Issue 1172 – Ghost Man – June 8, 2023

I came across this image of a homeless man online recently, and it reminded me of something that happened years ago while I was reporting for a major Christian newspaper.
The giant of a man in a battered overcoat shuffled in our direction. He was one of the many ghost people who lived in that part of town. I call them ghost people because if we encounter one, we look right through them as if they don’t exist.
He was poor, and it showed. He had on two different shoes of different sizes. His clothes were an assortment of sizes that looked like castoffs from a thrift store. It looked (and smelled) as if it had been long since he had bathed or shaved.
I guess he lived in a cardboard box somewhere, or when the weather was particularly nasty, and his luck held got a room at one of the hostels or homeless shelters in the area. He said something to me that I will never forget.
I was on assignment in the area visiting an inner-city mission. The story was to interview a number of the volunteers that worked among the homeless. The mission itself was pretty typical. They ran a food and clothing bank, provided meals, and offered various other services to the disenfranchised of the community. Their clientele was a mix of the addicted, the mentally ill, the chronically unemployable and some who chose life on the street.
I had completed most of my interviews and was having coffee with one of the long-time volunteers. He was a former inner-city resident who had come through many struggles of his own. He shared some fantastic stories of the work of the mission and the lives that had been impacted.
He told me of finding a murder victim behind a dumpster a few weeks before, a story I had barely paid attention to in the news. He shared how the mission was safe amid a dark and dangerous world. He spoke of the compassion of the staff and the love of God.
He talked about his heart being broken by the lost who lived in a world of junkies, whores and winos. He spoke of the dangers they faced from the predators who lived in that world, preying on the helpless. He loved his little flock. He knew their hurts and secrets. He understood their pain and struggle. He knew that many of them had been “normal” people before their lives had been changed by circumstance.
As we talked, the giant in the overcoat came and sat down with us. My companion told him why I was there. The ghost man looked at me and stood up with a strange look. To be honest, he towered over me and frightened me. I wondered if I had broken some unwritten rule and was in danger.
Ghost man looked me in the eye, smiled, and said, “We around here we help the poor people,” and shuffled off.
Here was a man who had nothing by any standard I used. He had no job, no home, no future. He lived in the worst parts of the ghetto. Just another of the people we hope to never encounter.
Yet he was proud of his ability to help the “poor people.” Not an egotist sort of pride, simply a simple feeling of doing good to others.
That made me think of a story in the gospels.
And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” Mark 12:41-44
I didn’t envy the ghost man’s circumstances but longed for a heart of compassion like his. His contentment and desire to help others made me ashamed of my self-centred materialist heart.
Until next time may God cultivate a heart of compassion in each of us.
Be Blessed
Hallelu Yah / Praise God
Kevin
Gleanings From The Word
Experience an extraordinary God in ordinary life.
Soli Deo Gloria (For the glory of God alone)
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Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture is from the English Standard Version (ESV).
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