What to do with hungry, thirsty strangers

You know you've been there. We all have. You’re walking down the street, minding your own business, and then it happens.

“Excuse me sir, can you spare some change?�

Just like that.

Then what?

If you’re like me, a lot is going through your mind: thoughts of supporting destructive habits, or making them lazy, or dehumanizing them, or maybe rationalizations: “I’m not rich� or “Okay, fine, I am rich but I’ve worked hard for what I have.� These all seem to coalesce in that moment of truth, along with some incredibly inconvenient verses from the Bible about sheep and goats and the real sin of Sodom and real worship and real religion, and how our so-called faith is worthless if we disregard real needs by spiritualizing them. It’s information overload. And if the Bible is true, the stakes are high.

This sort of thing has happened to me a lot lately. Last night I was on my way into the grocery store a few blocks away from my apartment and it was snowing. A man came up to me in the parking lot, showed me 90 cents in change, explained that his car broke down and that he needed money for a cab. I gave it to him. His name was Robert.

This evening, while walking home from work a man stepped out of the shadows and asked me for change. I apologized and said I didn’t have any. I did. It was a lie. I didn’t ask his name.

Why did I give ten bucks to Robert but left the nameless man on the sidewalk without as much as a dime? Why did I once buy a pair of train tickets for people I had just met but countless times have done my best to ignore or quickly refuse other, far simpler, requests? Why, while I'm at it, did I not tell Robert to hop into my car? Why didn't I take the nameless guy to Subway or McDonald's and ask him about his day? Why do I get so uncomfortable when people are so candid about their needs? Could it be that I've been conditioned to mask my own?

Now, I’ve read the books. I’ve studied Scripture. I’ve prayed about it, thought about it, discussed it here and there. I’ve taken classes in economics, community development, even theology of poverty, for crying out loud. I’ve absorbed a lot of information but still, every time someone asks me for money, it’s an instant, scrambled decision.

When I do give, I try to exchange names and a handshake - you know, to level the playing field, to keep the dignity. At times I've asked them to “pay it forward� when they can. Sometimes I bring Jesus into it - which seems like the right thing to do since he has everything to do with it - but doing so can also feel a bit forced and condescending, as if there are strings attached to grace.

When I don’t give, I try to avoid eye contact. If that fails, I pat my pocket, shrug, and act disappointed. I might pick up the pace, look busy, or think about how I can make up for it by reading my Bible, or by reminding myself that I have a degree in international development and will help plenty of other people soon enough.

While living in Cambodia I got to know a remarkable Dutch woman who embodies compassion, working for a Christian development organization and adopting several Cambodian kids over the years. Once I asked her what she does when a stranger on the street asks for change, which happens, incidentally, all the time. She said that each time, she just listens to the Holy Spirit and takes the next step, whatever it is. I believe her and slightly envy her, because to me, other voices tend to compete loudly in such moments, and the Holy Spirit line just seems like something I'd say as a good Christian cop-out.

Later, a friend in Lancaster told me he decided to contribute regularly to the rescue mission  downtown, and when asked for money he’d point people there. The idea was that this would eliminate the problem of not knowing where the money will go, while also not failing to meet real needs. It was a better approach than any I’d come up with, and a clear demonstration of my friend’s concern for those in need, but I worried that I'd just use the idea as a way of outsourcing compassion to professionals.

So, I pose the question: do you have a consistent approach in these situations, when you're put on the spot with a request for some change? If so, how did you get there? What experiences led you there? In all of the Bible’s teaching about money and greed and compassion, have you found a consistent pattern as it relates to this? How do you balance competing arguments for and against looking a stranger in the eye, reaching into your pocket, smiling, and giving them whatever you have?

And perhaps trickiest of all: how do you keep it rooted in love?