Under the Bridge Downtown

Last Saturday Little Man and I went downtown to feed the ducks while Big Brother was at a birthday party and Daddy had company. We bought a loaf of bread for a dollar at the grocery outlet and drove to a part of the park we hadn’t been to before to see if we could find any willing diners. Boy, did we hit the jackpot! There must have been 80 or 90 ducks in that little area.

In no time the bread was gone and we found ourselves walking. And that’s when we saw him – the man I haven’t been able to get off my mind since.

When we first passed him, we were on the other side of the water from where he was sitting just watching the world go by. He might have looked a little down on his luck, but I just thought he was another tired guy taking a rest in the park. When we crossed over the river and came back on the other side, though, we saw the real story. That bridge he had been sitting under was his home.

Though the man himself was gone by the time we reached his spot, the evidence of a life worlds apart from our own remained. A pair of shoes, an old pair of thin pants, a garbage bag, a trash can… It wasn’t much to look at, but it was more than enough to open my eyes.

How many times have I driven over that bridge not knowing that he was there? How many times have people passed him while walking in the park without giving him a second glance? How often did he have to watch people like us feed a loaf of bread to a bunch of ducks while his own stomach went empty?

I thought about him all the rest of that day, and at some point a verse came to mind that has marked me deeply: “Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.” All at once that guy I just felt sorry for became someone different in my mind – he became a picture of my Jesus. And it’s a picture I can’t get out of my head.

My Jesus slept on a slab of concrete last night with a trash bag for a pillow.

Tonight my Jesus will be lulled to sleep by the sound of cars passing over his head.

Tomorrow my Jesus will wake to a foggy, chilly morning with nothing for warmth but a ragged, thin pair of cotton pants.

This week my Jesus will watch a bunch of ducks eat more than he might be offered in days.

Everyday my Jesus has to put up with stares of contempt from people who are inconvenienced and even repulsed by his presence in their otherwise tidy little worlds.

My Jesus is loved by his Father and deserves some help.

I know some might be thinking, “Yeah, and your ‘Jesus’ probably has a raging drinking problem or has done something to deserve being exactly where he is.” And maybe they’re right on some level, but what if they’re not? With the way the economy is going these days, can any of us guarantee that we aren’t going to fall on hard times at any minute? And even if they are right and he has made some big mistakes, isn’t that what makes him “the least of these”?

I’ve spoken with the outreach coordinator at our church, and we’re working on finding out what we might be able to do for this man. I wonder, though, how many others there are – even in our small town – who will have to go without food or shelter tonight. I bet it’s a lot more people than I would ever imagine. I’m thankful that Jesus sees every single one of them and knows their greatest needs by heart. I pray that He will help us see how to be a part of His solution in their lives.

If you want to listen to a great song that has made me do a lot of thinking lately, click here and watch a video someone put together for Brandon Heath’s “Give Me Your Eyes”.

I’m thankful today for this messy, chaotic old house that, despite all the frustration I feel because of it at times, I get to call “ours” for the time being. I really do have a lot to be thankful for!