An Essay of Revelation
I am
Have you ever battled with feeling disconnected? As if somehow, you are not actually living your own life? A separation, if you will, of that which is reality and your perception of reality. I was recently given an occasion to reflect on who I am. But instead of reflecting on who I am, my perception of who I think I am kept interfering.
So who do I think I am? I believe I am a good man. I try to do what is right, honor God, respect others. I try to exercise compassion, empathy, charity, prudence and honesty. It is my desire to love the things I should, and avoid, and even disdain, the things I know are unhealthy (at least from a spiritual perspective). Sounds nice, doesn’t it? I suppose many people could be depicted in this manner. But again, this is who I think I am. Sadly, my definition of me and the essence of me are not always aligned. And too often the reality of me does not match my perception. This is when I feel disconnected. I think I am upright, but I am unkind. I think I am charitable, but I am selfish. I believe in compassion and empathy, but act in vanity and pride. I make all kinds of excuses for myself and I’m lightning quick to judge others.
He is
Alan is homeless. His clothes are tattered, ripped and ill-fitting. He rides a bicycle around town which is composed of various parts of other bikes; welded, bolted, and even duct-taped together. The tone of his skin gives an illusion of being tan, however, he is just filthy. I have seen him smile, his rotting teeth big in his mouth. I have seen him stumble in a drunken stupor barely able to hold himself upright. I have stood next to him in discussion having to turn my body askew or downwind because of the imposing malodor of him and/or his clothes.
For years, I have given him some money or bought him food nearly every time I see him. I pray for him regularly and let him know that. He is appreciative of my prayers and small handouts and is always polite and thankful. However, recently something happened in our relationship that was transformative. I have always been sympathetic of Alan and his circumstances. I truly feel sorry for him. But before today, if you were to ask me about him, I would portray him per my description above. Do you see the problem here? This is my perception of Alan and it is disconnected from who he really is.
We Are
As autumn embraced northern New Jersey and the temperature starts to change, there is quite a chill in the air. Alan wears his winter coat and hat; his hood pulled up. His coat appears charcoal colored, but as I come nearer I see that is not the case. Its just grimy tan. We exchange hello’s and I hand him money. We talk about the weather, literally, since that is a topic that is critical to him, having no choice but to spend most of his life outdoors. I ask him how he is and he says he doing okay. He doesn’t have to elaborate, I know his circumstance, but he chooses to do so anyway. As he is talking, I try quickly to scan my mind and drift a bit in reflecting on what he might possibly encounter today. Abruptly I determine that I can hardly come to imagine what he will experience. I have to refocus because he asks me how I am doing. Funny how we react in these situations. I could have replied in any number of ways – I am blessed, I’m doing well, God is good. Instead, I simply repeat his words…“I am okay.” My response was dispassionate and delivered with a neutral expression. I suppose my reaction was not to answer in a manner that was demeaning or belittling to Alan.
God Reveals
We conclude our conversation and as I begin to walk to work, I am thinking about where the hand sanitizer is in my office. A feeling of guilt and embarrassment flood over me for that thought. After a few steps, Alan calls back to me, “Hey.” I stop and turnaround figuring he may have another request. “If you need anything, I am here for you.” The words hang heavy in the chilly air. All I could manage was a meek response of thanks. I spin and continue on my way, eyes down staring at the ground right in front of my feet.
What did he mean? Why did he say that? I began to reflect on the “higher” meaning of this encounter. Immediately a sense of unworthiness floods over me. My eyes well with tears. Alan, who has nothing, in the most literal sense, offered me help. But in reality, Alan offered himself to me. I compare myself to Alan. I have everything. Naturally this is a relative statement. But I assure you that I have all that need and more – my health, a wonderful home, financial security, my faith, a beautiful family, a successful business. Alan has nothing. He relies on handouts to live every day, if you can call that living. Instantly, his gesture moves me deeply, like a warm feeling in my heart. He perceived that things were just okay with me and offered to aid my situation. A selfless act of one man to another. He didn’t think of who I was or who he was. There was no comparison made or cost benefit analysis. He simply saw a need and reacted. Alan didn’t think about my finances, my clothes, my standing in the community or reputation in business. He saw a fellow man who might need the friendship of a brother.
You see, we are not what we have. I am not defined by my material possessions – my finances, the car that I drive, or for that matter anything other than how God sees me. Alan, the homeless man who has nothing, knew that. He saw me for what I truly am: a fellow man, a brother and a child of God – just like him! He didn’t define me as anything else. Today, Jesus spoke to me through the words of a brother. I am a beloved son of God the Father – nothing more, but that is more than enough. Allan showed me who I truly am and how I ought to see myself. He let me know who I think I am has no worth in his or God’s eyes. Whatever I have even given to Alan over the past years, could never match in value to what he gave me today. A lesson of love and humility. An understanding of the only thing that God values in our lives – our divine existence. Now somehow, I am forever indebted to the man who has nothing, since he has given me a priceless gift.