My wife and I watched one of my favorite movies the other week. “Brother Sun, Sister Moon” is a movie about Francis of Assisi. While the movie is painted with a wonderful tint of Seventies music and flower-child vibe, it does wonderfully at conveying (in part) the uniquely undying passion of this Italian character that has been celebrated by Catholics and Protestants alike. Francis, having grown up in a well-to-do family, was struck by an illness while off at war. Returning home he had many encounters of God speaking to him. God stirred Francis’ heart to rebuild a broken down church. Francis abandoned all and devoted himself to living with the poor, rebuilding the church and caring for lepers. The draw of Francis to many people’s hearts is the simplicity that he lived life with, as well as the simplicity by which he followed the Gospel. He took the words of Christ quite literally. Francis longed to live with the poor as a beggar, trusting God for everything, and found great joy in that. The Franciscans are those who have followed in Francis’ footstep…and Francis was just following Christ in the context of his culture.

With all this said. What freedoms do we take with the Gospel and the Sermon on the Mount. We live in a largely humanistic culture. What is our reaction to arguments, pride, greed, our idea of what we “need,” or what we see in the media? I think it’s explicitly clear that Jesus’ heart was for the needy, the oppressed, the bottom-of-the-barrel, and the average person in need of a Savior. We often write off certain things saying, “that’s not my ‘Call'” or “that’s not my gifting.” God really has placed an organization in the world for ministering to the poor: the Church. The Church, not just those who are specifically called to that ministry (while that’s awesome and we desperately need those people). As we walk in Sermon on the Mount lifestyle, I believe a natural inclination is to reach out to the poor and needy. I don’t believe it’s the job of some people to help others, and then others have a license to pass right by the poor and ignore them, snub their nose at them, and not even think about their existence while they go on with their day. Does that feel harsh to say that? Well, yeah. I feel it’s harshness too. The question that I pose is, “What is going through your head when a homeless person approaches you?” Not what should go through your head, but what does go through your head?

For about 8 months I had a homeless guy living in my yard, his name was Purple. I think I have a heart for the poor. That was challenged when a friend told me about Purple, and asked if I’d open up my yard to him. I said, “OK,” and After a few weeks Purple came to my door with his long knotted grey hair and beard. Introducing himself, we looked around the yard for where he could pitch his tent. Buried back in the pines we found a spot, and Purple and his dog (Bear) soon became land mates. When Purple first approached me he said that he wouldn’t be staying long because the end of the world was about to happen in a couple of weeks, and he was heading up to the Hopi reservation because that was apparently going to be the only place to escape the meteor that was about to crash into earth. So in view of mass destruction of the planet, I figured I should let him have a place to put his tent. A couple of weeks later the end of the world didn’t come, and he was as shocked as anyone. Rebounding from this craziness, Purple got a job at a nursery in town aiding with watering plants and loading trucks. I told Purple that as long as he had a job he could stay on the land. Soon the job ended, but I let Purple stay on the land until I had to move too. There were some instances that I wish I could have done differently with Purple, but for the most part God taught me A LOT.

  1. Talking about helping the poor and actually doing it are two different things.
  2. Money doesn’t take care of the poor. You can’t minister to deep needs with hard cash. It’s about relationship.
  3. Purple had a lot of interesting views about life. He didn’t hate the way he lived. He was simple and he felt religious conviction about the way he lived. While I didn’t agree with Purple on the matter of aliens, the end of the world, or the size of the tablets that the Ten Commandments where written on, I did begin to look at my life and decided that if I really believe what I say that I believe, then my life needs to show it.

I was in my early twenties when Purple lived with me. Now I’m thirty, and I’m just now getting the lessons I learned. That’s part of this experiment in Abandon. Christianity without following Christ is safe…but it is not Christianity. I can do business as usual, or I can let Jesus transform me…I’m in this for the long haul. Let’s get a little reckless with our abandon.