Hangin' with the Homeless

For the past month my friends and I, who are in a group that we call “ Sunday night community group,” have been meeting down by Ruby McQuain ampitheatre on the Rail Trail to talk with the homeless who live there, as well as give them food and clothes. We started this tradition from the inspiration of the book: Irresistible Revolution, by Shane Claiborne. In his book, Claiborne writes about being an everyday radical in your community. These radicals do not do anything extraordinary, however they live out there faith in Christ by taking care of His people. So two of my friends, Tiffany and Tara, decided that they would start going to the Rail Trail with boxes of “5 for $5” pizzas from Little Ceasars. From there, they invited the rest of the group to come along.

Rewinding a bit, back to September, our community group held a party in which everyone came with any clothes they wanted to give away. We put on as many of the articles of clothing that we could possibly wear and then made a contest out of who could wear the most clothing at once. After the contest, we separated all of the clothes into categories for the Rail Trail, Christian Help, and t-shirts for Uganda. The clothes for the Rail Trail, we hand delivered.
I have known about the homeless on the Rail Trail for the past six years, however, I have not ever desired to talk to them, nor even look in their direction. I saw them as drunks and bums, who could not handle keeping a job and were drain on the society. As horrible as this may sound, their very existence bothered me. When I went running or walking on the Rail Trail, I was afraid of them. In my mind, when I would pass them, I would think, “why don’t those people just get a job?!”
Since the first Sunday I have started hanging out with them, I have come to know them by name. I know their story and, for some of them, I know why they are “stuck” on the Rail Trail. By merely talking with them, I have gained a love for them and can see why Christ also loves them. Most of them have drug and/or alcohol problems, yes, but they are people nonetheless and Christ said that we are to care for the least of these: the poor and the hungry.

However, I cannot lie about my first interaction with them, the first night, I was discretionary about what I had in my pockets and what I wore down there. I was not sure what to expect—would these people steal from me, or would they hurt me? What would they say? What would I say? The truth is that it was rough to start up a conversation because I let my prejudices get in the way. The first night we went, I am not sure if I even talked to them, beyond telling them my name. I just did not know what to say. However, by the second Sunday, I set my prejudices aside so that I can get to know them as I would any other person I had just met. This past Sunday, especially, I got to know one of them better and even found out that he is from Jeruselem and is half Ethiopian. He has lived all over the world and finally settled in Morgantown. So far, I have not yet discovered his reason for being homeless, but I do know that we had an interesting conversation about religion and about Jesus, and that is a start. I also know that these men and women love having us bring by food, clothes, hand-warmers, and sleeping bags; but most of all, I think that they love having the interaction with us the most—I do not know this as fact, but it is possible that we are the only non-homeless people who regard them as people and not the bain of society that we are to blind our eyes, and shield our children from.

It is hard to process, it is messy, and emotionally, I struggle with the overwhelming truth that these are my brothers and they are out in cold right now as I sit in Starbucks. I have access to a warm house and warm clothes and I am still freezing; and yet my friends who are homeless have even less. I do not know what that means to me yet, but I am processing it. Last Sunday I went into the public restrooms and thought, “I don’t know if I want to go back over there—it’s just so real.” It is so real—they are real.