And they answered Him saying . . .

Imitatio Dei, or, "What would Jesus do?" This is a question intended to remind those who would profess Christianity as being their mainstay to always seek direction from the illustrated life of Jesus Christ by visualizing an assumed response that He would likely have to any given situation which may challenge the path of obedient discipleship.

What can we learn from the life of Christ and what He did? Do we, indeed, emulate those things which He demonstrated? Many among us often believe we do.  Then again, perhaps it is nothing more than pride and haughty condescension that leads us to think we do, or even could.   While seeking such aspiring guidance, what is the qualifying criterion for the answers received and subsequent actions which follow? Do we clothe the Master from His nakedness, or quench His parched lips with our conduct?  Do we satisfy His hunger through our obedient acts of righteousness expressed through exploits of sacrificial love and kindness?   We need to place a finger upon the collective pulse of Christianity and assess the validity of the life we allege it contains.  Is the heartbeat of the body of Christ racing from vigorous, challenging exercise driven by the Father’s passion?  Or is it indistinct from being fused and confused with the rhythm of political, cultural, religious, personal, or a myriad of other agendas which tend to gum up the turnpike of spiritual journeys?  I believe the Church today has lost her identity.  This did not happen on the main stage preceded with booming announcements of imminent peril, nor did it happen overnight.  Rather, it was ushered in by the slow moving currents of subtle deceptions and distractions strategically placed within our numbers with the enlisted intent of diverting our energy and attention away from what really matters.   We have been hijacked and kidnapped; our garments ripped from our apathetic body as we lie gagged and enchained before our enemy and the world.  Does that seem harsh? 

There is a cry that is being heard by many today.  It comes from the book of Revelation and delivers the following message:

“After these things I saw another angel coming down from Heaven, having great authority and the earth was illuminated with his glory.  And he cried mightily with a loud voice, saying ‘Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and has become a habitation of demons, a prison for every foul spirit and a cage for every unclean and hated bird.’  And I heard another voice from heaven saying, ‘come out of her, my people, lest you share in her sins, and lest you receive of her plagues.  For her sins have reached to heaven, and God has remembered her iniquities’” (Rev. 18:1-2, 4-5). 

Who is Babylon the Great?   I don’t intend on solving the mystery of her identification here.  However, there is one particular characteristic that convicts me to the core:

-        The world is intoxicated by her wine and adulteries (Rev. 18:3)

We, as the people of God, have prostituted ourselves on many things.  We have a form of Godliness but deny the power thereof.  How do we do this?  I believe the answers are best found by answering another question first: “What do we spend most of our time doing?”  In all honesty I find myself “intoxicated” by the wine, or fruit, of my labor.  The materialism I find myself wrapped up in has the intoxicating effect of a fine wine; the more I have the more I want.  Our culture breeds affluence; if you say you are free from her clutch I would counsel you to have another look.  As far as adultery goes there are more directions to go than I have time to write, or you to read.  One area I often overlook is my insatiable drive to seek counsel from everyone and everything before I first seek the face of God for His.  Here is a question worth pondering:  “Can I, as a Christian, birth and develop an original thought devoid of influential input from Fox News, CNN, Hollywood, the Republican party, Democratic party, or any other public forum or celebrity bonehead?  I have thoroughly submerged myself in the intoxicating wines and adulteries time and time again.  I have let myself be convinced and convicted on the merits of what is right, what is wrong, what things are worthy of my attention and what things aren’t solely based on the sway of reigning popular thought.  Some issues are valid; my response to them, many times, are not! The issue is not about being right or wrong; it’s about servant-hood and whether or not I choose to serve.  The truth of the matter is I am restrained from contemplating the things of God for all of the polluted jargon that has taken residence, by my own invitation and acceptance, within the secret place reserved for communion with God.  I am the temple of God; my mind – the holy of holies.  I have draped it with rancor and furnished it with articles used for harlotry!  What should I do about that?  

