Who's better off?

Yesterday afternoon I sat at the hospital bed of a friend of mine, Dave. He's in the hospital right now because he got really dehydrated and collapsed a few days ago, and someone brought him in. As I sat there and I talked to him, I couldn't help but be impressed by his joy and positive attitude. One thing I've discovered in my friendship with Dave is that he's just a really positive guy. As he laid there in the hospital bed, thin and frail, obviously suffering from malnourishment, he had nothing but positive things to say about everything around him. As his nurse came in, it became clear very quickly to me that he was one of those patients that nurses hope they get. They playfully bantered back and forth, and I could tell that in the few days that he had been there that she had really started to care about him. At one point the physical therapist came by and had Dave walk down the hall and back to check his heartrate. It was obvious that at one point that he had started to get light headed, but he just chuckled and joked a little about it. We walked back to his room and after he was able to catch his breath a little, we talk a little more. When it came time for Jeremiah and I to leave, he immediately embraced us, and without saying a word, placed his hands on our shoulders as we got into a familar position for the three of us, that of prayer. We prayed there together in that hosital room, and for a few moments, we were lifted up out of shade of reality that surrounded us into the true reality of God's presence.

Here's the interesting thing... As far as most people could tell, Dave has very little to be so joyous about. He's sick, in the hospital, he's out of work, and oh, did I mention that he's homeless? Yeah. He lives on the river down near Old Bullhead. He's tried to get work, and periodically has succeeded, but like often happens, the work runs out, and he's back where he started. One of the other things that's working against him is a long time addiction to alcohol. He's battled the bottle for a long time. He's been surprisingly honest about it, and he recognizes the depth that this snake has buried it's fangs into him. He's trying hard to surrender it, but it's a struggle, magnified by the reality of his present situation.

Many of us would immediately judge Dave. We would point to his alcoholism as the reason for his homelessness, and though perhaps that does play a part in it, I have to wonder if I was in a similar situation would I fare any better? Unless we have walked a mile in his tattered shoes, do we have any right to pass judgment? Here is a man who although he battles this powerful addiction, is generous with anything and everything he has. He often makes enough money to buy food not only for himself, but the others around his camp. He shares his faith in Jesus with anyone who will listen, and he often leads Bible studies for others who share his situation. He is welcoming, friendly, and shows love unhesitatingly. He absolutely shames much of the "Christian" population, myself included. I think of the sins that I battle against. Are they any less offensive to God? In some cases, am I any more successful than Dave in my own battle against them? But since I have a house, a car, a job, I am considered of worth to society, and Dave is considered a problem. In some eyes, he is considered to be of sub-human worth. That breaks my heart, and I know it breaks God's heart. This is a human being that Jesus was ripped open, nailed to a cross, and bled and died for. He is of eternal worth! The question I have to ask...is he worth anything to me? And if I cannot say yes to that, than what right at all do I have to call myself a follower of Jesus?

In the last several months, my heart has been deeply affected by the call of Christ to minister to the needs of those around us who have little or nothing. It isn't about proselytizing them. It's about serving them. Meeting the basic needs of something to eat, a clean set of clothes, a set of toiletry items. But it goes beyond just the homeless. There are other people who we marginalize because they're different. Maybe they have a social dysfunction, or a disability, and it's much easier to offer a shallow religious platitude than really stop to engage them in a relationship. You see, that's what I see that Dave wants most. Not my money. My friendship. He wants relationship. He knows better than most how temporary stuff is, and he sees relationships as having a lasting worth. He recognizes that all this physical junk is temporary, and he tries to invest in what is eternal, the best way he can. His hope is that when he gets back on his feet that he will be able to stay connected with the homeless community so that he can continue to minister to them. He has his eyes set on eternity.

I'm interested to see his stack of crowns when we get to heaven. I'm willing to bet it's gonna be way bigger than mine.