By Kevin Barron
I would like to talk about home. It’s a pretty simple thing, isn’t it?
It may be a room, an apartment, a house with several stories and many doors and windows. It may be made of metal, wood, stone, or more than one of those. And we know it’s not the house that makes it a home, it’s the people in it, those around you, that you live with. Home is important at Christmas. In 1943, Bing Crosby released the song “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” and that song has been playing ever since. In our world today, it seems like we have more broken lives than ever before, we have family members who can’t or won’t get along or talk to each other.
Add to that the last couple of years that the pandemic has made it even harder to go home. Are you ready to go home and share those family times again? I know I am!
I want to talk about another word. That word is homeless.
Maybe with what I wrote at the beginning, you got a warm fuzzy feeling. Maybe you experienced memories of wonderful Christmas times in the past, maybe you started thinking about a few details you have to take care of so you can go home in just a few days. But homeless? That has nothing to do with us, does it?
Doesn’t that apply to people who won’t work, mothers who won’t take care of their children, veterans who couldn’t handle military service?
I have figured something out over the years. It took me a while, but here it is. The important thing is not why or how someone became homeless. We can argue those things all day long. We have a lot of work to do on the causes behind homelessness. I get it. But the problem we have today, right now, in my town and yours, is that people are homeless. When I look up “homeless shelters near me” on Google, the four closest results I get are Cape Girardeau, Carbondale, (Ill.) Bonne Terre and Pevely. Hard to walk to those places!
I know the Women’s Shelter here in Perryville will house abused women and their children, and they do great work. But other than that, I know of no place in Perryville, in all of Perry County, where a homeless person can stay at night and be warm and safe.
I want to ask a difficult question.
What is our problem? In a city with a wonderful history, good resources, excellent city services, strong industries, helpful, caring people, churches and organizations, what is our problem? I am getting more and more unsatisfied with my pathetic answers to this question. I am getting more and more uneasy with the things I say about loving God and caring for others when I see and hear about the human suffering among us.
Maybe you need to be in that place as well. Here’s another way of asking that difficult question. Last February, when we had that bitter cold and about a foot of snow, did you think about the homeless? Did you find someone who had nowhere to go, nowhere to get warm, and make sure they had somewhere to go to survive? Or did you do like I did when I ignored everything and everyone else to focus on my own problems and needs? I can be a better person than that. I must be a better person than that. Maybe that is so for you as well.
In Matthew 25, Jesus is wrapping up his ministry on earth. The clock is ticking.
He no doubt has a lot on his mind. What does he stress at the end of this chapter? What stirring words does he want to leave with his followers as the curtain prepares to drop for the last time? The end of the chapter tells the difference between sheep and goats, the blessed and the cursed. The difference? One group has fed the hungry Jesus, given water to the thirsty Jesus, invited in the stranger Jesus, clothed the naked Jesus, looked after the sick Jesus, visited the prisoner Jesus.
The other group has done none of those things. I am sure you can figure out which group is which. Both of these groups are puzzled as to how they have done, or not done these things. Jesus explains it: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it for me” (Matthew 25:40). These words really don’t fit with the Christmas story. I like the tree, the decorations, the presents, the snow, the songs.
But then, Jesus and his parents running to Egypt for their lives is a little detail I like to ignore as well. Is there room at the manger for those who have nowhere else to go? Can they find warmth and safety there? Can they be accepted there as people that God has created and loves just as much as he loves me? I think I need to arrange some things in my life, push aside some stuff so the homeless and anyone else can get to the manger. If I don’t make room for them, it may be that God will shove me aside to make room for them. That thought doesn’t help me sleep at night. I pray it will keep you up as well. Merry Christmas.
Kevin Barron is the pastor of Perryville and Crossroads United Methodist churches. He can be reached by phone at 573-547-5200 or via email at kdbarron@gmail.com.
