Wild Faith: Ryan's Jungle Opera

“I have been a bad boy,” confessed the tall, dark-skinned man. His voice was rough and deep, perhaps from drug use or illness. He could barely hold his head up, let alone make eye contact with me. I tried to look him in the eyes, but he kept his head bowed and down.

“Sir, what do you mean? What did you do?” My patience was wearing thin, but I tried to be respectful of this man who came to me for guidance.

“I am cursed. I can never return home again. I have been banished by my own family and by my faith. I am alone here, in this city. Nobody will help me or even acknowledge my existence. They are all cowards! They are all sinners! They should be punished for their crimes against God!” The man raised his head and began to scream at the top of his lungs. His face contorted in anger as tears streamed down his face, “They should all be castrated!!!” He then fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably while rocking back and forth on the ground.

The night before, I had been called by a fellow parishioner because they saw this disheveled man screaming obscenities at passing cars and people on the street corner near our church building. When I approached him and spoke to him, he told me that he had come here from somewhere far away seeking shelter in our church community. He said that he was hungry and tired after having traveled by foot on an overnight journey from the airport into town. He wanted to stay here with us in safety while figuring out where he would go next in his travels across our great country. But instead of being welcomed into our community with open arms, he was met by bitter rejection and shamed for his neediness as well as for his extreme appearance and dress code that seemed out of sync with our community's social norms and expectations. He was forbidden from entering the building, told that we didn't allow homeless people to sleep there overnight, informed that we don't give out food or clothing donations, and instructed to go away from our property immediately or else we would call the police to arrest him for trespassing on church property. It was obvious that he had not bathed in days or weeks; his hair was matted down on top of his head and clumped together with mud; he wore torn clothes that were covered in dirt stains; he carried a backpack full of personal belongings; and worst of all - he was carrying a tall walking stick that looked like it could be used as a weapon if needed (which it was).

All these things added up together made this man look scary - threatening even - yet when I talked with him face-to-face outside our building, he seemed like a kind person who just needed some love and compassion. And since this is what Jesus would have done if He lived today (Matthew 25:31-46), this is exactly what I did for this desperate stranger last night after church let out: I invited him into my house so that we could talk about some basic needs like food and rest as well as address some deeper spiritual matters like how we Christians ought to treat one another -- especially those who are suffering -- whether they are "sinners" or not!