Did the “show of support” for Chick-fil-A further the Kingdom of God, or did it throw barrels of fuel on an already burning fire of hatred and division?  I am summoned by the lyrics penned by Casting Crowns in the song entitled “Friend of Sinners”: “Open our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingers . . . Nobody knows what we’re for, only what we’re against when we judge the wounded.  What if we put down our signs, crossed over the lines and loved like [Jesus] did?”

It’s my opinion that activities such as this are no more than self-detonated blows numbed by the “intoxicating wine.”   Jesus once said that the gates of Hades would not prevail against the church.  I wonder if the church can defeat Herself?  I find it hard to believe that Jesus would cast his shadow from a line of protest upon a people group condemning them by way of passive-aggressive demonstration.  I’m more akin to believe that he would dine with them and love them, affording them the opportunity to discover the beauty of who he is through personal, experiential and intimate exchange rather than publicly denounce them while demanding political  policy to strip them of their inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Since Jesus is the foundation of our religious constitution, perhaps it would benefit us to examine His words.  “The most important [life] command is this: ‘The Lord your God is the one and only Lord.  You must love Him with all of your heart, with all of your soul, with all of your mind and with all of your strength.  The second is equally important – love your neighbor as yourself! (Mark 12:30-31, emphasis mine).  It seems to me that the “gospel” according to Jesus is one which encompasses two primary components: 1. There must be an unfettered freedom to love God completely.  This is the single most important ingredient in life’s empirical journey.  If I do not possess this one thing, nothing else matters!  2.  An unfettered determination to love others in the same way, and with the same intensity that I love myself.  This was the model that Jesus illustrated throughout His life.  He loved others and accepted them where they were and as they were in a socially unselfish way without demanding reciprocity, so much so that it infuriated the religious elite.  For us to fall short of this standard which Jesus Himself inaugurated only confirms and reveals our own subjective, self-centered condition which is bent on recognition and self-righteous gain within the cisterns of our own creation which aren’t good for anything more than holding our own refuse.

True spiritual activism can only be found within the borders of “I was hungry and you fed Me.  I was thirsty and you gave me water.  I was naked and you clothed me.”   Standing in lines in support of one person’s statement of faith may, indeed, provide us with the feeling of solidarity amongst ourselves.  But it will never breach the lines of separation extending any offerings of hope, acceptance or unity to those who are in dire need of them.

Spiritual leadership is often unrecognizable in that it often comes clothed as a pauper, not a King; a servant rather than a master.  What would Jesus do?  Perhaps the answer will continue to evade our capture until we learn what it is to give our lives away.  Perhaps it is safeguarded among “the least of these” (Mt. 25:40).

An invitation to engage

It was Saturday morning and we were dividing the morning bounty of donated groceries received from the local supermarkets between the families chosen to receive them.  There were 13 boxes scattered across the pantry floor and 8 people eagerly filling them, taking care each box contained items relative to the number of people within the family served.  Each box looked similar to the one to the left or the right in varietal content if not in volume.  I must admit, sometimes I feel a tinge of embarrassment at the lack of nutritious balance available to disburse.  I often ask myself how I would prepare, in meal form, what we give away.  How would the feast fare around a dinner table with my wife and two daughters?  Would there be enough?  Would it be balanced?  Sometimes it would consist of a bag of flour, some Slim Jims, perhaps a cake, candy and a couple of cans of mixed veggies.  Today we had a good variety of almost- fresh produce.   There’s hardly ever any meat.

There were plenty of things competing for my time this particular morning.  The guest bedroom needed to be finished, the grass cut, boxes and boxes of accumulated stuff (our family time capsule) needed unpacking. Stuff that we dragged two thousand miles across the country because they contained items we just couldn’t live without, although many remained unpacked from the move previous to our most recent which happened nearly 5 years ago.  All together some of our treasure trove has not seen the light of day in over 4 years!   Yet, we drraaaggg on!

Time, however defined, seems to be the one commodity no one seems to have enough of in order to accomplish the things which, more times than not, end up inscribed upon the ever evolving, enigmatic  list known as “tomorrow’s activities.”  There is a problem that seems obvious to me; tomorrow’s activities never become today’s reality.  I was about to receive a hard lesson on “today’s reality.”

