What about all the times we don't give?

The other day I was at this concert at the Square. I'd just been to the Rockshop and had a great talk to a guy about guitars, and got to play on one of my favourite guitars ever. But that's not the story I'm telling today.

Some random reggae band was playing, and they weren't particularly good either. I was just walking around the edges of the crowd near the stalls, wondering if I should stay or go, when I nearly tripped over something lying on the ground. At first I thought it was a bundle of rags. Then with my next glance I thought maybe it was a dummy. Finally I made out just what, or rather who this was. It was a homeless man sitting on the ground with a blanket over his head, perfectly still, despite the noise around him. Propped up near his feet there was a cardboard sign which simply said "$ for food".

Yet the saddest thing in this short episode of my life, maybe two minutes at the most, was not this man's fault. While it is horrible that he's out there living on the streets and has no place to call home, and I'm not in any way trying to downplay that factor, what was even worse was my response to this pitiful sight.

I had money in my pocket and I kept on walking.

In my side pocket, there was at least three dollars in coins which I had left over from Parachute. I was aware of this immensely as I walked away. Yet I kept walking.

Two days later, I'm still not sure what my reasons for this were. Maybe I was to scared to bend down and hand this stranger a coin? Maybe I was to busy to see that this man needed my help and I could easily give it to him? Maybe I just wanted to get back to my little comfort zone with friends? Maybe I had no reason at all. It could be easy to justify this and say "I already give to World Vision, Tear Fund, and my church. It's not like I'm not trying to help out. It's not like I'm a selfish person who never gives away his money." But there is no need to make any sort of empty gestures. The facts are very clear.

I had money in my pocket and I kept on walking.

This man had practically nothing. I will probably always have money. Yeah I'm not rich, but I'll probably never know the kind of poverty he has to deal with every day.

And it's not just about the money. This man had no home. No one to talk to. I can't even imagine that. And yet, in a crowd, people just passed him by. People like me. People including me.

I don't know why, maybe it's guilt, or maybe it's just my conscience, but his image has been burned in my skull. That night, despite all the intense conversations I had over facebook with friends, despite all the pool I'd played, or tv I'd just watched, all I could think of was this homeless man.

I thought to myself that at so many Christian events, churches, and Parachutes, we always hear incredible sermons about how people go into an area of poverty and change things. How people give and give and make a difference. And the bucket comes round and we shove something in. And then we forget about it. But what we never hear is all the times we don't give?

All the times while we have things in our hand. We have time, we have energy, resources. Heck, sometimes it's as simple as a dollar in your pocket. Or a minute from your day. And yet, we choose not to give!

Nobody talks about those times. It's cos we're ashamed to admit it. I found writing this blog super hard. Cause what I did, or rather what I didn't do, it's not something I'm proud of. It's not easy to admit that you aren't a super-Christian, one who does everything right.

If you ever had any of these illusions of me, I hope by now they're shattered.

I think the thing with talking about all the times we don't give, is we can't ask others to do anything. It is way easier to expect others to do things than to actually go out there and do them yourselves. And this is the last thing from a condemnation. If anything, I am convicting myself, pointing the finger at myself. I am not a super-Christian. I call myself a follower of Jesus, yet when I saw "one of the least of those" I walked right on by. There was so many ways I could have shown Christ's love to this man, and yet I chose to ignore all of them. Days later, I still feel like an empty hypocrite. No excuses can hold water, the Bible is very clear about this.

"Then the righteous shall answer him, saying, Lord, when did we see you hungry and fed you? Or thirsty, and gave you water? When did we see you as a stranger, and took you in? Or naked and gave you clothes? Or when did we see you sick or imprisoned and come and visit you?
And the King shall answer and say unto them, Truly I say unto you, as much as you have done it to the least of these my brothers, you have done it unto me." [Matthew 25:37-40]

I knew all this. I have the verses memorized. I have the songs down pat. I know all the right prayers, all the right bands. And yet, I did not show love, or compassion, to a man who needed it. For all I know, it could have been Jesus' face behind that blanket, waiting for me to follow him. And I walked the other way.

I could have taken a few minutes out of my day, and given him something. The money in my pocket. A snippet of conversation. Something. Anything. And then I could have walked away, and maybe we'd have both been the richer. Him by a few dollars, and me by the knowledge that I had just been a part of grace and mercy in action.

And I'd like to think that all this, this time that I did not give, will change me and make me see more. To open my eyes and my hand a little wider. To really be passionate about making a change. Not to make up for what I didn't do, but because it is the right thing.

I'd like to think that if I ever saw this man again, I would not just pass him by.

But when it comes to it, who knows what I will do? Will it be to uncomfortable to give? To secret? To shameful? To hard? To much out of my way? To far from my comfort zone?
Or will I be able to follow my Lord, and give?
The fact will still remain.

I had money in my pocket and I kept on walking.

And I know I have been forgiven. God's grace can, and will cover all. But it's not just like lying or cheating or feeling angry. It's something that I had the power, and the means to change. Something that wasn't an inbuilt part of me.

And I kept on walking.
This is not a call for you to do anything. It is just an honest look at myself. And about what happens all the times we do not give.

Jordan