To the One We Call "Other"

We’ve all seen this man. He sits on street corners and uses newspapers for insulation. He sleeps under the bridge to stay out of the way of the wind and the rain. He stands on the off-ramps holding a sign. He’s a nuisance. He’s going to ask for money.

He has sores.

He’s unkempt.

He’s dangerous.

He’s other.

What if he tries to attack me? What if he wants my car? What if I talk to him but I can’t help? What if I realize he’s crazy? What if he smells? What if he touches me? What if he sees me looking? What if he sees me turn away? What if he hears my car door lock? What if . . .

In Atlanta alone there are over 50,000 men like this. They sleep where they can stay warm. They eat what’s available. They are poor. They are dirty. They have sores.

But they are also someone’s brother. Someone’s son. Someone’s friend from second grade. They have a favorite color and a memory of childhood they never seem to forget that only makes them laugh when remembered. They have stories of their first kiss and their extra base hit in the bottom of the seventh in the championship game. They have passions and they have regrets. They weep when they are sad and they laugh when someone looks them in the eye and sees them for the beloved child they are – instead of the ‘dirty other’ they’ve become.

Spiritually speaking, that person is you and that person is me. We too know what it is like to be the distained and rejected. We know the pains of life and the toils of our sins. We know sin casts us out and make us feel alone and worthless. That's why we dedicated our life to Christ.

Spiritually speaking, we are all this man. We all are dirty and need something outside of us to bring healing.

Physically, though . . . physically, we are never this man. This man is always – the other.

To this man I would like to say, “I’m sorry. You are a beloved child of God and your life is as sacred as mine. May I learn humility to the point where I can look at you and see the God I love, the God I serve, the God I choose to dedicate my life to, in the face smiling back at me . . .”