 As we approached the porch we saw her as she came through the front door to greet us.  Her frame was fragile; her pace burdened and slow.  The past 30 days had almost taken her 75 year old body out of this world as they invoked simultaneous heart and kidney surgery.  Adorned by the bathrobe that had been her only viable choice from her wardrobe since she returned from the hospital, she led us into her home.  I was amazed that she was walking at all! She began recounting the “Bible –talk” she and a friend had recently enjoyed with each other, stopping a couple of times to catch her breath.

As I sat the box of groceries on the kitchen table her husband came in from the back yard.  I was surprised to have seen him outside as we pulled into the driveway.  Several months ago he was diagnosed with acute esophageal cancer.  Yet, here he was, mulling around the back yard playing with weed eaters and lawn mowers like it was just another Saturday.  He has been under the care of Hospice for as long as I have known him.  To look at him you wouldn’t imagine that his next breath could very well be his last.  It made me terribly cognizant of every breath I had ever wasted or expelled which was seasoned with selfishness, bitterness or resentfulness.  Somehow I felt as if he relished every one given him.

 I must admit that it was uncomfortable to sit in their presence for the short time we did.  There are many reasons for this, most of which are selfish.  However, my life was changed!  How was it changed?  I was exposed for the fraud that I am and was forced to take a long hard look!  It has something to do with tongues of angels and clanging cymbals - I think you know the reference.  My perspective was altered.  I felt like a fat cat enjoying a steak dinner while watching an infomercial on "Feed the Children."  I cannot shake the feeling; I'm not sure I want to!

It is seldom that anyone takes the time to stop in and chat with these two.  We all have our lives to live and check-lists to satisfy.  I have the dreadful sensation that one day I will wake up and realize that my life has passed unfulfilled.  All of my “to do” lists will be long forgotten – except for the one that really matters – that one will haunt me until the day I decide to do what it calls for me to do: to consider the welfare of my brother as being more important than my own.

There are only three things that I can do with time; waste it, spend it or invest it.  It all hinges on what I choose to do with the one moment I have in my possession.  I will never know what any given day might have to reveal, or what hidden blessings lurk behind its veiled face until I choose to open my eyes and extend my hand to mine the opportunities contained within.  Of the many moments hidden I must apprehend each one while they are still embedded within the fertile womb of possibility.  This I must do before the fangs of the great nothing have a chance to inject their life depleting venom into the moment, my moment.

 The greatest question for me is not “what am I going to do?” but rather “what am I doing?”

The Scandal of God-Life

Spirituality.  I cannot speak authoritatively for anyone else, but my own experiences within this ethereal forever-land leave me reeling with the reality that what I know to be accurate and iron-clad oftentimes leaves me with the bitter aftertaste that lingers from eating the ever-so popular and multi-cultural cuisine better known as crow.  It’s when you assert something as a matter of fact and later are forced to eat your words from the platter of pride.  Have you ever been there?  Have you ever been so convinced of something being true that you would have bet the farm over the validity and value of whatever it was that you believed only to later find yourself at the mercy of torrential wind storms responsible for the calculated deconstruction of your own sheltered stronghold?  Over the years I knew a lot of different things covering topics relating to spirituality; God and His interaction within humanity and the rules of engagement for that interaction.  The sad truth for me, and many within what is called “the body,” I fear, is the truth to which I clung turned out to be little more than the regurgitated dogma of men, lacking the semblance to anything truly divine.  

I still struggle to grasp the many facets comprising Gods nature and the beauty that envelopes Him.  As much as I want His nature to reflect my own, that will never happen.  At best I might catch a glimpse of a shimmer of a shadow of who He is, but I dare not take my experience and attempt to build a church around it . . . He cannot be contained!  I dare not attempt the analysis of what was revealed . . . He cannot be equated!  I dare not manipulate the beauty within the fabric which is His tapestry, created in His own image . . . that is idolatry!   Woe is the day I decide to throw the robes of judgment over my brother in any attempt to classify his stature within the beauty of Gods holiness or the congregation of His righteous!  I’ve done this far too many times.  He calls me to stop! 

