The “Soloist” and my fear.

Yesterday my wife and I saw the movie, “The Soloist.” It was her pick not mine, and though I would recommend the movie, I did not enjoy it. “The Soloist” is a true story about a musical prodigy who because of a mental breakdown ends up homeless on the streets of Los Angeles.

The reason I did not enjoy the movie is that it confronted my own fear of homelessness. I’ve have worked hard at concealing that fear, especially from myself. My fear resides in two areas of my inner life...my experience and my faith. Let me explain.

While working as a missionary church planter in the U.S Virgin Islands (Yeh, I know it’s a tough gig, but someone’s gotta do it) Hurricane Hugo hit in September of 1989. After many months of repairing houses and reaching out to those with destroyed homes, I wanted to do something else and asked myself "what would Jesus now do?" My question led me to volunteer at “My Brothers Table” a soup kitchen in Fredricksted, St. Croix, started in the aftermath of the hurricane, but now continuing to minister to the down and out, homeless and aged.

I enjoyed not only serving meals but also eating my lunch with the client. One afternoon we were all enjoying our spaghetti dinner when the open door was darkened by an old man who hesitated joining us. I got up and went to invite him into our fellowship. As I approached him I was jolted by his rank odor. The smell of urine and feces, combined with the gutter smell of the street was pervasive. It was obvious that he was weak and hungry. Trying not to breathe much, I led him to a seat at the table across from mine. I went and got him a plate of food and sat down across from him.

Before he could take a bite of food he began to cough violently, and hurled up a large gray glob of phlegm, which landed in the middle of my spaghetti. Not wanting to offend him, I excused myself from the table, feigning being “full”, took my plate to the trash and went back to the kitchen, feeling sick to my stomach.

I watched him from the kitchen door and prayed “Oh God thank you that I am not like that old man and please don’t let me ever become like him.” Immediately I was reminded (I’m sure by the Holy Spirit) of Luke 18:11. In this passage of scripture a Pharisee stands and prays about himself saying: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector.” [1] With that stark, Holy Spirit induced, accusation of my own prejudice, I repented and asked God to change my heart. With that prayer of repentance also came the realization of my own fear of homelessness. I do not fear the homeless, I am deeply afraid of one day becoming homeless.

That is why I did not enjoy the movie. It dredged up all the fear I have worked so hard to bury. It produced not only fear, but also guilt. Why guilt? I feel guilty because I am a Christian who claims to have faith in God’s provision. Being in ministry I have moved around as needed and have never owned a home, nor been able to put much away for retirement. My mantra has always been, “God will provide.” After all I worship Jehovah God who also has the name of JEHOVAH-JIREH: or “The Lord will provide.” This fear cuts to the very center of my faith in God.

I am not sure at this moment how to confront and conquer this fear. I have faced other problems and challenges by my faith in God. Yet this one I have hidden and it has lingered with me nipping at my heels for years. I am embarrassed by it, but I now am resolved to pro-actively do something about this fear without giving reign to my other fear....becoming non-dependent on God’s provision.

I welcome your helpful suggestions.
P.S. An update on the old man. The social worker that worked with us at "My Brothers Table" reported that he died just a few days later, with several communicable diseases, including Tuberculosis.

[1] The Holy Bible : New International Version. Grand Rapids : Zondervan, 1996, c1984, S. Lk 18:11