In memory of Bruce...

On Mondays I volunteer at Fraser Street Commons for a couple hours.  The coffee is ground fresh daily so it's actually pretty good, especially when you consider it's free. This, along with free WiFi attracts an array of individuals, but primarily Penn State students and the homeless.   While students may be willing to greet you they are usually preoccupied with their studies and don't usually engage in much conversation.  The homeless, however, are a different story.  They often come in with little more than the clothes on their backs, usually looking for a change of scenery and to get out of either the cold or the heat.  Many days they come in ready to have a conversation with you, small talk mostly.  It frequently consists of complaints about the weather or grumbles about whatever is currently raising their hackles - a sour family relationship, a fight with a friend, the difficulty in getting much needed services.  I can sometimes relate to their angst over relationships gone bad but rarely can I even begin to touch the losses of their lives. I listen for awhile but if I appear too disinterested they move on.

That's not how I remember Bruce though.  I only met the man a couple different times.  He'd come in out of the cold looking for a cup of coffee to warm him up.  After he'd retrieved his coffee and fixed it to his liking he came and stood over me.  He wore a dirty, orange coat that looked as though it must have been cast off from one of the nearby correctional facilities.  His haggard, unshaven face looked worn and ragged.  He didn't seem to be aware that most people prefer an ample amount of personal space, though his proximity to me was less of a problem for me than was the odor emanating from him.  He reeked of sweat and urine.  "What are you reading?" he queried.  I lifted the Bible study I had been working on before he arrived.  "A Bible study in First Peter," I replied simply.  "I lead a group of women on Thursdays," I quickly added.  His face lit up and a smile spread warmly across his weary features.  "I love First Peter.  Grace."  We spoke briefly and knowledgeably of the wonders of God's grace and I wondered how this man had come to reside in the margins of life.

As time went on, it became apparent that there were a number of people in the homeless community who considered him a friend.  One fellow told me that Bruce used to be a teacher - and a good one at that.  I have no way of confirming or denying that piece of information since I never found out Bruce's last name.  I heard tales of how he'd defecate himself when he became upset.  That seemed probable because he smelled as though he had done just that.  He seemed to suffer from some sort of dementia or mental illness, even though he had spoken intelligently with me for a short but full conversation.

Yesterday I found out that a homeless man had died in State College last week.  My heart sunk though I had no idea who the man was.  Somehow I feared it was Bruce.  Today when I went for my shift at Fraser Street Commons and interacted with the homeless who darkened the door I would have known something had happened even if I hadn't heard the bad news.  They mentioned Bruce's name, but not in the friendly way I'd grown accustomed to hearing.  They were upset, hurting.  My heart went out to them as I watched them sit in their misery.  I just didn't know how to relate.  

Yet, this reminds me of how brief life is.  I am reminded of the very text Bruce and I discussed.  Writing to believers who had been scattered through persecution the apostle Paul recollects:

 For through the eternal and living Word of God you have 

been born again. And this “seed” that he planted within 

you can never be destroyed but will live and grow 

inside of you forever. For: 

Human beings are frail and temporary, like grass,

    and the glory of man fleeting

    like blossoms of the field.

    The grass dries and withers and the flowers fall 

And this is the Word that was announced to you!

1 Peter 1:23-25 TPT

If all we have to hope for is in this life only, our existence is shallow at best.  But thankfully God's Living Word is available to everyone.  The grace of which Bruce and I spoke is real.  The Word that was announced to those early believers is the same today as it was then.  There is life beyond the one we can see, hear and touch.  It's substantial.  It's eternal.  It's available.  It  only needs to be believed and received.

Bruce, I hope your knowledge of grace was experiential and not merely informative.  I hope you are being loved in the arms of Jesus right now.  It's the best any of us could ever want.

A Heart for the Fatherless

To the fatherless he is a father.
 To the widow he is a champion friend.

    To the lonely he gives a family.

    To the prisoners he leads into prosperity until they sing for joy.

    This is our Holy God in his Holy Place!  

Isaiah 68:5-6a TPT

I heard a statistic today that alarmed me.  A friend of mine shared a video made by Dr. Warren Farrell regarding what he calls #theBoyCrisis.  Did you know that 51% of women under the age of 30 are raising children with no father involvement?  Farrell claims that 100% of school shooters have grown up without a father in their lives.  What's more, statistics indicate that  children who have grown or are growing up in fatherless homes are much more likely to commit suicide, run away from home, drop out of school or suffer behavior disorders.  Fatherlessness has become a social pariah of epidemic proportions.

While the news seems very, very bad, I think it opens up a tremendous opportunity for the church.  The Bible has much to say about the fatherless.  In fact the Hebrew word for fatherless, or orphan as it is often translated, yäthōm, occurs forty-two times in the Old Testament.  Nearly half of the references are direct commands to help the fatherless or involve them in community.  Most of the rest are indictments against God's people for not involving themselves with the care of orphans and widows.  Is this an important topic to God?  Forty-two occurrences?   Repetition is a sign of significance when studying the Bible.  In other words, yes, this is important.

