Guns, Coffee, and Camus

I woke up at 5:38am to the sound of gun shots. I'm currently in Washington DC for work, and staying at a house in a rougher part of town I suppose. That afternoon I was visiting some friends who live in DC and walking through a great part of town. The houses and stores were all beautiful with all sorts of fascinating things inside them to keep my attention for the afternoon. It felt like I was in college again- inspired, comfortable, conversations full of grand plans, and coffee shops with art, music, books- all with a romantic allure to them. I felt like I belonged.

Afterwards, I hopped on a bus to go home. If I was home at the bookstore, then my bus trip quickly had me thinking "I don't think we are in Kansas anymore." The bookshops and cafes were quickly replaced with abandoned houses and fast food. And I saw that picture, that always leaves me perplexed- a homeless man sleeping on the steps of an abandoned house. This never makes sense to me. It makes me want to scream out "hey man, just go inside- there's no one in there!" But I know its my simplicity that drives me mad. In the economy of God this doesn't happen, and I look forward to that day when the kingdom is fully realized.

Anyway, I went to bed thinking about these things, and I woke up to gun shots outside. I'm not sure what happened, or if anyone was shot or anything. I heard one lone siren, but it was quickly shut off as if to say "Everyone just stay asleep, there's nothing to see out here." It's a great tragedy that if we want to, we can live our lives in the bookstores and cafes without ever realizing the "other reality" of this world. If there is hardship and violence, it becomes entertainment. All of these events in my day caused me to ask, which reality is more real- the coffee or the guns?

And so it hit me again. Neither reality is the final reality. The alternative reality that I'm choosing to embrace is the reality that acknowledges the need for justice now, and recognizes that one day the poor and oppressed will be set free, and there will be no tears, no guns, no homeless, and no abandoned houses. And so we work for this kingdom- knowing that we can't do much of anything to make it fully realized, but also knowing that its a great sin to allow this to cause apathy. This is the Myth of Sisyphus that Camus spoke of- to work for the kingdom knowing we will fail until the day when Christ gives the rock the final push up the mountain.

Encounter

Tonight I had that image of myself as "authority on justice" completely destroyed yet again. I began serving and participating in community meals for the homeless, hungry, rich, poor, black, brown, white, and most anyone who feels like eating something. I sat outside the church building and watched as a man with a rather large Jerry Garcia beard came slowly toward the church with a bag in his hand.

Something about this man possessed salvation. I decided to stand next to him in line. I did not talk to him at first because I'm an awkward person and didn't know how to start the conversation. "So, are you homeless?" just didn't seem like a great way to start the conversation and yet I couldn't come up with anything else to say. I'm a bit of a dunce when it comes to conversing with people.

Finally, I came up with a good enough opening line and tried it out. "Hey" I said, "What is your name?" Brilliant. Turns out his name was Fred, and mine was Dan, and before I knew it we were having a conversation. He was very warm and gracious towards me.

We sat and ate our pasta and talked...and sometimes didn't talk...and then talked again. Fred told me how he was laid off from his job dish washing at the local bar and hasn't been able to find work since. He is staying at some mission shelter run by some good hearted, well intentioned fundamentalists. He told me how he was filing to get unemployment, but that due to his previous employers shady dealings, he was having a difficult time getting his rightful share of the economic pie. I asked him if he was looking for work. He responded so earnestly, "Yeah I'm really trying. I haven't been hired yet, but I'll keep on trying."

I asked him what his dream job would be and he told me "dish washing." Who am I to feel sorry for him dreaming of dish washing? He said he would really like to have a chocolate factory, and this appeased my story driven mind for the moment.

And then it hit me. When I actually encounter these so called people that I am working to serve, I have nothing to say or offer. I know there is no reason Fred shouldn't be employed, except that he looks homeless, and indeed is homeless. All my concentrations on books, theories, theology, service, and poverty has caused me to overlook the very people I was hoping to serve. I had no answers for Fred. In my mind all I could think was that one day he would be a king in heaven and, Lord help me, I'll be his servant.

I pray for that kingdom come, not the one that requires the death of Muslims and Palestinians. Not the kingdom for the Crystal Cathedrals and war profiteers. Not the kingdom of the sword. But the upside down kingdom, where all the people who aren't supposed to be there are living in golden mansions, and all the people who are supposed to be there have to beg those we've forgotten, for grace and mercy.

Thats enough from me.