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I
had just sat down in the Philadelphia 30th Street Station and
tucked myself comfortably behind a newspaper to await my train to
Washington, D.C., when, to my dismay, I saw a homeless man walking up to
me. His approach was slow and
deliberate. He stood before me, waiting for me to make eye contact.
When I finally looked up to acknowledge him, I was discomforted by this
man, probably in his mid-forties, with dirt and grease on his hands and
unkempt clothing.
What struck me most about him, though, were his indescribable eyes¾eyes
that seemed to know me, that seemed to penetrate right through me; that
appeared be full of love, compassion and sorrow. Being a rational,
unemotional lawyer, I tried quickly to put those thoughts out of my mind.
I thought I must be imagining things.
We
looked at each other in silence for a moment and then he asked, “Sir,
may I speak with you?”
My
first thought was, “Oh no, here we go again, another bum begging for a
handout.” I had never appreciated the plight of the needy.
They made me uncomfortable and perhaps a bit afraid.
I felt they should stop bothering people, and go out and get a job
like everyone else. I
had apparently never learned (or perhaps I had forgotten) the Scripture
that tells us: “If
anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no
pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children let us not
love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.”
1 John 3:17-18.
I
wasn't inclined to give this man any attention, and I certainly didn’t
want to give him any money. But
he hadn’t asked for money. He
asked only: “May I speak with you?”
What kind of a question was that?
As I pondered him and his question, his incredible eyes gripped me.
Finally, I couldn’t remain seated any longer.
I stood up to face him.
“Will
you feed me?” he asked.
I
wasn’t prepared for that question.
As he continued to speak, his language seemed peculiarly
articulate, and his words became increasingly strange and disquieting.
He spoke like a well-educated and intelligent man, not at all like
what I would have expected based on my image of him.
All
around me, finely dressed men and women hurried off to dinners, shows, and
business meetings. Others,
like myself, looked forward to getting home to their families.
Many milled about in the cathedral-like structure, with its
spacious halls and its magnificent columns rising to meet beautifully
carved and painted ceilings high above.
Others slept. Some chatted with colleagues or friends.
Others sat idly, lost in thought, daydreams or fantasies.
I
wondered why he had so intentionally picked me out of this mass of people.
So, I asked him, “With all these people sitting around
daydreaming, why did you choose me? Why did you pick me from behind a
newspaper?”
“Because,”
he answered, “you look like a gentlemen with whom I should speak.”
Those were his actual words.
This
homeless man actually used better grammar than I normally do.
He sounded like an English teacher and I wondered,
“What’s going on here?”
Even
stranger than his speech was the fact that instead of asking for money, he
said his purpose in approaching me was that he thought he “should
speak” with me. Now, this got my interest.
What could he possibly have to say to me?
In my cynical heart, I was disdainful and critical of this man.
He looked like he was perfectly capable of working for a living,
but had chosen to live the life of a bum instead. I just came right out
and challenged him, saying,
“You’re
obviously a well-educated man. You
speak better than I do. Why
aren’t you working instead of being on the street?”
“I’m
glad you asked that,” he replied. “I hoped that you would permit me to
share something with you. I’m
a pharmacist by training. For
twenty years I was employed as the pharmacist at a hospital right here in
town. Life was good.
I had a wife and two children.
I had a nice house. I
thought I had it all. Yes,
life was good ¾
until the day I received a phone call at the pharmacy telling me that my
house had burned down and my wife and children had perished in the
flames.”
Perhaps
his story would have made me suspicious since it had obvious potential as
a good come-on for a beggar to use. But
truth was in his teary eyes. Even
the genuine sadness in the matter-of-fact way he told his story made it
impossible for me to doubt its truth. He went on to explain his situation.
“After
losing my family, I could no longer think clearly. I couldn’t
concentrate well enough to make a prescription. But even if I could, I no
longer had any desire for my job since I had lost my whole reason for
living. Everything I
lived for was gone. I’ve
been on the streets ever since, talking to men like you who need to know.
I share with them, and eat with them, but I never ask for money.
It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten, and I’m very hungry,
will you feed me?”