What do I do then?  I let Him love me and I love Him in return.  That’s really as complicated as it needs to be!  That is true spirituality!  I need to release myself from my imprisoned need to defend and define who God is.  As I love Him He becomes known because He lives in and through me. 

Jesus said one thing that is still revolutionary today.  It cannot be overcome by any military or law of the land.  Kingdoms will bow at the truth these words contain, others will be destroyed.   He uttered:  “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth (Mt. 5:5).” 

Why are these words so perplexing?  Because they go against the grain of everything this world is.  It defies everything religion has to offer; the status, position, education and caste.

I believe it is time to re-evaluate the group with whom I long to be identified. 

Where is the Christ in Christianity?

“God created everything with one purpose and one purpose only, that His creation would reflect the majesty of His nature, the beauty of His holiness, and demonstrate the accessibility to His loveliness.” Does that statement hold any water?  Can we set our sails trusting the winds of those words to navigate us to the shores of divine reality?  Before you answer that question perhaps it would be good to break down the basic tenets of the statement concerning what that “purpose” entails. 

 The nature of God seems to be more subjective than absolute depending on who you ask and where you live; not because it, or He, is wavering conditional to the need for popularity and acceptance, but rather because we are.  I would go further and say that religion, and Christianity in particular as it relates to our discussion, has become one of the largest tools used for the manipulation of the masses through the self- promotion of the few.  I don’t believe that was ever the intent, but somewhere along the path of history it has morphed into what we have today; a broken image of what was once a thriving movement of reconciliation, healing and relational restoration with Creator God.  Sometimes I cannot help but acknowledge the futility in discussing such a subject as our minds cannot comprehend or absorb it intellectually.  The nature of God is spiritually discerned and can only be experienced on that level.  Where we tend to get into trouble is when we begin to speak about things such as this as if we have obtained hidden revelation unavailable to “the least of these” when in fact we hold very little understanding, if any, in comparison. 

The human perception of who God is, fundamentally, is as diverse as the cultures that constitute human civilization and those who lead it.This is true by default.  You might ask why, as I do.  The best answer I have received is that, while it is true that God has created us in His image, the image referenced is not one that is human, for God is not, by nature, human.  If He was He would not have had to become as a man in order to reach us.   Rather, God created within man the responsibility to reflect the nature of who He is from within the many cultures represented by man.  There are many, many facets to His nature and many reflective representations of that nature within the ethos systems humanity contains.  You have heard it said, I’m sure, that God is not American, Chinese, Lebanese or even Jewish.  He just “is.” If we spent as much time truly reflecting just one particular aspect of His nature in loving our neighbor as opposed to judging or hating them, the world in which we all live would be affectedly different. 

When we approach the nature of God from merely the pretense of human understanding we will misunderstand and misrepresent it every time!  I do believe in “ultimate” truth.  I also believe in one God, one Father, so on and so forth as the Apostle’s Creed describes, so please do not stone me as a heretic, yet.  What I do not believe in is many of the methods and ways God’s created images have chosen to represent Him and how those who are officially “qualified” to do so have been elevated and segregated in a Christian caste system.  This, I believe, needs reforming.  God is not, nor will He ever be, a respecter of persons.  This includes personalities of people; He’s no respecter of those either.  I find it hard to believe that the only people who are qualified to teach or lead are those who are the most charismatic or the most educated.  Actually, with even the most casual reading of the New Testament the opposite is painfully apparent.  How did Jesus respond to the question of “who would be the greatest in the Kingdom?”

When Jesus referred to the way the world would identify His disciples, you know, their “love for one another,” who was He referring to as the recipient of that love?  Was it the love shared between the “chosen disciples” as a closed group which would serve as a witness to the world? Or, could it have included the expression of love generated from one of His disciples lavished upon one who was not? Are we not commanded to love our enemies? The nature of God contains many things that a few among us have experienced.  Some aspects to His nature remain untouched or experienced by anyone to be sure. 

Jesus said wide is the path that leads to death and multitudes will walk together there.  But narrow is the path that leads to life and few will ever find it.  Perhaps in our efforts to grasp the nature of God the apropos thing to do would be to begin expressing and demonstrating the most apparent characteristic of His nature: authentic, sacrificial love.  Something tells me the other attributes to His nature will remain hidden until we pass through that gate first.

