When Love Becomes Jaded…

Dear readers,

 I’m sitting here on my bed in my dorm room listening to my air conditioner whir and I can feel the night growing quiet around me (surprising for a college campus!). I haven’t written in awhile and I’ve been thinking about what to say to you all. As I sat here and contemplated what has been going on in my life over the past few weeks, I began to feel such a peace as I saw God’s hand manifested in my life so undeniably during this time. But before I really start rambling, let me tell you what’s been going on with me and what’s on my heart.

 About two weeks ago, I was given the opportunity to join some of the students attending my university as they went on a bi-weekly outreach for the homeless. It wasn’t an official organization, but simply a few people with a desire to reach out to the impoverished in love. They would drive their personal cars, filled with clothes that had been donated from various areas, and park on the side of the road near the homeless shelter where most of the homeless congregated towards the end of the day.

I was invited to go and, having no other plans, I thought it would be an interesting experience. Before I left my room, I quickly glanced in the mirror to make sure my scarf was fixed in place (Yes, yes, scarves are my down fall!)  and my make-up wasn’t smudged (Oh, come on ladies…I know someone out there is relating to me right now!). As my roommate and I drove away from our beautiful university, we gradually started making our way into the more impoverished areas of the city. Soon we turned onto the street where the homeless shelter was located and I watched as groups of rough looking people gathered in different areas. Some walked alone, meandering aimlessly up and down the street with no particular destination or purpose. Their clothes were filthy and worn and their demeanor intimidating. It was the kind of street that you wouldn’t want to turn down if you were alone—a place where one might feel compelled to lock their doors. As we got out of the car, we met with the two guys who were handing out clothing and soup in Styrofoam cups.

 As I began to help people find clothes and hand out cups of soup, I felt like so unworthy. Here I was with my meal plan at an all-you-can-eat cafeteria handing out cups of chicken noodle soup to people who may not have eaten all day. My accessorized and color-coordinated outfit suddenly seemed so vein as I dug through a trash bag to help a lady find a pair of pants that would keep her warm through cold nights. I felt like such a hypocritical Christian as I began to have conversations with these people and realized they were real—they had lives, families, stories, heart aches, and raw human emotions. How could I have claimed to love my neighbors and helped those in need when I didn’t even know them? I never even left my small world where I enjoyed the comfort of my small group of friends and had personal devotions in the evening.

 In theory, I claimed to love as Jesus, but love in theory cannot thrive when it is, in essence, an action.

 I always believed that I had the love of God and, as the popular belief of Christians goes, “if I’m saved by Jesus Christ, my love will automatically permeate from me and spread cheer to everyone in my path!” Never mind that I just gave a dirty look to that lady on the highway! She was going to slow and she can stare at the back of my gospel fish-embossed car for all I care!  That, of course, is  sarcasm, but it’s simply to get my point across. We’re so quick to judge others and make up excuses for why we can’t reach out to others. I mean, be honest with yourself, how many times have you rolled up your windows and locked your doors when a homeless person approached your car holding up a cardboard sign? After all, they could be dangerous, right? Or better yet, they’re probably just saving up until they can get their next bottle of booze. God forbid we roll the window down, give them a few bucks, and say something as trivial as “God bless you” when that may be what they need to hear. I mean why give them money that could potentially be spent on booze when you could hand them a tract!

 You may have noticed that by writing this I risk offending many people and being shunned by studying theologians. Truth be told, I’m deeply troubled by how “holy” Christians have become. When did we transcend so highly above sinners to the point where we are no longer able to stoop down and pick them up.

 Jesus was never so unapproachable. Indeed, Romans 5:8 says, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

 I want to love like Jesus. Even if it starts with rolling down my car window instead of plastering bumper stickers on my car with cheesy Christian puns or giving my waitress a good tip instead of whispering amongst friends about the cultic charm hanging from her necklace.

 This is my proposal of love: To break down the walls of the church that have driven away the hurting and the lost. To live out Christ-centered life by displaying an unconditional act of love to everyone I encounter—give to the poor, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the hurting and oppressed, and befriend the lonely.

 On a more personal note, this is a scripture that I’m particularly passionate about—a constant reminder that I live by as I continue in my calling for Social Work with children. I would like to share it with you:

 “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” –James 1:27

 -ShellyBug

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