.

• Use common sense. Call for help if you think someone is unsafe, but don’t call just because you feel uncomfortable. For example, don’t call 911 because there is a homeless person talking to himself. We all have internal conversations going on all the time, and when you have nobody to share with for long periods of time, it can sometimes lead to voicing them out loud.

________________________________________

FINAL NOTE:  The average life expectancy for our homeless neighbors is approximately thirty years shorter than the national average (National Coalition for the Homeless Fact Sheet). Know that building a relationship with someone might just add years to his life.

Learn about the resources that exist in your community for men and women experiencing homelessness. Where are the shelters? Free food and clothing? Volunteer and give to support these programs, it will make you better at outreach and help you understand why the situation exists and how you can help.

Don’t be afraid and don’t put too much pressure on yourself. The founder of New York City Relief likes to say, “God only uses one kind of person: the kind that shows up.” 

Our homeless neighbors are made in the image of God. They are infinitely loved and wonderfully made. Stop waiting for the stars to align. Just get out there and make it happen!

What's the Point?

What’s the point? Why should we bother to do the seemingly thankless job of “spending ourselves in behalf of the hungry” as it says in Isaiah 58? I can’t even count the number of times over the last 7 years where every effort that I made to invest in someone didn’t generate any obvious return or positive outcome.

There was a young lady who usually hung out on the corner of Park Ave and E 125th Street. She was obviously unwell. She kept a shawl over one eye and would behave erratically. She was dressed in rags that would leave large sections of her body exposed and would shout at people around her, both visible and invisible. One day I was leading the outreach in Harlem and I had a line of people waiting to speak to me. As I spoke to one person after another, I noticed this same woman about two back from the front. As she never expressed any interest to talk to anybody on our team, I decided to ask the others who were ahead of her if they would mind waiting for a few minutes while I spoke with her. They graciously agreed.

“Hi there. My name is Josiah, what’s yours?” I cautiously extended my hand.

“I think I’m demon possessed, can you help me?” Not what I was expecting.

“Probably. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Yes.”

I led her to the office in the front of the Relief Bus and sat down with her. Then I asked a question that you never plan on using, “What makes you think that you’re demon possessed?” She proceeded to tell me about her religious views, her drug addiction(s), her abortions, her kids, and most importantly, her abuse. We talked for about 15 minutes at which point I offered to pray over her. She reluctantly agreed.

“Jesus, this is your daughter. She needs your intervention in her life. She needs your mercy. Your forgiveness. Your hope. With the authority of Jesus Christ, the one who died on the cross and rose again on the third day, I rebuke anything that is clinging to my friend here. Fall back. Let her be. You have no authority over her.”

I prayed with my eyes open. She just stared right back at me. No shaking, crying, shrieking, or anything. Stillness. Empty eyes.

“Amen.” She kept staring at me.

“Can I ask you a question?” I decided to push a little deeper.

“Sure.”

“Have you ever thought about getting into a program to help you stop using crack?”

“Yeah. But it never works out.”

“Can I try to help?”

“Sure.”

I talked to her about a program in Garrison, NY where women could get a fresh start. I asked her if she was willing to talk to one of their intake counselors.

“Sure.”

We called the intake number and 45 minutes later I was helping her onto a train that would take her out of the city and to the program.

The next day I was back in Harlem and as I was trying to rotate the volunteers, I heard someone shouting near E 125th Street. I looked up, and sure enough, there she was, complete with a shawl over one eye, staring down a guy who happened to be walking by. I noticed that she was wearing some new clothing that she must have gotten at the program. I called the program later and found out that she didn’t even stay for an hour.

What’s the point? Let’s start with what the point is NOT, shall we?

The point is not to shove people who aren’t ready into drug programs. The point is not to hide all the people in our society that make us uncomfortable and remind us that we have a lot of work to do. The point is not to pat ourselves on the back and say, “look how awesome we are!” The point is not to pity the less fortunate and be thankful for all the “blessings” that we have.

After seven years of doing this work with countless “failures” and false starts, I think the point is simply to remember that value is defined by presence, and not by productivity. With every failed attempt to help someone get off the street, we are given the opportunity to redefine how worth is ascribed. If Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead to save us from our sins because he believed that we were worth the effort, then we are left with a simple question: what are the people living in poverty, brokenness, and homelessness worth?