Relationship: neither here nor there

It was early on Friday evening, opening night, as I set out on the wooded trail which led to the Main Stage located roughly a mile or so from the community campsite that was to be my weekend home. Why anyone would drive for nine hours cramped together with six other people only to spend another 48 hours thereafter with thousands of unfamiliar people in the middle of cattle fields consisting of Pennsylvanian clay and cow manure escapes any sound psychology that I can offer.  Yet, there I was.  The venue was called “Creation Fest”; an annual Christian festival catering to the spiritual appetites of anyone who paid the cost of admission.

I felt the urge to exercise some colorful vocabulary only moments before as I battled setting up my tent and makeshift shower stall.  It seemed to take an eternity and prevented my timely departure for the evening festivities with the rest in my group. Navigating the aftermath of recent torrential downpours and the serpentine trenches they etched into an already rugged landscape didn’t help any.  The only shoes I had were the tattered Birkenstocks on my feet which were now firmly ensconced in the mud and sludge that would later serve as the platform for my bed.  The weekend was off to a great start!  Now, the task of negotiating the worn, rutted trail peppered with cattle mines strategically placed by several hundred head of blue ribbon Bovine loomed before me.  Yeah man!  I was here for an encounter with God!

 Ordinarily my days are like yours, packed with demands and activities commanding every second of every minute of every hour.  There are always schedules to make and keep, chores to accomplish, meals to prepare, counseling sessions to facilitate, arguments to win, some to start, campaigns to monitor . . . blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, the list is endless!   I was here to relax and be re-energized from a life of striving that seems to plague me and everyone else I know.  My question is “do we really relax when we ‘strive’ to do so?” Just wondering.

The afternoon heat gave its yield to the crispness of the evening air as the sun finished another shadow dance with the forest of hardwoods before me. The dusk that followed began contorting ordinary objects into illusory toys meant for my overactive imagination.  Without warning, the silence around me became amplified and piercing.  As the moments pounded by, a dreadful feeling, or what I would call one, overtook me.  With most of the crowds having traversed the trail long before me, I suddenly felt as if I had been set apart and isolated, like the weakest calf in a herd of antelope stalked by a pack of whatever predators the hills around me concealed. To say the least, it was a bit unnerving!  However, as I was soon to discover the “predator” did not have harm in His intention.  The sensation lasted only a moment and was followed by one filled with calm. 

As I listened closely I could hear a symphony of voices off in the distance as things got “underway.”  I visualized a sea of people clapping, shouting and dancing on command as if they were instruments respondent to the rhythmic baton of Yannick Nezet Seguin as he conducted another brilliant performance of London’s Plilharmonic  Orchestra.  I was irritated, wet, muddy, late, but most importantly, missing it!  As I harried my way through the woods something completely unexpected happened.  I was engulfed with a sense that, had I taken one more step, something very valuable and irreplaceable would be forever lost. 

While I searched for the closest and driest place to sit I spotted an old knotted trunk of an oak tree which had to be every bit of 150 years old.  It didn’t afford much comfort but at least the foliage above protected the space below from the deluge that had recently fallen.  Resting here, now, was not the spiritual retreat I had imagined Creation Fest to be, but I nonetheless sat down and rested my back upon the strength that a century and a half had invested in growing.  My mind began to wander as I observed what I could see around me.  With the daylight quickly seceding, my sight was increasingly diminishing.    My breathing, while becoming progressively less laborious, was being refreshed by the soft wind which was rustling the leaves above me.  I could feel my heartbeat starting to slow and my thoughts decelerate for the first time all day.  It was a welcomed, albeit spontaneous, rest.  My life has always been one programmed for the fast lane with never enough time to successfully accomplish my created lists of what must be done!  Sitting in the middle of strange woods out in the middle of nowhere, in the dark for no apparent reason, in a strange state with no flashlight or anything else signaling my presence might seem a little weird.  It was!  It would most certainly shorten the life of anyone who might happen along who suddenly heard a voice, my voice, from behind the tree thunder “well, hello there.”  I prayed hard that didn’t happen; mostly for my own safety!  I never made it to my intended destination that night.  Apparently my schedule was too . . . scheduled. 

