No - not that Sunday School picture of Caucasian Jesus :-)
I had an interesting experience on the Elevated Train here in my fair city that I felt like I needed to share.
The train . . . there is nothing quite like it! It is amazing to have public transportation and it is something that we have loved here in Chicago. Of course, you have to take the bad with the good.
There are some unique smells. There are a lot of interesting people. There is a lot of noise. Some rides are silent with everyone on their phone. Others have a group having a loud conversation or someone talking on their phone to a person that is apparently very hard of hearing. There are those that have been riding the train all night right beside businessmen and school children. It is a sampling of the City.
Did I mention that you are very close to complete strangers?
Yeah - there's that too. Rush hour rides are a true phenomena. You are sometimes right in someones face - literally an inch apart and somehow, it works.
I was riding the train back from downtown after meeting a friend for lunch. It was around 3:30 in the afternoon so the train was only moderately crowded. It was a typical ride - nothing too unusual until just a few stops before mine. I was sitting next to a man who got on with a guitar and an ipad. He was quiet and into whatever he was doing on his ipad. We came to the Fullerton stop and a young guy got on to our train car.
It was apparent that he was agitated as soon as he got on. He was dirty and angry. He began addressing the whole train car in a very loud voice. (This is a bit unusual!) He started to tell his story. He had recently been released from the hospital with a foot infection. He showed us his infected foot to make sure we would believe him. (Yikes) He needed money to get his prescription filled. He made a lot of statements, such as
"I know you don't believe me."
"I just need some help."
"I'm homeless and no one will help me."
"People won't listen to you when you look like me."
"At least no one is cussing me out."
He was covered in tattoos and had a pretty wild look in his eyes. He had the look of someone who had traveled a very lonely and dark road. One man gave him a dollar and then the man next to me and I gave him some money. He sat down across from us and started telling us his whole story. It was a story of gang activity, loss of a sister, jail time, being cut off from his family, regret, shame, being down and out with no where to go and no where to turn.
The man next to me was so compassionate. He listened and nodded. He empathized. He looked him in the eye and carried on a conversation with him. The young, troubled man got off at the next stop.
I turned to the man next to me and told him that he did a really good job of showing this guy true compassion and care. He smiled and said that too often, we don't treat people in that situation like they are human - like they matter - that at least we can listen and empathize.
We talked about the plight of the homeless in the City and the role that mental illness plays in it. We talked about how overwhelming it is - but that even the small things we do matter.
We don't know if that young guy used the money we gave him to get his antibiotic. Perhaps he didn't. I noticed him talking to himself and gesturing wildly as he got off the train and walked down the platform. The man next to me and I decided that it didn't matter. We couldn't control what this young guy did with the money, but we could do what we could to let him know that we cared about his story.
I was so touched by the gentleness and caring spirit of my fellow train traveler. I don't know if I will ever see him again, but he truly touched my life and increased my awareness of taking a risk on a train and reaching out to a hurting soul.
Thank you, Jesus, for showing up in the face of a stranger today.
One stranger who was down and out . . .
one stranger who dared to care about him.
I saw You in both faces.