If you think your investment is only as valuable as the return that you get, you will be perpetually disappointed and you will constantly attach strings and expectations to your generosity that will drain the power out of your sacrifice. If you are constantly measuring the impact of your giving based on the outcomes that you see, you will eventually grow tired of constantly scanning the horizon for some indication that you are doing the right thing.

But what if the person lying in the street, or the husband that you married when you were young, or the kid that just won’t get his crap together, is intrinsically valuable? What if the outcomes of your investment are not contingent on their receptivity, but on your generosity?

So what’s the point? The point is that Jesus reveals a God who believes that our worth is not defined by our abilities and our accomplishments, but by our very existence. And if we want to call ourselves Christians, we’d better start choosing to love and care for those who have seemingly no intention or inclination to accept what we are offering, or even to say, “thank you.”

To live and love like Jesus means ascribing worth to the worthless, hope to the hopeless, and mercy to the merciless, regardless of what they do with it along the way.

The point is to be salt and light in a tasteless and dark world that is desperate for a reason to exist. I have no idea where that woman is today. I have no idea if she is even alive.

So what was the point? She was. She was the point. I can’t say that my effort made any longterm difference in her lifestyle or in her spirituality, but I can say that in as much as it was up to me, I was was able to affirm her worth as a daughter of God, bought and paid for, with the precious blood of Jesus. I pray that you are able to find someone to love regardless of what he or she does with it because only then will you get a glimpse of how God feels about you.

What We Think About Homelessness Matters

She leans forward with her head in her hands. The dirt in her hair matches the color of her
fingernails. Her cardboard sign sits exposed on her lap as it makes its appeal to anyone who looks down in time to see the human being sitting on the sidewalk: “Pregnant & Homeless. Please Help.”

It’s a familiar scene in many cities across the United States. In New York City the number of people sleeping in public shelters is currently hovering around 55,000. Estimates vary on those who are on subways, park benches, and cardboard mattresses, but all of them are significant.

The bottom line is that if you travel into any major city in the United States, you will inevitably encounter someone who is without sustainable housing. So what do you do? How should you respond?

One of my friends who lives in a more suburban environment recently told me that in a few weeks, she and her husband are bringing their child to NYC for the first time, and she asked me a great question: “What are some sensitive things we can tell him in preparation for the homeless population we may see?”

I’ve written pretty extensively on best practices for engaging folks who are homeless or panhandling. I haven’t spent as much time addressing some of the common misunderstandings and assumptions surrounding homelessness and why we should change the way we think about the people we encounter in the street.

The reality is that if we don’t change the way we think about homelessness, we will never be able to serve our homeless neighbors without doing more harm than good..

Homeless people are not all drug addicts. According to one report by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, in 2003 around 38% of homeless folks were dependent on alcohol and 26% abused other drugs (Substance Abuse and Homelessness). So even if this study happens to be way off, one could make the argument that not only are not all homeless people drug addicts, not even most homeless people are drug addicts.

What we think about homelessness matters and if you walk around whatever city you happen to be in assuming that every panhandler and homeless person you see is addicted to drugs or alcohol and cannot do anything but spend all their money in a self-destructive manner, you will inevitably miss the opportunity of a lifetime to engage with, and learn from, the child of God who is right in front of you.

Our assumptions tend to block our ability to learn anything new. If you already “know” then there’s nothing left to learn, and if there’s one thing that I can say about engaging someone who is struggling with homelessness, it’s that each person has something of value to teach and share.

Another assumption that I think is extremely common for people to adopt regarding their homeless neighbors is that “they don’t want to talk to me.” It’s so easy to think that someone who is sitting by themselves on the floor of Penn Station has little interest in the people around them. I mean if they did, why would they be sitting all by themselves? The irony is that as soon as that person walks up to anyone else waiting for their train, the reaction is often, “Crap, they want to talk to me!”

I think more often than not we assume that homeless folks don’t want to talk to anyone because that lets us off the hook from actually making an effort to start a conversation with a stranger. We create these wild scenarios in our minds about what they might say in response to our mildest of initiatives and we literally talk ourselves out of talking to someone who might be dying for any contact from another human being.

