James Slack,
Government,
University of Alabama at Birmingham
[Feb 13, 2011] —

A torrential downpour met the morning as I drove to an inner city storefront church that ministers primarily to the homeless and near-homeless here in Birmingham.

Freezing rain would soon become hail and, by nightfall, snow. This made for a tough situation – the same weather that made the homeless more desperate kept some volunteers from showing up.

Because of an always limited supply of food and clothing, and because we want to build community, compassion for the individual need is seasoned with “tough love” rules to ensure equal access. Everyone can be incredibly selfish and, if not regulated, some homeless individuals will take more than what they actually need and a few will even sell or exchange those items for sex, alcohol or illegal drugs.

Everyone Wanted More

On this day it seemed like everyone wanted more than his share, thus reducing our ability to give others what they really needed just to survive the night on concrete underneath a city bridge. I grew annoyed and impatient — some were calling me ugly names for questioning whether they had already received supplies

A truck pulled up with fresh bread, and I saw several men helping themselves while just one volunteer frantically tried to get the load off the street and into our kitchen. I quickly found myself standing in the freezing rain, trying to take a loaf of bread from a homeless man.

I pulled, and he yanked. I shouted “Let go!” He claimed, “This is my loaf!”

Others watched. The tug of war lasted only 10 seconds, but the damage was complete. The look on that man’s frozen face told me he had just learned something about Christian hypocrisy that would remain with him for a long time.

Would He?

Chilling expressions on other homeless men came from my own action, not just the weather. My God, I thought, what am I doing? Would Jesus take a loaf of bread out of the hands of a rain-soaked homeless man? Would He take it out of my own hands?

I released my grip on that loaf and apologized. I ran into the sanctuary that offers temporary repose to homeless people sleeping in the seats and on the altar. The odor of dirty wet clothing and unclean bodies was potent as I laid prostrate on that same altar and asked for God’s forgiveness. I prayed never again to forget the intimacy of imago Dei standing in the freezing rain claiming nothing but bread.

When it comes down to it, we all stand in that freezing rain. We grasp for bread. As professors, the bread we seek might be better wages or a fairer workplace. The bread our students seek might be better grades or empathy about their future.

The next time a student or colleague cries out, I hope to listen a bit more intently – not just for their temporal need for “bread,” but also for their eternal need for the Bread of Life. Like Paul, I am obligated to share that Bread of Life we call Christ (Rom 1:14). The Bread of Life each one of us needs, standing in the freezing rain.

© 2011 James Slack © istockphoto