Looking
back on the scene now, I’m embarrassed to say that by this point in the
conversation I was still clueless about what was happening here.
My insensitive and foolish response was to offer a couple dollars
so he could buy something. He
looked at me with kind eyes and gently declined my offer of money.
Once
again, he asked: “Will you
please feed me?”
Did
he mean this literally and, if so, what did he expect me to do?
I asked if I could buy him a burger and fries at the McDonald’s
located in the station. But
this was not what he had in mind. Instead, he asked me to join him for
lunch at the small atrium-like cafe located in what might be described as
a chapel hall just off the main cathedral of the station.
At
this point, I didn’t know what to say.
What could I say to this
increasingly mysterious man who had picked me out a crowd and then
confidently directed me to the specific café where he expected me to join
him for lunch?
I
had a train to catch but, as I considered the homeless man, my heart was
strangely moved. What began
as a passing thought that perhaps I might as well sit down with this man
for a few minutes became a compelling desire to do just that.
The train could wait. There
would be another one later. Talking with this man had become the single
most important thing I could do at that moment ¾
even though I
didn’t understand why.
We
went over to the cafe and ordered a good meal.
We sat together and talked for quite a while. Our conversation
touched on issues that I wouldn’t normally discuss with an acquaintance
of many years. He asked me
questions about myself and what I was doing with my life.
Perhaps my guilty conscience made me imagine things, but it seemed
that he knew things about me that I didn’t want him to know.
I felt like he could see the immorality that was ruling my life,
and that I was well on the way to destroying my marriage and family.
Without actually saying so, he seemed to know that I was living for
my own self-gratification, driven by the desire for prestige, power, and
enough money to gain financial independence.
My life style could be described by the motto: “I
want it all, and I want it now!”
One of my friends even printed that saying on a large button and
fastened it to the lampshade in my law office.
Finishing
our meal, I rose to leave. He
turned to me then and asked: “Will you make me a promise?”
I must have given him a surprised and bewildered look.
He held my eyes with his as he said, “Think about this. The next
time you see someone who is poor, needy or homeless, remember me!
I once had everything you have now.
I had a wife, two children, a good job and a home.
I lost them all in an instant.
The difference between you and me is so small.
You could lose everything as quickly as I lost it.
Remember me. And
remember that all you have is by the grace of God.”
When
he spoke of the grace of God I thought of how often I had heard preachers,
parents and teachers speak similar words.
They had always seemed so trite.
Coming from this man, however, I was awestruck by the simplicity
and truth of this statement. In
that moment, I experienced an odd sensation. I felt that his words had hit
hard right where I needed to be hit.
Even as I stood there, I found myself thinking that this man got to
me like no preacher or teacher ever managed to do.
I
had often quoted the scripture saying “It is by grace you are saved,
through faith … it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one
can boast. (Eph. 2:8-9). But
I had forgotten the very next verse which states that we are created by
God to do good works (vs.10). Then
there is the Scripture in the New Testament book that says:
“Suppose a brother or
sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him,
‘Go, I wish you well, keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about
his physical needs, what good is it?
In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by
action, is dead” (James 2:15-16).
I can tell you that as I stood before the homeless man my eyes were
opened to the fact that my own faith was bogus.
It wasn’t real. It
was mere words. It wasn’t
backed up with action. My
faith was dead.
The
homeless man
wasn’t even done with me yet. Looking steadily into my eyes, he asked:
“The next time you see a homeless person or a someone in need, will you
feed them, will you care for them, will you clothe them, will you meet
their need? Don’t give them
money. That isn’t what they need.
They need you.
Will you give them of yourself?
Will you love them?” This
final question stunned me.
An
uncomfortably long moment passed while I thought about it.
Quietly, almost reverentially, I replied, “I will.” His eyes
gleamed as he smiled and wished me well.
As I boarded the next train for Washington, the impact of what had
happened to me in Philadelphia and how it was going to fundamentally
change my life had not yet dawned on me.
This
homeless man had ministered to me in a powerful and moving way.
A day has rarely gone by since then that I have not remembered him
with his incredible, loving eyes, peering into me.
I often wonder about him and whether he could have led me to such a
change without this being a divine appointment.
