The comfort of ignorance: a lament

So before last week I had no idea what Nickelsville was. All that changed when Thursday night as I went to sit in with the homeless tent city Nicklesville in South Seattle. Seattle, as with all cities in the States, has a high homeless population. While this is nothing new, what is new is the rate at which homelessness around the country is growing.

This economic struggle that has hit the country has forced more and more out of their homes and onto the streets. Some, like those living in Nickelsville, are coming up with creative ways to not only deal with the issue, but also try to end the issue. It is a group of homeless that have grouped together to bring safety and stability to a very scary way of life. Nickelsville provides a sense of community to people that have nothing.

I got the chance to talk at length with one of their head volunteers this weekend. He was going to try to have me come out to visit tonight to meet some of the people and hear their stories. Unfortunately that feel through with all the publicity that came out of last week's events. Although Jeff is going to try to see about having me visit sometime before I leave Seattle.

Talking with Jeff, I understood that these were not just random people he felt pity for. No, these were friends and family. They ministered to him as much or more than he ministered to them. As he told story after story about friends that were living in tents, I sat in awe. Jeff was one of the few blessed souls. One of the few that have the blessing of living a life without an "us and them" mentality. The homeless aren't people to be scared of, or people to push off. They are, period. They are people. I am slowly beginning to understand the horrors that come about when we adopt an "us vs. them" mentality. When we begin to view the world and the things in it as something to own and possess rather than tools to use to better ourselves and others, all kinds of evil erupts.

I have always been drawn to the picture in Acts of a church that shared everything as people had need. We have an amazing story of these new followers of Jesus selling homes, and distributing wealth. Without any regard to who owned what, people gave people took. And all were equal. I have always read that and heard that preached, but never have I seen anything that looks like that.

That is until a friend gave me his car.

That one act blew my world. No longer could I live in the mindset of those living around me where they worked to buy things they didn't need. No longer could I consider what I held in my possession to by solely mine. If someone else needed what I had been entrusted to more than me, it my not only my privilege, but my obligation to the rest of the world to serve them by paying forward what was given to me.

Given. I like that word. So much less prideful than earned. One doesn't earn a pay check. No, they are given money. It isn't their right. They aren't owed anything. Except the right to die. We are have that right. But even then, death can be an opportunity to give. Consider those who give their lives to save others.

When we view life through "give" rather than "earn" the world gets flipped upside down. But upside down is scary. Remember the first time you rode the cork screw? It messes with your paradigms. With your sense of right and wrong. Justice. Freedom. Liberty. All of these abstract ideas have become concrete in our American psyche But isn't the point of America that the people get to decide what liberty is for themselves? When did it become something that is pigeon holed, defined for eternity?

I need to get off my soap box.

I guess the point I want to make is that in the comfort of our own little world we forget that everyone else is human....just like us. All of us are flying through space of the same planet as everyone else. That alone should be enough to humble us and make us sit on the ocean drinking a beer with a stranger listening to their story.

Kind of reminds me of a song "What it's like" by Everlast.

We've all seen the man at the liquer store beggin for your change
The hair on his face dirty, dreadlocked and full of mange
He asks the man for what he could spare with shame in his eyes
"Get a job you fuckin slob" is all he replied
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues

Will we turn away? Will we keep the madness of ignorance going? It's easy to turn away from an ambiguous problem. If we believe the lies of ignorance that homeless are all a bunch of drunks that don't deserve our help. We have a job why can't they. We also have places to take showers so we can look presentable for our interviews. We also have clothes to wear. We also have a bed to sleep on instead of cold, hard concrete where it might take a beer or two to knock you into a hopefully pleasant slumber.

It's much harder to turn away a friend. We let brothers and sisters crash on our couches. We welcome old college friends and insist that they stay in our guest room instead of across town at the hotel. But how often do we get to really know the family that is living under the bridge we drive on to work everyday. Or do we quickly lock our car doors if they happen to come into view. What are we so damn protective of?

Maybe it's having our lives truly changed. Maybe we are scared of making a friend.