It’s true that some homeless folks don’t want to engage with people who are walking past them, but it is not true that all homeless folks want to be left alone. One of the most common issues associated with homelessness is isolation and one of the best ways to help someone who is homeless is to simply smile and say hello.

I think another aspect of this assumption is that we feel so guilty about not being able to “help” the person in some tangible way, that we avoid making contact because we are afraid that if they ask us for something like money or food, we will be stuck between a rock and a hard place.

It’s true that if you initiate contact with someone who is homeless, he or she might ask you for money. It’s also true that you can say, “No, I’m not going to give you any money today” without destroying the person’s sense of self. Don’t forget that people say, “no” all day long, usually by simply pretending that the person asking doesn’t exist. Far fewer actually take the time to say, “Hi! What’s your name?” Trust me, you can say hello without pulling money out of your pocket, even if the person asks you for it.

Lastly, I think we need to remember that homelessness is a situation, not a state of being. That guy you walk past on your way to work every day is a human being who is dealing with homelessness, not a homeless being.

There is a difference.

In our society we are way too conditioned to associate our being with our doing. I read an article once by a guy who shredded the fact that we often ask our kids, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Obviously, this question actually implies, “What do you want to do as a career when you grow up?” If you don’t believe me, go ahead and try it with anyone under the age of ten. I promise that you will get answers like, fireman, police officer, scientist, or astronaut. The fact that we don’t make that distinction when we are talking to our kids shows just how ingrained this twisted ideology is.

We are not what we do, and the same should be remembered about our homeless neighbors. Our society almost always considers homelessness as an identity rather than a situation. This way of thinking has infected us all to some degree. We must consider the language we use and the way we talk about people in order to change the way we interact with them. As long as we think that our homeless neighbors are more homeless than they are neighbors, we will treat them like an issue to be addressed instead of person to be loved.

So to answer my friend’s question about preparing your child for an encounter with someone who is homeless. I’d say this:

Tell you kids that people are not all born with the same opportunities, or with families that love them and take care of them. And sometimes as a result, people end up without a bed to sleep in or a place to call home. But we know as Christians that Jesus loves each person more than he or she can possibly imagine, so it’s up to us to show them. And sometimes Jesus even dresses up like a man or woman without clean clothes, a shower, or a place to sleep, so it’s extra important that we always smile and say hi, just in case it’s Jesus in disguise.

Resurrection (Originally posed: 2017)

It’s Easter morning. The sun is shining and the birds are performing. Right now thousands of people are getting dressed up and running to their cars. People who don’t believe in heaven are currently rushing like hell to get to church on time.

Meanwhile, the world spins on, unimpressed by our hustle and bustle.

I got a text last night from a friend I met at the New York City Rescue Mission a few weeks back: “J it’s Steve I can’t find a place to stay.”

Steve suffers from seizures and as a result has trouble maintaining a job that would enable him to pay the bills. Standing about six feet five, he gives the immediate impression of a gentle giant. He exhausted all of his guaranteed nights at both of the private missions in Manhattan and refuses to risk going into a public shelter because of the reputation they have.

On Friday he told me, “someone I know was raped in a city shelter last week. I’d rather sleep on the subway.” So what now? The night before Easter, my epileptic friend has no place to go.

I think it’s important to remember that resurrection is not a trite, theoretical platitude. We should celebrate Jesus rising from the dead. We should sing about the empty tomb. We should invite our friends to experience the good news that over two thousand years ago death died and as a result true life is possible.

But today, I’m reminded that resurrection doesn’t simply absolve the guilty, it inspires and activates the forgiven. The fact is that homeless folks aren’t the only ones struggling. Our churches are full of people in broken marriages, bad health, and with busted finances. How do we celebrate the rule of resurrection when it seems that death’s reign is still supreme?

I think that living a resurrected life is the best way to celebrate our resurrected King. But resurrection that’s confined to one day a year is no resurrection at all. If you celebrate Easter because you are convinced that Jesus rose from the dead, it’s time to transform an annual holiday into a daily discipline.

Dead people don’t typically un-die. If there’s one group of people who should cling to hope in the midst of hopelessness and love in the midst of hatred, it’s those of us who believe that Jesus is alive.

