A friend of mine called me a few weeks ago to ask if I could help him find a place to sleep for the night. He has not had a place to live for quite a while and is having a rather difficult time getting healthy, staying sober, and finding work. My wife and I have tried to do some small things to help meet some of his needs since I first met him and became his friend at a Caribou Coffee about a year ago now. He still goes on and on every time we see him about the time we let him take a shower at our place and the shoes we once bought for him. I've also visited him in the hospital, put him in a hotel for a night so he could get out of the cold, and even gave him one of my favorite travel mugs so he could save 50 cents on every cup of coffee he buys at Caribou.
At times, it is easy to think that the things we have done for our friend place us into the ranks of the missional elite, those who are concerned with the poor, the broken, and the hurting who are all around them. It is tempting to believe that my wife and I have arrived at a full understanding of what it really means to take up our crosses and follow Christ by self-sacrificially serving the purposes of God as we serve others. The last few weeks have taught me that I have a lot to learn about following Jesus into a life of love.
Back to the story . . . so my friend calls me a few weeks ago asking if I can help him find a place to stay for the evening because he was afraid he couldn't get into the homeless shelter and the weather was supposed to get cold. I was quite busy when he called as I was running a huge yard sale to raise money for a charity some friends of mine started and had a house literally filled with donations for the sale, so I told him the best I could do for him was to let him sleep in my tent out in our back yard. When he had called with the same kind of request in the past, we either raised some money to put him up in a hotel or tried to find someone to house him, but this week I just did not have the time to do either because my missional quota was being filled by the yard sale (which was great, by the way. We raised nearly $1,200, enough to put 12 students in Haiti through school for a year through my friends' charity).
Fortunately, my friend was able to get into the shelter and did not have to sleep in my tent. He called again a week or two later, worried once more about not having a place to stay. He asked if he might be able to sleep in our tent, along with a woman-friend of his. I told him we would be more than happy to help him out in this way and made all the arrangements. We set up the tent, picked them both up at the train station, let them use our shower/bathroom, and provided the necessities for a good night's sleep (sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, flashlight, etc.)
Then Andrea and I went to bed ourselves, enjoying our queen-sized bed w/ pillow topper and plush pillows (she uses two, I use three). My fans were gently circulating the air for maximum comfort and for white noise to block any disturbances that might be caused from the traffic outside. As comfortable as I was, (and trust me, we know how to do comfort!) I couldn't sleep. I was haunted by this simple thought: I am letting Jesus sleep in my tent while I am comfortable in my nice bed.
Jesus taught his followers in Matthew 25 to consider all the things they did or did not do for the "least of these" as things they did or did not do for him. The message was clear: every time you serve and love the poor, the broken, the marginalized, the sick, the weary, the widow, the stranger, the orphan, etc., you serve and love Jesus. Every time you ignore their needs or fail to love them, you ignore and fail to love Jesus. Or perhaps, the message could be said like this: every time you stay in your own plush bed while making the needy sleep on the cold, hard ground in a small tent, you are really letting Jesus sleep in your tent instead of giving him the best of what you have.
I guess I have made some progress from where I once was and I suppose I can be proud of the fact that I have been able to help my friend in the small ways that I have. After last week, though, I also know that I have a long way to go if I truly am to love the world in the way of Jesus.
Here's the kicker: my friend planned on staying in the tent a couple of nights, until he knew for sure that he could get into the shelter. My wife and I planned on trying to find a way to get him and his woman-friend into our house so they wouldn't be so cold the next night, but I never heard from either of them. Finally, I gave him a call to see if he and his companion needed a place to stay. He said they were going to sleep in a local parking garage instead of our tent because his friend had been a bit uncomfortable with us and the arrangements we provided. I guess I didn't just let Jesus sleep in my tent. I also let him sleep in a parking garage. I hate to think what other things I have done to Jesus in my inability to give up my own needs, comforts, and desires.
May God grants us all the power of his Holy Spirit so that we might truly provide for those in need, even if it costs us a good night's sleep.