homeless jesus

Something that has been a frequent topic of conversation, and thought, in my life lately is homelessness. With Christmas right around the corner and Advent already in full swing, it’s almost impossible to not think of baby Jesus, born in a manger. For me, that continues to His life, death, and resurrection. A homeless baby born to be a homeless man that would later die to save my life. It blows my mind, honestly.

In the words of G.W. on Sunday morning, “Jesus was a homeless black man”. In today’s culture, He would be about the equivalent to us. Jesus took on literally the most humbled and despised place in society. He did the unthinkable. GOD, the Creator of the universe and all-powerful, Almighty King, came down as a vulnerable baby, and grew up to be a man hated by his culture. Do you ever wonder why so many homeless people seem to relate to the Christian religion so well? Because Jesus was where they are.

On Monday night, a group of friends and I went down to St. Pete to volunteer with Love the Poor, a ministry that hands out food and hangs out with homeless people in the area every week. I’ve been before a bunch of times in the summer, but not for a few months because I had class every Monday night. This was the first time I had ever gone when it was legitimately cold out. It was a freeze night, meaning it had gotten below a certain temperature to where emergency shelters opened their doors to the homeless population for the night. They had to be out at 5 AM, but at least had a warm bed for the night. However, not everybody was taking part in the freeze night, so there were still a lot of people on the streets.

Because it wasn’t warm out, as before, most people were sleeping when we got to them. Wrapped up in their blankets, or sleeping bags if they were lucky, they lined the street. I don’t really have words to say what that felt like, seeing them so vulnerable and cold out there… human beings, just like me. Human beings without homes, without warmth. There was a woman and her child wrapped in blankets. There was a man without blankets who had wrapped himself in plastic wrap. Jesus was homeless. These people were cold. We handed out blankets, sweat shirts, and food. We talked to those who were awake. We walked the streets, finding the ones without blankets. It was cold, and dark, and these people were sleeping outside.

Every day since, usually at morning and at night, I remember these people. There are over 6,000 homeless people in our county, and yet only 600 beds in shelters for them. Most of our homeless population is homeless children. They attend our schools. They sleep outside in the cold. I am deeply troubled and deeply upset by our lack of concern and action on this issue. As a believer in the homeless Jesus who saved my soul, I can’t walk past their bodies. I can’t pretend I didn’t see all that, didn’t talk to them, didn’t hear their stories. And so I pray, and I think of my Jesus, come to me as a baby, and I trust Him to be the answer to the world.

May we be the hands and feet of the One who loved us.

The One who was born, thousands of years ago, homeless and cold.

And may we remember those who are homeless and cold tonight.

May we be the love to warm the night.