I’m seeing something recently that is new to my vision, and that is the homeless.
Yes, of course I mean the homeless we see on the streets and hills. Seattle, like many other cities, has a growing, visible issue with our homeless population. Unlike other issues that we can corral behind fences and locked doors, the issue of the homeless confronts us because there is no law that is broken if you have no home. You might break a law if you attempt to build a camp site or take over a doorway to sleep, but Seattle in its majesty permits the rich and the poor to be homeless—as long as that homelessness doesn’t turn into inventive residency.
But crass and heartless as this sounds, I’m not talking about this very real lack of safe, warm housing for the people without homes. I’m not talking about the uncertainty of a physical site that is not lock-able or guard-able if you attend to your needs in the city. These are indeed issues, and the homeless here in Seattle have lives that are filled with stress and loneliness and uncertainty.
What made me think of it was a few recent incidents caught on film, and a few incidents in real life. I’ve been watching some people essentially functioning in a shut-down condition, almost shuffling through life, because there is no “home” for them. No certainty of safety, of warmth, of love, of a place to be where they are wanted.
These are men and women with jobs or families or schoolwork or congregations—and yet they do not feel at home, anywhere. Around them are people who have attached to something, who have paired up, who have achieved a level of intimacy that humans are designed for (and not just in sexual relationships).
And they do not have these things. They expect that they will simply be shunted aside or left behind, and if they are called into a position where they are confronted by their situation, their reaction is either one of fear and shame, or of indifference and exhaustion.
I watched this happen, several times.
The first few times were in person, and I wasn’t ready for it. It took me some time to process what I was watching, figure out what was happening, understand why these people were not getting what they needed. But to “get it,” down in my core, it took watching a video of someone who was called in for a discussion, and seeing how their entire body language was one of fear and resignation. They entered the conversation with apologetic speech, beginning even before anything was going on, speech full of shame and excuses and emptiness. They were ready for yet another round of emptying and finding their camp abandoned. They were ready to be emotionally homeless again.
Now, what’s interesting is that in most of these cases that I watched nothing happened. No one really paid attention. I know I didn’t. We are all just used to this. “Some people just like to be left alone.”
Maybe.
Maybe some people just don’t know how to ask for help. I dunno.
Anyone, in one circumstance the play was broken because one of the actors changed the script. Rather than listen and then berate, a person took the time to listen, to commiserate, to empathize—and then to give what they knew how to give to bring some sense of home-iness to the person. “You are safe here. You are loved. You are worth this time because you are worth it.”
The change in the other person was astonishing. First it was shame and tears, as if it is too much to be seen as having needs. Then it was disbelief and rejection, as if a homeless person could not be given a home.
And then it was joy and tears, and something so beautiful that it was like watching a sunrise. There was an unfolding of trust and love and of reaching out. There was a displayed sense of finding a home.
It was a pure thing.
Why bring this up? Why use homelessness as a prop for a philosophical or moral point? Why cheapen the actual homeless?
Because I do want to make a point, not just about the desperate homeless around us, those who need a physical home where they are safe. There are things we can do to help them, and we can talk about that later—and I would hope have opportunities and resources to make changes.
But I bring this up is because we all encounter the homeless-in-spirit around us every day. I encounter such people, and I’ve been asleep or unobservant. Now that I’ve seen what a simple act of love and attention, of mercy and forgiveness, of grace and and joy can do, I want my eyes to be more open, my feet to be more swift to move, and hands be more quick to act.
I might not be able to fix the homelessness problem in Seattle, but I can help with those who are bereft of a home.