I wrote this on 3/15/12:
I gave a double cheeseburger to a homeless man at lunch yesterday. It doesn't seem like much, now that I think about it, but it's been a weird experience for me. I grew up with a rather traditional view on the homeless-- that they're all lazy drug-addicts who should go get a job. But recently, a number of factors shifted in my head as I spotted this scruffy, dirty, half-asleep, and wholly worn-down man sitting in a corner of Burger King.
I noticed him only after I had ordered two double cheeseburgers-- and thoughts started running through my head. Should I go back and order something for him to eat? But I'm in a rush and I can't get back in line. Should I just ignore him and leave him alone? But he probably doesn't get much to eat and I'm sure he needs this lunch more than I do. Am I supposed to give him one of my double cheeseburgers? But I'd get hungry, and, besides, I paid for them. They're mine, aren't they?
As I grew from my childhood, my mother's attitude to the homeless changed a bit; a lot of homeless people have troubled lives or mental disorders or just some bad luck. They might be on drugs or they might not, but giving them some food certainly won't hurt anyone. And anyway, didn't God say that whatever you do for those who are hungry, you do for Him? And wasn't serving the poor a big part of Jesus's ministry? And, after all, I did get baptized on Sunday, and baptism is supposed to be the outward expression of an inward reality-- to strain toward the plan and uses God has for you...And right now, God really wanted mt to give a double cheeseburger to this man. I didn't want to give my food to this man, per se, but I knew I was going to. It's only the right thing to do.
When I got my order, I walked up to the sleeping man and said, "Excuse me sir." He didn't budge. I said "Hello?" but still he didn't move. So I took a burger out of my bag, looked around, and placed it on the table and slid it close to him, and I left.