When Steve texted me it would have been completely understandable if I told him “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.” But irrationally, I could do something. I reached out to a friend who works at one of the missions and it turned out that against all odds, an exception was made and Steve got a shower and a bed last night. Is his living situation solved? Not even close. But if we allow the inevitability of death to keep us from living, we will never experience resurrection.

He is risen.

He is risen indeed.

I Really Need a Drink (Originally posted: 2016)

I met Chris while I was waiting for my train. I was leaning against the wall in New York Penn Station with my headphones on waiting for the track number of my train home to be displayed on the flat screen TV hanging a few steps to my left.

Suddenly a man was standing in front of me. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear him over the music in my ears. I paused the song and removed my headphones.

He started over.

“Could you help me out? I need to get $10 as soon as possible and I’ve only got $2.” He was a short African American man who was almost completely bald with a beard, wearing a yellow Brazil soccer jersey. He didn’t make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I don’t typically give out cash. What do you need it for?” I answered his question with a question.

“I’m not going to lie, I have an alcohol problem and if I don’t get $10 I am going to be hurting soon.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

“My name is Chris.” As we shook hands he asked me again, “Can you help me out?”

“Well, Chris, I work with the Relief Bus, do you know us?”

He sighed. “I know the Relief Bus.”

I pretended not to notice his obvious frustration with the fact that I wasn’t going to give him any money and moved right past it. “Have you ever thought about getting some help for your alcohol problem? Maybe go to a detox or rehab? Do you have Medicaid?”

“I’m trying to get up to Boston. My birthday is next week and I really don’t want to spend my birthday in a detox if you know what I mean. Maybe when I get back?”

“I can respect that. But you know the reality is that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed to any of us. I mean, maybe if you spend this year in a detox, you could be celebrating a year of sobriety at your next birthday?”

“I guess, but I’m not that interested in sobriety. I just want to be sustainable.”

“Well, you may not be able to have the one without the other. I mean, I may not be all that interested in falling to my death, but if I really like jumping out of airplanes without a parachute, it may not matter.”

He replied, “I hear you but I really need a drink.”

“Good luck, bro.”

God is With Us (Originally posted: 2016)

“Look! The virgin will conceive a child!
She will give birth to a son,
and they will call him Immanuel,
which means ‘God is with us.'” 
Matthew 1:23

Last January we had one of the worst blizzards in recorded history. Some of you may remember. The snow started falling late on a Friday night and seemed to just never stop. Every time we expect significant snowfall on outreach days, I ask our team to make sure they are at the Relief Base extra early so we can get the buses cleared off, locked, loaded, and on the road so that we still arrive on time.

I started working in January of 2011 and since then we have only canceled one day of outreach due to weather (aside from the 2 days of outreach we missed when Hurricane Sandy trapped most of our team in Haiti and devastated the Northeastern seaboard) and I was determined to keep our record of consistency alive and well.

My coworker and tenant, Caleb, and I woke up early and shoveled our way into my Honda CRV. My vehicle allegedly packs All Wheel Drive, but by the time we got to the bakery where we had hoped to collect a donation for that day’s outreaches, we had gotten stuck twice. We couldn’t even get to the door of the bakery as the parking lot was completely covered.

On our way back to the Relief Base we got stuck again. It was not a comfortable feeling. I realized that we had interns who drove old-school sedans and who may not have had a lot of experience driving in snow. I came to the agonizing decision that it just wasn’t wise to ask them to force it. I pictured Bryson from Wichita, Kansas smashing into a telephone pole or getting stranded on some back road as the snow got worse and worse. I sent a text out to the team, informing them that the roads were just too bad and we should all just try to get to a safe place and ride it out.

Almost as soon as I hit the send button, I got a call from a guy I had met at the Relief Bus the day before in Manhattan named Alfonso. “Are you guys coming? I don’t have anywhere to go for a meal today.”

Immediately the pain of my shattered pride was smothered in the agony of Alfonso’s plea for help. I had been upset that we had to cancel because I had trained our team that the Relief Bus goes out “no matter what.” By canceling, I felt I was being inconsistent. Hypocritical. But when Alfonso said he had no place to eat it wrecked me on a completely different level.

“I’m sorry, man. We just can’t make it today.”

“I understand. Do you know of any other places that will be serving food in the Bronx today?”

