Grace Embrace

I've recently had a few rather negative experiences with people on the street. In particular, there is one man who occasionally roams around our metro station asking pedestrians for money.

But he doesn't just ask. This guy is insistent. He stops you. And he gives a long, intricate, and rather dubious story. But we're called to "give to the one who asks". So I did. The first time.

Let’s say I was less than impressed when a few months later I got the same story (my suspicions about its truthfulness now heightened) from the same man who didn't recognize me. And let’s just say he wasn't very excited about being called on it.

Then one of my housemates and another coworker had similarly frustrating encounters with the same questionable story from the same guy. They are both white men in their early twenties. So not only do I feel that I'm being taken for a sucker, I get the lovely feeling that I'm being profiled as such.

So a few weeks ago when he approached me on my way to the metro and seemingly didn't recognize me again, I chose to keep walking. He'd just been rejected by another (surprise) white guy, and didn't seem in a particularly good mood. I wasn't in a particularly good mood either. He asked me to stop, and I told him I was in a hurry and kept walking. He walked right along with me. He said some not so pleasant things which I chose to ignore. As I hopped onto the escalator down into the metro he yelled after me, "how can people move to this neighborhood and not expect there to be poor people?”

As I calmed down I began to realize a few things. I'd been really rude. I'd just told someone who needed help that I was in too much of a hurry to even stop and listen to them. What was I in a hurry to get to? Oh right, that would be church.

I spent the rest of my day feeling decidedly unlike Jesus.

So yesterday when a homeless man near Eastern Market started mumbling at me and some friends I was visiting with, I didn't feel particularly excited about the interaction to come. Especially when the mostly incoherent stream of words began to clearly include some profanity. But then, just as he was about to roll over, he said, "I'm hungry".

Now there's something I can deal with. The Spirit must have been moving, because I somehow found a pretty decent sized sandwich for not that much money with no line and I was at Eastern Market on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of tourist season.

When I brought it to the man he slowly stood up, asked me to "come here" and then gave me one fantastic hug.

And I was reminded that there is opportunity for love and hope, even in really challenging situations. And that God gives me grace, even when I am too busy to notice.

Here's hoping that next time I run into my insistent friend near the metro, I'll remember to show some grace to him as well.