“The Least and the Lost” by Rev. Cody Sandahl – January 15, 2017
Introduction
This week I want to look at something that is very relevant to our church – how should we interact with the least and the lost? When someone in our community is in need, what should we do as a church and what should we do as individuals? When someone who has had a hard life comes to our door, what should we do?
This is relevant now ESPECIALLY because of what we’ve seen since we started the free community dinner. We have been very intentional about making the community dinner focused. It’s designed for the hungry and the lonely in our community – not just for people with no home and no money, it might be someone who barely has a home or they’re in school or they’re barely making ends meet. And it’s designed to communicate value – real plates for real people, not disposable plates for disposable people. And finally it’s designed to be personal – someone is at the table to talk with you.
Notice what I DIDN’T say – evangelism isn’t a part of this free meal. In fact, when Lynda talked with other churches who do this they shared that trying to evangelize will scare everyone off. This meal is about feeding people, helping them feel valued, and providing conversation and relationships.
But after doing that a few times, after we gained a reputation as a safe place to go, guess what happened? Word started spreading. And we have especially seen an uptick in our weekly interactions with the homeless and those who are barely surviving in our community. The least and the lost are coming to our doors more frequently, because we are seen as a place that is safer and kinder than most.
That’s great! But it brings some challenges. When you see a homeless guy out in front of our church, what crosses your mind? Does that make you glad, because we’re making an impact in our community? Or does it make you worried for your own safety? When you hear that we’re helping more people, does that make you glad, or does it make you worried that we’re enabling people or being taken advantage of? How do we help the least and the lost, while also keeping this a safe and effective place for worship and the ministries we do for you, the congregation? I think these are questions worth considering together.
I wanted to pair something from the Old Testament with our New Testament reading we just heard, so here is what God told the Israelites in Deuteronomy 15.
Deuteronomy 15:7-11
7If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. 8You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. 9Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, “The seventh year, the year of remission, is near,” and therefore view your needy neighbor with hostility and give nothing; your neighbor might cry to the Lord against you, and you would incur guilt.10Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so, for on this account the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in all that you undertake. 11Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, “Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.”
Am I Supposed to Help?
Pop quiz – what was the main point of last week’s sermon? Don’t panic if you can’t remember, no one else remembers either. That’s the pastor’s life for you. By the way, it was an encouragement to “persevere” as you walk down the road you’ve chosen or the road you’re forced to walk down.
Given how quickly sermons fade from memory, I am usually quite enthused to hear when someone puts a sermon into practice. But one time I was a wee bit concerned, actually. It was in my previous church, and a woman told me that a sermon I gave on interacting with the homeless people around us had stuck with her. And she had passed by a homeless man on the road who was walking somewhere. And she said, “I didn’t want to, but your sermon made me pull over and offer him a ride.”
Now part of me was very proud of her to take such a step in her faith. But another part of me was concerned, because it’s probably not a good idea to ALWAYS pull over and offer someone a ride. That could be dangerous. Especially if you’re next to one of those signs that says, “Prison – Do not pick up hitchhikers.” And that got me thinking – how do we exercise both wisdom AND compassion?
I mean, Jesus says in Matthew 5, “Give to those who ask, and don’t turn away from those who want to borrow.” Does that mean that I need to have cash ready for everyone who’s begging at a street corner? If someone comes in from the community and they need three month’s rent to stay in their house, do I need to find a way to pay for that?
In other words, “when am I supposed to help?” Isn’t that really the question at the core of this? “When am I supposed to help?” Do you want to know how to answer that?
Let me tell you how I discovered the answer to that question in my life.
It was many years ago, and I think it was like a Good Friday service or something pretty somber like that. And during a time of silence a guy from the street came into the church, stumbled toward the front. A voice inside told me, “Go to him.” But I stayed in my pew. The man collapsed on the front steps, and stretched his arms out toward the cross, and again the voice said, “Go to him.” But I stayed in my pew. He broke down weeping at the front of the church, and I again felt the direction to go to him. But I stayed in my pew. Finally, someone else got up and went to him, and several people surrounded him with prayer. God found a way to help without me. But I was supposed to help. And I didn’t. That still haunts me.
But that’s when I decided that there’s an easy answer to the question, “should I help?” The answer comes in the form of another question: “has the Holy Spirit told you to help?” At that Good Friday worship service, there were several hundred people. If everyone wanted to help, it would have been impossible. But there were SOME people there who were supposed to help. And luckily some of them listened better than I did.