As a new love and compassion seemed to well up inside of me from
depths previously unknown, I realized that when I said “yes” to the
homeless man, I had said yes to God.
As
the days and weeks passed after that, I found myself practically walking
on air with a deep sense of peace and joy.
I began talking to people and taking an interest in people that I
previously would have crossed the street to avoid.
While traveling in other cities since then, I have found myself
asking homeless men to join me for dinner, buying bus and train tickets
for men who claim they need to get home, and spending time listening to
them and talking with them. That might seem like odd behavior for even a
man much more spiritual than I. It
was certainly extraordinary behavior for me.
Having
no rational, reasonable explanation for my transformation, I concluded
that I had experienced a spiritual encounter of a most dramatic kind.
In my search for the source of this new experience, I bought a copy
of an easy to read version of the Bible¾The
New International Version ("NIV").
One of the first passages to catch my attention was in the first
book of the New Testament, at Matthew, chapter 25, which describes a scene
when people will be brought before the "heavenly throne."
Two large groups of people are standing before the King.
One group He blesses and the other He rejects.
To
those He blesses He says: "For I was hungry and you gave me something
to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger
and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and
you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."
To the surprise of the good people who say that they don't know
when they did any of these things for the King, He will respond:
"Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you
did for me." And for a
final irony, he turns to all those people standing at his other side and
tells them they are cursed and must depart his company because they didn't
care for Him when He was in need.
The
startled outcry of these people is that they attended religious services
and were good and decent folks, and surely there must be some sort of
mistake because they never saw the King hungry or thirsty, or a stranger
or needing clothes, or otherwise needing help. But the King responds,
"whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not
do for me."
As
I think about all the homeless and needy people I have ignored and passed
by, while secure in my belief that I was acceptable to God because I put
my faith in Him and attempted to live a good life, my heart aches with the
knowledge that by ignoring these people who needed me, I have ignored and
rejected God.
Much
of organized religion today makes a great show of pomp and ceremony but
seems to be lost in empty words¾lacking
any godly purpose or mission. In the Old Testament book of Isaiah, God
tells the people “Stop bringing
meaningless offerings. Your
incense is detestable to me. . . When you spread out your hands in prayer,
I will hide my eyes from you; even if you offer many prayers I will not
listen.” (Is. 1:13). This is rather dramatic.
In fact, it’s how I felt in my own life. Just as he wasn’t
listening to their prayers, He wasn’t responding to my prayers either.
Why?
God
rejected their empty worship, and told them the kind of religion he wants
to see. He says: “Defend
the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow (Is. 1: 17).
So what is the Religion that God accepts? “Religion
that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after
orphans and widows in their distress….” James 1:27.
The
Bible states that we are to live by the Spirit of God and bear the fruit
of the Spirit, including "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness,
goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control"
(Galatians 5:22-23). If we take this seriously and ask ourselves
whether we are genuinely experiencing and bearing these "fruit,"
I believe we will see that each of us needs to accept the homeless man's
challenge, to make the decision from the depths of our being, to say yes
to those in need, and to give consistently of ourselves (a listening ear,
a helpful hand, and a compassionate heart).
This
includes sharing ourselves and God’s compassionate love with not only
those who have physical needs but also with those who have spiritual and
emotional needs -- not only those who are strangers to us, but those who
are our colleagues at work, family members, club members, and neighbors.
This
radical personal transformation of bearing fruit¾giving
of ourselves (not just our
money and our words), is the natural result of answering the call of the
homeless man¾answering
the call of God.
When
I said yes, my life dramatically changed. An empty chasing of
success has been replaced with a life of significance. I still
earn my living as a construction lawyer, but where I find true peace,
contentment and joy is through the experience of God's love - especially
when I share that love with others in meaningful ways. How about
you? Have you heard the call? How are you answering? Are
you saying yes?
J.
Kent Holland, Jr.
6505 Chesterfield Ave.
McLean, VA 22101
703-623-1932
Kent@KentHolland.com
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NEW BOOK -- If you would like
to learn more about how this experience changed Kent's life and what he
has to share about the spiritual journey to a life of success and
significance, check out his new book, The
Winning Way.
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