In our created retreats to “seek God” we tend to fill our time with regimented activities designed to facilitate, indeed stimulate our experiences and deepen our relationships with Him.  For some reason we seem to be uncomfortable without some sort of program or liturgical blueprint masking and categorizing our interactions with Him and each other.  For example, have you ever experienced awkward silence?  What is it about silence that makes it so uncomfortable?  Could it be our dependence, our “addiction” to fill every moment with stimulation in order to deflect our own vulnerabilities from being discovered or observed?  Take away our notes and outlines containing our thoughts about God and we become as butterflies in a windstorm; no direction and no control.  If it is the wind of God I say “let it blow!”     

God created everything with one purpose and one purpose only, that His creation would reflect the majesty of His nature, the beauty of His holiness, and demonstrate the accessibility to His loveliness.    Mankind is the only creature who strives to accomplish this feat. Ironically, our striving disqualifies us from achieving this very holy endeavor.  What is the main ingredient for this failure?  It is our insistence on reaching our destination.  Sometimes, oftentimes, God wants to sit with us in the field.  We just want to get to where we’re going!

The Pitfalls of Self-Service

Nothing in existence since the creation of man has proven more corrosive than one word.  In fact, this particular word has served as the platform for every war that has ever been fought or will ever be.  It has a hand in every divorce and contributes to the demise of numerous friendships and alliances around the world.  It doesn’t matter the nationality, culture, class or caste; all have fallen victim to the fruit of its subjective vine! It tends to be self-serving and finds nurture within the field of self-interest.  It evolves around “me” and “mine” and is driven by the spirit of self-importance.

When I was a boy around 6 or 7 years of age, my best friend and I would get into knock-down drag-out fights on a regular basis.  We would literally beat the tar out of each other while calling the other every profane name our minds could imagine or mouths dared vocalize.  If I gave them line space here I would be banished from every Christian church for the remainder of my adult life.  If my mother read my words it would forever change the way she views me and my childhood!  However, we were just kids and didn’t know anything about anything.  Not having reached the “age of accountability” we were not held responsible for what we did or said (looking back I wish I had a firm understanding of that concept.  I would have done way more!).  At some point, while the bruises were still healing and the pride subsided one of us would call the other, bury the hatchet, and get on with our friendship.  What caused our mêlées?  In a word - control.

Control is something few among us actually have.  I would take it a step further and say that if a poll was taken and every head counted the grand total of those who truly possessed it would be exactly “zero.” Control is a product that is not allowed for our consumption.  Well, not in the true essence of the word anyway.  Think about it.  At the end of the day take inventory of everything you had control over, the outcome of which was not dependent upon the actions of someone else.  I bet I could guess the items on your list.  The closest relative that we have is self-control and most of us reliably botch that; at least I do.

As I read through Scripture I cannot seem to find any passage that instructs me, or gives me charge to control another person.  Actually, what I find is the instruction to submit one to another and consider others as more important than myself.  This seems to be a foreign concept to me more times than not.  Usually, what comes out of my mouth pertains to what I want or what I think.  Is it possible to have, or be a part of community under such an environment? 

In Galatians chapter 5 the Apostle Paul presents a striking contrast between the works of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit.  The works of the flesh can be ascribed to the ways of this world whereas the fruit of the Spirit should be allocated to those among the congregation of the righteous.  Notice I did not say “self-righteous.”    The ways of this world would include adultery, idolatry, hatred, strife, wrath and malice.  Contrast the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness and self-control. 

Is there a deficiency of fruit within the church today?  Is there one in my heart?  The time has come to set everything aside that hinders or obstructs us to what God calls us to do.  My wife asked me a question the other day, the answer of which was “no.”   I hang my head at that answer because it is senseless and speaks of a careless life.  The question was “have you ever asked God what He would have you do with your life?”   Another way to ask the question is “do you live your life within the parameters of Divine purpose?”  Again, I would have to say “no!”  Why not?  Because I bog myself down with what I think without seeking the counsel of what God thinks.  For me it is much easier to say “God, lead me anywhere, I will follow” and not give the statement another thought.  This is passive and transfers responsibility elsewhere.  A better thing for me to do would be to ask God “where shall I go?  What should I do?”  This approach places the responsibility of hearing squarely upon my shoulders.

