Date Night

Michelle and I went out last night on an oft-delayed date.  Our favorite place to go when it’s just the two of us is downtown Greenville.  In the past few years a huge overhaul of this area has taken place and the result is really remarkable as evidenced by the throngs of people there last night. 

We weren’t really hungry so we just decided to do a little bit of walking.  It didn’t take long until my 35 weeks pregnant wife had had enough of that.  We found a nice bench in Falls Park where there weren’t a ton of people and just sat.  After a few minutes on that not so comfortable bench we were able to grab a bench swing.  We just sat and talked and watched people.  It was really nice.

After a while, an obviously out of place man came staggering along the path.  When I say “out of place” it was because he was a stark contrast to the mostly white, well put together, WASPy looking folks out that night.  He asked if he could speak to us and I said, “Yes.”  His mostly incoherent speech was not making much sense to me until he put out his hand and showed us a few coins.  He wanted money.  He said he wanted some food, but seeing that the direction he was walking was away from all the food vendors and away from the crowds, I was pretty skeptical that food was at the forefront of his mind.  I told him I didn’t have any cash (I was telling the truth) and he quickly walked away to the nearest trash reciptical and begin searching through it. 

At the same time that this was happening two young ladies that had been sitting in the grass not too far from us stood and began to express their romantic affections for each other.  It wasn’t over the top or anything like that, but it’s not something you see all the time in a community like Greenville. 

At that point, a weight came and pressed on my soul.  The weight had an inaudible voice that said, “Take a good look at this: this young couple and this man who is pilfering through other people’s trash.  Don’t ignore it.  Don’t turn away.  Take it in.  Don’t pretend like it isn’t happening right in front of your face.”  And then the weight got heavier.  It said, “You live here.  This is your city.  What are you going to do about it?”

The “what are you going to do about it?” is what will stay with me for a while.  Not in the sense of  a indignant “how dare these people live like this?  Why don’t you stop them?”, but rather an empathetic “These people are living in either defiance or ignorance of the Gospel and what am I going to do to connect them to it?”

You see, I know what it’s like to live in defiance and ignorance of the Gospel.  Every time I take pride in my good behavior, every time I retreat from God’s presence because of my bad behavior, every time I get angry for people not living up to my standards I am defying the Gospel. 

If I was the kind of person who cried easily, then it would have been rather awkward because I was fighting with everything I had not to.  Instead I just sat in silence while the couple lingered and the man continued to ask for some money from others, with some success.  Even after a good night of rest, some eggs and a french-press coffee (my barista skills still coming in handy), I can’t shake the images or the voice.

This is my city.  What am I going to do about it?

If I’m honest with myself, I already know the answer….and it scares the crap out of me.