The Man Asleep in the Snow
Please don’t turn away from this post because it is difficult to read. I want to share what is stirring in my heart during this Lent season of personal reflection and repentance and hope this stirs something in you as well.
During one of our recent snowfalls, my wife and I took the kids to one of our favorite sledding destinations. In the midst of our shivering and laughter, one of the kids noticed movement in a nearby patch of trees. It was a man adjusting his sleeping bag. A man sleeping in the snow.
A local friend has been privately messaging me, frantically trying to help a friend who he believes has been wrongfully imprisoned. The imprisoned man has a medical condition not being cared for in the prison, and his family is at risk in ways I can’t spell out here.
An international friend wrote me recently about a woman named Deborah. Her newborn baby was malnutritioned and seeking help for her baby. My friend wrote me a couple of days later informing me that the baby did not survive.
“While each of us cannot solve all the world’s problems, the one option we have not been afforded is to do nothing.”
An impoverished baby the world could not feed. An imprisoned man whose family is in dire straits. A homeless man asleep in the snow.
There are sorrows in this world that resist sustained observation. Those who dare to look for long will likely find themselves moved to action. But, If I look away so as to not witness the desperation, my heart cannot be convicted.
If we are honest, many of us who have the financial resources, do all we can to avoid observing the plight of the desperate. We choose to live, work, play, even vacation away from the sadness. This is not a subtle judgment, just a reality of life in the West.
To refuse to see the plight of your brothers and sisters is to be robbed of the opportunity to feel your heart thump with the compassion of God. We must resist the impulse to look away.
During the Lenten season, Christians fast in order to foster a spirit of self-reflection and repentance. My family negotiates an agreement on something we would like to eliminate for this 40-day stint so that we might focus our spiritual eyes.
This year, we decided to keep a journal of every time the impulse struck to go out to eat or to pursue some entertainment. We are keeping a log of what that expense would be: $65 for a trip to Chick-fil-a. Yes, that is how much it costs for a family of eight with a friend along:) $50 for pizza delivery.
We planned to forgo the expense, and at the end of Lent, plan to give those funds away to someone in need or to an organization with a meaningful ministry to the poor.
While this feels like a heartfelt gesture and positive learning experience for the kids, when I think about Deborah or the man asleep in the snow, it feels like a woefully inadequate contribution to help these dire situations.
One of the most haunting passages in the Christian Scriptures is Matthew 25:31-46. I would recommend reading it every day during Lent.
Jesus declares that at the Final Judgment, He will sit on His throne and separate the sheep from the goats. He will say to the faithful sheep, “You gave me food when I was hungry; drink when I was thirsty; welcomed me into your home when I was a stranger; clothed me when I was naked; came to comfort me when I was sick; visited me when I was in prison. Welcome home my good and faithful servant to your Kingdom home.”
Jesus then goes on to say that these faithful ones will say to Him, “But Jesus, when did we see you in this impoverished condition and do these good works to you?”
The King will reply, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these, you did to me.”
Jesus wants us to see the man asleep in the snow as if it were Jesus Himself nestling there to find warmth in the frigid cold. The woman overseas with the malnutritioned baby is Jesus in the flesh, barely surviving, unable to help her precious baby who has a deadly ache in her belly.
God sees them. Do we?
We can shake our fist at Heaven, in disbelief at the suffering of men, and cry, “How could God allow this?” Heaven would justly reply, “How can you allow this when I have blessed you with the resources to help your neighbor?”
I have to admit that I don’t always know how to help people like the man asleep in the snow. Just one week earlier, in the same location another homeless man, who I assumed struggles with mental illness, walked past us swearing and threatening violence. I struggle to know how to adequately protect my family and also care for those who are loved by God. Our community does not seem to have adequate services in place to care for those suffering with mental illness.
I do financially support LifePath Christian Ministries because they provide shelter and meals for homeless people in my local community. Bell Socialization Services also does the same good work.* I contacted the local police chief to do a wellness check on that man asleep in the snow. I found myself feeling an urge to help but not knowing what to do exactly.
While each of us cannot solve all the world’s problems, the one option we have not been afforded is to do nothing.
One of the great sins of the American Christian church is self-protection and fear that leave us inactive.
In the last few years, I have heard far too much rhetoric from Christians about defending our rights and prosperity. I am not advocating that we relinquish our duty to care for the poor to the government through an alternate economic or political system. I would rather see the government develop healthy economic welfare policies that incentivize and empower individuals, churches, and other organizations to organize those efforts.
It deeply concerns me to see the prosperous West practice increasing amounts of self-concern, self-protection, and self-absorption. Navel-gazing blinds me from seeing the plight of my neighbor.
Jesus is calling us to watch out for the “least of these,” those the world has discarded to the trash heaps of life. To spend our days focused on the selfish accumulation of the world’s assets is a fool’s errand. We are at risk of losing our souls.
There is a man asleep in the snow right here in our own community. Meanwhile, I flippantly complain about the crushing burden of needing more closet space and an island in my kitchen.
There is a Deborah overseas, whose baby has died of malnutrition, while my pantry is overflowing.
There are people who have lost jobs and businesses, while my stock market investments have soared over 100% in the last year.
There are people in peril, living in garbage heaps in slums, women trafficked as sex slaves, children who still do not have clean water in their villages.
My heart is broken this Lent. The tears come quickly as I think about the suffering and desperation of this unfair world out of balance.
My Lent thus far has been full of this rapid-fire succession of images of desperate people. I am doing my best to not turn away because I believe Jesus wants to remind me that He is near, right there in the plight of these people.
Yes, God sees these hurting and suffering, but do I? Do we?
*A friend pointed out the many local orgs which are too many to name. I would encourage you to find orgs in your geography and financially support and volunteer your time.