“I don’t. But I will send you the info I have on soup kitchens in the Bronx. I’d call first though, this storm is looking like it could get pretty bad.” I didn’t have any hope that a single one of the places I was sending him would be open.

Caleb and I barely managed to make it back to my driveway. My phone rang as I was kicking the snow off my boots and cursing my vehicle for its lackluster performance. One of our Senior Outreach Leaders was calling,

“Hey Brett, what’s up?”

“Seriously, we are canceling?” The knife twisted.

“Yeah. Caleb and I can’t even get to the Base, how can I ask other people to try to get there?” I know I probably sounded more pissed off than I would have liked.

“Well, we are all here.” He replied. “What would you like us to do?”

“What?”

“Yep, Bryson is here. The other interns walked here and several of us spent the night. You and Caleb are the only ones not here.”

“Well, we tried and my car won’t make the trip.”

“Why don’t I come and get you? I have a truck with 4 wheel drive and I had no issues this morning.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea!” My heart leapt. I realized that I was going to get to call Alfonso back and tell him the news: “We are on our way!”

Brett arrived a few minutes later and we headed out. We managed to get to both of our outreach locations.

Alfonso was waiting for us when we arrived in Harlem.

In Matthew it says that Jesus will be called “Immanuel, which means God is with us.” Too many people in this world think that God is a figment of our imagination. Too many people think that even if there is a God, he is ambivalent, missing in action, pointless.

The hard truth for those of us who profess the name of Jesus is that too often the reason people think that God is not “with us” is because we are not with them. 

The reason the Relief Bus goes to the streets “no matter what” is because we want our words to mean something to the people we serve. Too many folks living in the street have been let down by those who say one thing and do another. Too many people sleeping on subways and on park benches have been told about a God who is “with them” but have yet to see the Body of Christ back it up.

I’m convinced that the best way to introduce people who are lost to the hope of heaven after death is to give them a taste of it right here and now. I love how Bono, the lead singer of U2 says it:

“God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house. God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives. God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war. God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them.”

Grace and Peace,

Josiah

New York Blizzard 2016. To find out more about us visit: newyorkcityrelief.org

It’s Time to Rethink How We Talk About People Who Fight Poverty (Originally posted: 2016)

There is this really thought provoking article that Relevant Magazine just tweeted called It’s Time to Rethink How We Fight Poverty. In it Sophie Hathaway makes a great case for the next generation to engage systemic injustice and to start by thinking long term development instead of short term relief.

I get it. Helping people see beyond quick-fix solutions to issues like homelessness and poverty is the only way we are going to substantially affect the systems of injustice that keep people trapped in generational poverty.

So talk about.

Write about it.

Seriously. I’m not being facetious. The world needs people who follow Jesus to step up and dream about what “could be.” If the millions of Christians, in America alone, decided to build staircases out of poverty in underresourced communities instead of only throwing ropes to individuals struggling to stay afloat, there would be massive, long term change.

Heres my problem: while you’re calling the Church to draw up plans, invest in lumber, and start construction, you don’t need to dismiss, downplay, and devalue those of us throwing ropes.

Please, preach about prevention. Care about community development. But there is no reason to insult the folks that I work with who bleed and cry alongside of those who are in need of some measure of hope right now! You don’t need to minimize the value of triage in order to emphasize the value of prevention.

Want to know why it’s important not to denigrate the ones doing triage? It’s because they often become the best advocates for the staircases that need to be constructed.

There is no “us” and “them” in this fight. It is completely unnecessary and counterproductive to pit the value of emergency shelter against the necessity of affordable housing.

I hope and pray that this Relevant article will challenge and inspire folks who are currently on the sidelines to get in the game. I’d just love it if we could all stop behaving as though the position “we” play is the only one that makes a difference.

The Manger on the Lower Level of New York Penn Station

“I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.” Luke 2:10-12 

It’s that time of year: shopping, lights, indoor pine trees, and where I live, cold short days. In the Northeast we get to bundle up, walk just a little quicker, and pray that damn groundhog gets his vision checked and his prescription renewed before looking for his shadow. We are all running from point A to point B with purpose and intention. Well, not all of us. There’s another group of people who seem to be staying right where they are.