Rather than vomiting my demands upon God or those around me, my prayer-life has been revamped that I might become more reflective of His nature.  I am convinced that all authority in my life is devoid without His nature.  I am also finding that if I relinquish “control” to Him my life is ridiculously less stressful.  The truth of the matter is this: whenever I try to don the gloves of control, my fingers find themselves wrapped up in works of manipulation.  This cannot be pleasing to God for manipulation is not of Him.

The Unforgotten

You could expect him every day around the same time.  It didn’t matter whether it was 100 degrees in the shade or 28 with sleet and freezing rain.  Chi-Chi, as he had come to be called in the street, would come through the door to receive his daily provisions.  Other homeless men around him would ridicule his vocabulary as most of it was born of his own construction.  Nobody really knew what he was saying but most nodded in agreement to whatever he uttered dismissing it as nonsense.  One particular day I felt the front door open as my skin was ravaged by the wintery wind which assaulted the desk where I was sitting sending papers scurrying across the floor.  While retrieving the strewn papers and mopping the contents of my freshly brewed cup of hot cocoa from the surface of my desk I heard the familiar greeting:  “kaluto!”  Chi-Chi was easily recognized, not only by his chosen mode of communication but by his signature saunter when he walked.  His left foot was deformed, a souvenir from the Vietnam War.   His left arm, somewhat withered, would be tucked close to his side as he stumbled his way down the sidewalk and up the steps to collect his daily meal consisting of peanut butter and donated bread.  It wasn’t uncommon to hear choice obscenities hurled at him from passing cars or other pedestrians.  You probably know his “type,” the kind you make an extra effort to avoid in order to circumvent any feeling of responsibility.  It seems to be a typical reaction to people of his ilk, as hard as that is to write.  We all have our comfort zones and I will admit his persona was the sort that generally left a person feeling uneasy or uncomfortable.   I quickly replied to his announced arrival with “wintago malsupa,” his howling laughter filled the room.  Our charted exchange was like the hundred before it as he bowed in appreciation for the grub and headed back toward the tundra-like conditions awaiting him outside.  I had just experienced another encounter with one who was a national hero, a purple-heart recipient; an honored vet.  Those last words haunt me: “honored vet.” 

This was the last time I would see Chi-Chi.  The temperature that night dipped into the single digits and tauntingly teased sub-zero conditions.  News spread throughout the community the following morning that someone had fallen victim to the elements under the overpass just off of E. Lee Street.  Chi-Chi was found dead, frozen and alone. 

You never know when you will be given the opportunity to experience the last moment in someone’s life or even when your own moment will arrive.  Sometimes I sicken myself as I drive down the road complaining of the commute to work, the long hours and traffic jams.  “If the idiot in front of me would drive faster I could get home and get on with the evening!”  Why the urgency?  I need to “relax” in front of the tube and watch “my programs” or drown the aggravations of the daily grind in some other form of non-reality.  Why I choose to spend the best years of my life on things that do not exist while I ignore people, (yes, people) who do exist and disregard them as if they didn’t is beyond me.  I need to purge my life and re-evaluate the energy I spend on empty living. To disregard someone is ultimate disrespect.  Actually, it is worse than that.  To disrespect something is still validating its existence.  To disregard something is to treat it as unworthy of regard, or notice, as if it did not exist. How many homeless people do I see on any given day?  How many do I acknowledge?  Want to make someone’s day?  The next time you see someone holding a sign take 5 minutes and talk to the person.  You don’t have to give them any money, just give them some of your time.  This senseless pandemic of the disregarded will be eliminated on the fields of sacrificial servitude but stimulated in the towers of self-indulgent gratification.    Father, open my eyes that I might see; open my heart that I might bleed the same compassion that brought you to me.