A Little Miracle

A miracle of sorts happened today. I call it a miracle because it was an unexpected break-through.

A homeless man, who often attended my church more than a year ago, returned to church today. As usual, he took residence in the front pew on the opposite side of where I sit. In the past, he never conversed or made eye contact with anyone other than the pastor. He always left before the passing of the peace and communion, and I suspect it might have had something to do with embarrassment when the offering occurs.

As I was reading the bulletin this morning, I didn’t notice his arrival until I heard a voice from across the aisle. He began asking about our new pastor and even shared that he just saw his four grandchildren for the first time – two boys and two girls who reside in Wisconsin. I also learned that, just like me, he was a Lawrence native. In our discourse, we exchanged last names and I told him that it was good to see him return to our church.

I noticed that friends who came to talk with me before the service completely ignored his presence. I think the only one who spoke with him was the pastor who always sits in the first pew for quiet preparation before the service begins.

There are probably many who did not witness the easy conversation between the homeless man and myself, but it brought home something that I’ve heard pastors preach about many times. Church should be the most welcoming place on earth, yet we often segregate ourselves.  We, like many congregations,  often have subtle derision by color, age, gender and even economic status. If we truly believe that we are all equal and the loved in God’s eyes, this is not acceptable.

Often, I wished to make eye contact with the homeless man when he attended in the past. I would have gone over to where he sat just to welcome him, but mobility issues prevented me from doing so. But today, God intervened and opened the mouth of this visitor, and I’m grateful.

I’m grateful that God chose me to show that all are valued in His sight. I admit that I’m often guilty of failure in that regard. But while others may have ignored the man, he at least knew that he was welcomed by me and by the pastor.

He did slip out as usual, but I hope he returns again. I plan to ask his first name and to be able to greet him as I do others with whom I am acquainted.  What a privilege it is to connect with others who are different and then discover that we are really more alike than we know. That discovery is also a little miracle.