I walked off my train in New York Penn Station this morning and found the nearest staircase up to the main floors. At the top of the platform, on the lower level, I rushed into the station and looked around. There were bodies sprawled out on the tile floors in every direction. All of them were bundled in jackets that were either too big or too small, many of them ripped and stained with dirt. All of them looked uncomfortable and while there were at least five of them within twenty feet of each other, each was in his or her own world, completely isolated from the throngs of people who walked past and around them without any indication that they noticed the human being sleeping at their feet.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to curl up on a dirty tile floor to catch some shuteye while thousands of commuters walked around me every time a train arrives or departs. I tried to imagine how I would manage to completely surrender the shame of sleeping in public or the fear of being robbed. I tried to imagine what it would take to bring me to the point of saying, “Screw it, I’ll just sleep right here.”

How many times did that man have to try sleeping on the floor before realizing that he could? How many times did that woman reach out to every available option she could think of before she concluded there were no options left? How many times did that guy rationalize sleeping on the floor by telling himself that surely this time would be the “last time?”

The truth is that no one just spontaneously winds up sleeping on the floor of Penn Station for no apparent reason. Nobody wakes up one day in a warm bed with blankets and pillows and decides, “I think I’m done with this whole stability thing.” There are so many circumstances that have to go horribly wrong, so many traumatic experiences, so many bad relationships, so much abuse, so much pain, so much illness, so much disability.

The reality is that each individual sprawled out on the cold hard floor underneath Madison Square Garden is not just a victim of bad judgment, bad parenting, bad genetics, bad finances, or bad luck; my experience tells me that it is almost always a series of unfortunate, and often uncontrollable events over a long period of time.

The Bible tells us that each person sleeping on that floor is “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14). That each person reflects the image of a holy God who intentionally crafted them, body, mind, and soul. See, I believe that when God looks at those men and women sleeping on the floor of Penn Station he sees both the beauty of their existence and the burden of their experience.

Contrary to popular opinion, I also believe the Christmas story is reflected more accurately in the men and women sleeping on the floor of Penn Station than it is in the Hallmark card with the roaring fire and presents under the tree.

“You will find him wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

The angels who made this announcement were not pointing the shepherds who were “guarding their flocks of sheep” to a hotel lobby or a rented house. They directed the shepherds to a barn where horses, camels, and donkeys rest in between long days of work. The baby in question was lying in a feeding trough, the last place one would expect to find a newborn. He was in “strips of cloth.” Or in other words, ripped fabric that was probably not made with this particular function in mind.

This baby was born into a traumatic and painful world. His mom got pregnant before she got married. His “dad” wasn’t his biological father, and he was born while his family was far from the familiar. Soon after his birth everything went from bad to worse when the local governor decided to kill all the babies born in his general area and with his basic description. So his family fled. They were refugees in Egypt. They probably didn’t speak the right language. Or if they did, it was at least with a thick accent. They were outsiders. They were strangers. They were different. They certainly didn’t belong.

I wonder if we could take a minute to reframe the story of Christmas this year. I wonder if instead of imagining the myth of a serene tearless baby, complete with parental role models, stability, and a college savings account, what if we pictured one of those grown men sleeping on the floor of a train station in NYC, wrapped snugly in strips of cloth with a stained and tattered coat. He is snoring. He is undocumented. He’s a stranger. He speaks English but with a thick accent. He’s all alone. He’s different. He doesn’t belong.

This is the story of Christmas that I know: God, the Creator of all life, matter, and energy, entered into our humanity but instead of entering with political power and financial opulence, came as a rejected and dejected homeless kid. Years after his death and resurrection, one of his friends wrote, “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.”

How do we celebrate the birth of our Savior in a way that honors his sacrifice, or at least reflects his priorities? I think we start by doing what his own didn’t do: we “receive him.”

We can do that by being open to a conversation with someone who is different, foreign, and alone. We can welcome refugees into our homes for a meal and fellowship. We can engage the man who is asking for some change in conversation or by offering to share a meal with him at the restaurant across the street. We can give gifts this year that honor the dignity of the human beings who made them by researching the labor conditions in which they work. We can give generously to organizations that serve and love our homeless neighbors well. We can try to forgive the family member who hurt us but who never did adequately apologize.

This year, we can celebrate the authentic Christmas story by looking for Jesus where he already is. And if you’re wondering where to start, may I suggest the lower level of Penn Station. I saw him there just a few hours ago.