Unfortunately for the fatherless, just as the Israelites forgot about the needs of the most vulnerable among them, so too the church often overlooks the needs of single moms raising children on their own.  I have observed far too often the church turning a blind eye or standing in judgment of the single mom.  I once had a beautiful friend who was raising a son without the aid of his father.  The father was a dangerous man who needed to remain distant for the protection of this young mom and her son.  During the process I observed her angst over her own failings, failings which the church within whose walls she had sought solace heaped judgment over her.  Fortunately not all within the church hopped the Pharisee train.  One gentleman, whose children were grown, frequently took this young man on adventures.  My husband spoke frequently with him.  There were a few other men who took him under their wings.  I believe that God protected this young man.  His mother, my friend, died suddenly about a year ago.  She wound up raising an incredibly well-adjusted young man with a solid character.  But I know she didn't do it alone.  It took God's intervention.  And it took a community.   

With the large absence of fathers, the community within the church is more important than ever for the development of the next generation.  The heart of God's law made special concessions for needy among the people of Israel.  No where is this more clear than Deuteronomy 24.  God warns His people, namely the church today, of the importance of caring for the outsider, the widow and the fatherless.  He gives specific instruction in ways He expected Israel to care for this needy population, namely in leaving grain, grapes and olives for them to be able to consume.  This represented the basic necessities the agrarian inhabitants of  Israel  needed to survive.  In today's culture I would argue that much more than the very basic necessities of nourishment are needed.  These mothers and children need a supportive environment in which to thrive.  They need mentors and teachers.  They need an investment of time.  They need role models to which they can turn.  They need couples who are willing to venture into the community at large to seek out the needy and the vulnerable.  They need men!  Men who are willing to champion the cause of the overlooked and lonely (the root word in the Hebrew from which yäthōm is derived means to be lonely).

Alan currently serves on the board of the local Pregnancy Resource Clinic.  This has opened our eyes and heart to some of the special needs of moms who have chosen to keep their child rather than seek abortion.  Recently we were given the privilege of opening our hearts and our home to a young woman who was left high and dry by the father of her unborn child, a woman being served by PRC.  As I drove with her to her hometown last weekend she expressed some apprehension over raising a child on her own.  Now that I've been made aware of the statistics I am realizing just how founded her concern is.  And I have become committed to bringing awareness to her plight.  My quick answer to her was that she needed to make sure there was a godly male role model for her son, that I'd known someone who had been able to make it work under even under more unreasonable circumstances.  While that advice was given with great concern and compassion, I now recognize how short-sighted it is.  I need to do more than just encourage her.  I need to commit to change for her.  I need to be there when her needs are greatest.  And I need my husband to join that effort.  I need to insert myself into the equation without being domineering or judgmental.  I don't know what that looks like yet.   But I know with confidence that I will.  God doesn't put us in situations He can't handle.  

Here's the bottom line.  If the church is unwilling to provide a safe and supportive community for the vulnerable, who will?  Often waiting for single, unwed mothers to show up on our doorstep yields nothing.  Most will be too embarrassed or too anxious to ask for help from a "religious" organization.  Why risk accusation and disapproval?  We need to meet them where they're at.  Where is that?  Try your local crisis pregnancy center.  Many, if not most, will welcome volunteers.  Or try becoming a Big Brother or Big Sister.  There are never enough volunteers for all the children that could benefit from some one on one time with a godly adult.  Go hang out at your local community center.  Check with your local school to see if they have a mentorship program that could use another volunteer.  The possibilities are endless, really. 

God calls Himself a Father to the fatherless.  If we are to be holy as He is holy (1 Peter 1:15-16) doesn't it seem right that we should seek out the fatherless, bring them into community then? If you happen to be among those who say they are pro-life I would challenge you to put your actions where your words are.  Continue to fight for the fatherless children you say you are concerned for.  Life doesn't end at birth.  Maybe you are the family that God is going to give. (Isaiah 68:6a)

Today I leave you with the song, Strong God, by Meredith Andrews.  Let this become your prayer and your commitment.

Father to the fatherless Defender of the weak

Freedom for the prisoner we sing

This is God in His holy place

This is God clothed in love and strength

Sing out lift your voice and cry out

Awesome is our strong God mighty is our God

You're with us in the wilderness faithful to provide

Ev'ry breath and ev'ry step we see

Sing out lift your voice and cry out

Awesome is our strong God mighty is our God

Sing out raise your hands and shout out

Awesome is our strong God mighty is our God

There is no higher no

There is no greater no

There is none stronger than our God