I have told the story countless times throughout a decade of serving them. These are the worst of the worst, most hardest of hard-core, the 'sampah masyarakat' that nobody loves except God, whom nobody can save except God. Many times I have wondered why I bother. Just give them the rice, the drinks, the bread and consider it a good deed done to add to my credit balance with the divine "Big Boss" upstairs. Which is what most charitable organizations involved in feeding the poor, homeless and 'street' people do and do very well too, whether it's out of altruism, volunteerism or whatever-ism. But I am not a charitable organization. I am just a Christian who has been taught that food and drinks can only fill empty stomachs and quench bodily thirst but no more. As Jesus puts it, " Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?" (Mat. 6:25)
So besides dishing out all the physical stuff, I throw in the extra item. I dish out stories, mostly the same old story, to anyone and everyone who will listen, not once but time and again. Because I know how easily people forget, how easily human hearts are prone to wander. I was that way once, and indeed am still that way at times. If we can forget a meal which we saw with our own eyes just yesterday, what more a God we have never seen? So when their stomachs are filled at least for the next 4 hours, when they have got nowhere else better to go, or they just want some temporary shelter from the rain or the sun, I park myself next to whoever has an ear to listen to an old aunty tell stories.
That's how it went that Saturday as I sat talking to a foreigner. We had been talking over several Saturdays in fact. If I have learnt anything throughout my years of serving on the streets, it is that behind every face, is a story that I need to hear first. Society is so quick to write off the 'street-folks' as dirty, filthy, diseased, lazy, good-for-nothing bums, simply assuming they are either beggars, drug addicts, gangsters, prostitutes, drunks, homo/transsexuals, ex-convicts or all of the above. Well, so what if they are? Does that make them less human than you and I, who claim to be ever so 'good and decent', blessed as we are with comfortable houses, secured jobs and happy families? Are they any less deserving of love? Actually there are those who are perfectly 'normal' too - lonely old folks, people who hold regular jobs, opportunists who just drop by for a free meal. We require no qualifications and impose no conditions except that everyone be orderly and considerate of others in the place. We don't force them to come for the pre-food distribution programme, nor do we demand they listen to what we say. But when they do, we connect as friends.
That's how it was with this foreigner. He apparently ended up on the streets because of a fall-out with his employers who now held his passport. He needed $3k to 'buy' it back...no, I am not that dumb to fall for the (sob) story. Besides it really doesn't matter. Like I tell him, whatever his past, it's past. He told me he was packed off 8 years to a monastery and grew up there. By the time he got out, both his parents were dead. And now he's stuck in a foreign land, no job, no passport, no hope. So I tell him the greatest hope story of all time; the story of Jesus who lived, died and rose again to give mankind an eternal hope that doesn't depend on feelings or circumstances. I tell him of an Abba Father in heaven who actually really and deeply loves us so much He sent Jesus to pay the price for our sinful souls, so that man can be made right with God and with one another. He is respectful but doubtful. He declares he's always tried to be as good as he can and that should be enough. In short he didn't need anyone to die for him.
So I give him the most basic lesson in Christianity 101 - that all the good anyone can ever do (which of course we should do) can never wipe out, cancel or nullify the bad all of us have done, thought or kept hidden in our hearts. No matter how little, small or seemingly inconsequential that bad may look to us, since we are all judged by a most righteous, perfect and holy God, irrespective of whether or not we believe He exists.
I was talking to this one man seated in front of me. But it seems God was talking to another seated by the side. An old man stooped with tiredness. Eyes yellowed from too much drinking. In fact I had thought he was drunk, so I didn't even pay any attention to him. But half-way through the 2000 year-old story of Calvary's cross, I suddenly knew I was talking to the wrong guy. I turned to the old man. His eyes were wet, and certainly not caused by the alcohol in his bloodstream. By the time I finished the story of Jesus coming back alive after 3 days buried dead in a sealed tomb, he was sniffling and openly crying.
I never fail to be amazed at how God can touch hearts (especially the ones I 'write-off' - God forgive me) just by the power of His Word alone. What does it take to break through a heart of stone? Apparently just the simple story of a God who reached down to us in love, grace and mercy because no man could reach up to Him, blocked as we are by our sin.....the story of One who died hung on a cross to give life to all , enduring punishment for mankind's sin and bearing our shame so we could enjoy true freedom, abundant and eternal life....
"... a tale as old as time, true as it can be, ever just the same, ever a surprise, ever as before, ever just as sure, as the sun will rise, tune as old as song, song as old as rhyme, finding you can change, learning you were wrong...." (to quote Beauty and The Beast)
I didn't have to add anything to God's love story. An old man heard, his heart melted and he responded. All that was left for me to do was to pray with and for him. But that wasn't quite the end. As I was praying, a young man suddenly came up to us. After I finished, he said somewhat sneeringly, "You know, auntie, he's crying because he's just 'mabuk'. You pray very good, but he'll be back at the shop afterwards". I didn't want point out the obvious that means he also frequented the (toddy) shop down the road, so it's really pot calling kettle black. I have learnt from experience there will always be mockers around, ever ready to put down God. So I simply shrugged and said, "It's ok. Whatever uncle is, God already knows. And Jesus still loves him enough to die for him. God will deal with him." Someone put it another way - God doesn't 'trash' us because we are cracked, chipped or broken. On the contrary, He takes the fragments of what is left over in our life and makes us as good as new. Christ doesn't look at what we are; instead He sees what we can become.
Sometimes Christians spend so much time arguing, explaining or defending our faith in a risen Savior. I am guilty of that too. I want so much to pass on the blessing I have received because I experience daily the sweet grace of God in my own life as a reality. I am apt to think it's my 'job' to convince people, but really I can't, and really I don't need to. Only God's love can penetrate and break down hardened hearts. I should learn to be like Paul, who declared, "...my speech and my preaching were not with persuasive words of human wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith should not be in the wisdom of men but in the power of God" (1 Cor 2:4-5). I should just stick to preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ, telling His-tory so He speaks for Himself.
“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh" - Ezekiel 36:26
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