Over the years of working in and around the streets of downtown Portland, I have talked to many folks who, for different reasons, find themselves living outside. I have listened to how many different people talk about their situation, and one of the resounding things I have heard is a sense of failure. Because we live in a culture that sees success in terms of power, money, and recognition, they see themselves as having failed at all of that. Since the "American Dream” (which in reality is more of the American Myth) says that hard work equals success (which usually means money and power), and their hard work did not, they see failure.*

I read a Facebook post today talking about the moralistic fallacy we make when we make we we equate what “ought” to be (that hard work will lead to financial stability) from what “is” (that in our context hard work in only one factor, whose influence is often small compared to, say, if your parents have money). How embedded this is in our society can be seen in so many ways. You can see it in dehumanizing system we force those in poverty to go through to get their meager benefits. We can see it in how we think we should have a say in what folks on food stamps do with their limited money.  And we can see it in the reality that those of us in the middle class and up actually see those in poverty and living on the streets as less than human.

The fact is, this myth needs to stop. It is hurting people. I am not saying I have all the answers, but if we can't recognize that our economic "success" is not just about how hard we work or how smart we are, we will continue to lose the imagination we need to ask better questions and find better solutions. And there will continue to be a larger and larger wall between those in poverty and those in the middle class, a wall that desperately needs to be broken down, because it is preventing the relationships and community that is vital to moving forward. 

I say all of this as a pastor, and I see relationship and community as central to anything we do in regards to those in poverty. But I think this goes beyond the faith community. Our whole society would be better if we stopped blaming the poor for their situation, and took the time to get to know them. If we truly listened to the complex situations and forces that led people to end up where they are.

How can we do this better? How can we begin to create a culture that sees success outside of money and power? How can we challenge these harmful myths that ignore things like class and privilege and put the blame solely on poor people? And how can begin to imagine, and create, communities where one’s economic situation is not a hinderance to being a participant in the life of the community?

We can do better. I know we can. Let's do it together.


*In case anyone wants to ask, yes, I occasionally met folks who were ok living outside. But it was a very small number. Most, by far, did not want to be there. Some had lost hope. Some did not know how there could get out of where they are. But very, very, very few were actually ok with living outside. This is another myth that needs to go away.

As I was sipping my coffee this morning and looking over the day, this tweet popped into my Twitter feed. I didn’t think much of it, and it passed by like most tweets do. But I kept thinking about it. It simply said, “Evangelicals divided over whether immigrants are drain on resources or an opportunity to share Jesus."

Though there were many issues I had with this quote, I was struck by the word "opportunity." I realized how much of the Christian faith that I grew up with saw people as opportunities. Sure, they were human beings, made in the image of God. But at the end of the day, there always had to be a string attached, a way of making sure that we didn’t miss out on the opportunity to share Jesus. Now this is nothing new nor surprising for those who grew up in, or have a decent knowledge of, American Evangelicalism. 

But what struck me today in thinking about this was how much this idea kept me from really having to encounter the other. Really encountering someone different from me. The church I grew up in was, like most churches in the United States, full of people that looked just like me, and had similar levels of wealth and privilege to me. This meant that when I met someone outside of that context, even when I really liked them and just wanted to know them, there was always that underlying question of how to bring up Jesus. Even as I began to shift in my faith, and began to see salvation as far bigger than a decision for Jesus, that feeling lingered.

My friend Ken, who began HOMEpdx, the community I worked with in Portland for three years, would often come and share with churches and other groups that were volunteering. He was wonderful at facilitating those times of reflection about how we be friends to those living outside. In one of these conversations, the idea came up about seeing Jesus in “the least of these,” referring to those living outside. Ken thought for a moment, and then replied, “You know, I don’t see Jesus in my friends who live outside. I just see my friends.” 

The point he was making was not about whether or not Jesus is present with those our culture has pushed to the margins. He was pointing out how often we don’t see people for who they are. We see an opportunity. We see an example of injustice. We see a need we can fix.  But all of us, first and foremost, need to see them as people. As human beings like us. 

And by seeing the humanity in those who live outside, we were seeing Jesus.

This was one of the most powerful things I learned at HOMEpdx. That seeing the humanity in those who live outside was not a step in living out the Gospel. It was the Gospel. I begin to see people, not as needs or opportunities. Not as objects in a story about the cool Christian things I am doing. But as people. People who became my friends. I still fail at this sometimes. I still sometimes see a need before I see a person. But I want to be a person that sees people, as they are, as worth of knowing simply because they exist.

You will often here me say, as many have said before me, that the biggest hinderance to the church helping the poor is that the church doesn’t know the poor. And it’s hard to know the poor if we can't begin with seeing them as people.

For many years, a sign hung at HOMEpdx. It was a quote from Ken, that read: “You deserve to be loved simply because you exist." How can we, as followers of Jesus, live out this quote today?