When I pass by someone begging on the street, I direct the question to God: “should I help?” Sometimes I get a “yes” back, and sometimes I get a “no” back. Now here’s a pro tip: if you always think you get a “no” as your answer, you might not really be hearing from God.
So if you’re wondering if you should help, ask God to tell you. Sometimes he wants you to help this particular person and sometimes he has other people lined up to do it. Ask the Holy Spirit to tell you.
How Should I Help?
So let’s suppose you get a “YES” back from God. You’re supposed to help this person this time. The next question is, “how should I help?”
I mean, Jesus says to give to those who ask, but he doesn’t say you have to give exactly what they’re asking for. Can you give food instead of money? Can you give conversation and a little time? Is there a way to help that you’re comfortable with, even if it’s not exactly what they’re asking for? If you don’t want to give money, can you have power bars in your car? If you don’t want to help one-on-one, can you give to a ministry or an organization that helps?
And here’s the interesting thing, I asked three of the people we see pretty regularly what they would want us to know about helping them. And they had three different answers. One said he wanted to be treated like a person more than anything else. Conversation, respect, kindness, honesty – that’s more valuable than anything else. But another one said that he didn’t want to talk until he knew that he was being taken care of – he’s a little more transactional. And the third was totally different – he said he wanted to know WHY we’re helping – our beliefs, our faith.
So the answer to “how should I help” I think depends on the person. And that, of course, requires getting to know the person a little bit. That doesn’t really apply to a one-time gift on a street corner, but it sure does here at the church.
What About My Safety, or My Family, or My Church?
I think there is one final question to ask. “What about me?”
If it’s getting dark, and you’re coming to a meeting at the church, and you’re the first to arrive, and you see someone pacing by the front door of the church, you might be wondering if it’s safe for you to get out of your car.
Or looking at it from another angle, if you hear that we’re providing food for the hungry and we help someone out who needs gas because they sleep in their car and use it for heat, maybe you’re thinking that you have problems, too. Why are we helping them and not you? Why are we helping them and not your friend in the other pew who can’t pay the rent this month?
Jesus talks about this, too. He says other people will know we are his disciples if we have love for one another. When the early church started, they gave to take care of any needs in their church. The early churches had dedicated people to help take care of those needs, and they called them deacons. And we have the same thing. Our Deacons exist to help the member who can’t pay their rent, or the regular attender who is running out of food, or the person who is sick in the hospital or alone at home. That’s what they do. So when we help someone from the community, we aren’t taking anything away from what we do to help those inside our church.
Now I will admit that safety is a valid concern. You need to feel safe coming into the building. We’re trying to walk a fine line in being welcoming to the community AND a safe place for people of all ages and experiences. We have elementary school kids coming here, we have women who have experienced abuse coming here, we have widows who are coming here alone, we have to take that into account. But I don’t believe Jesus would turn someone away for that reason alone. How can we do both? How can we be a safe place for wounded people AND a welcoming place for people in need? I don’t have a quick answer to that, but that’s what I’m shooting for.
Summary
Sisters and brothers, we heard in our two texts today – in both Old and New Testaments – that God wants us to help the hungry, the thirsty, the lonely, the sick, the prisoners. But God also wants us to help the other people in these pews. We cannot say “no” every time. Part of being Christian is saying “yes” to helping.
If you’re wondering, “am I supposed to help,” ask the Holy Spirit to tell you. But if you get a “no” back every time, you’re probably asking yourself rather than the Holy Spirit. God says “yes” pretty frequently.
If you’re wondering, “how should I help,” try to find something you’re comfortable with AND that meets the other person’s needs. If it’s one of the people we see repeatedly around here, try to get to know them.
Finally, if you’re wondering, “what about me,” or “what about my friend sitting next to me,” remember that we are trying to be a place for safe and effective ministry AND a place that welcomes the hungry and the lonely. We are trying to help you, the friend sitting next to you, AND the person from our community who has nowhere else to go.
We are GOING to see more and more people from our community. And some of them aren’t going to be clean-cut. Some of them aren’t going to be well-groomed. Some of them aren’t even going to have homes. I think that means we’re following in Jesus’ footsteps. But it also brings a few challenges. I hope you are on board. I hope your heart and your mind are willing to engage. Because we can’t do this without you.
