The Front Porch

The front porch was dusty.  A white plastic chair was occupied by a man smoking a cigar.  In the center of the porch was some matching plastic chairs placed around a small white table, with three other men sitting around it enjoying their self rolled smokes and whatever liquor was in the clear labeless bottle in the center of the table.  The floor of the porch was made out of old 2x4’s, some that were splintering, and others that were warped over the many years of soaking in the hot Mississippi sun. 

I sat there on this porch, with these men as I awaited the return of my money.  I traveled 45 minutes from Jackson to receive the promised payback of my $300.00.  I should have known the situation I was putting myself in as I was directed by the man who owed me my money to turn down an obscure gravel road off of highway 98.  We traveled down this road for about 4 miles before pulling into what could hardly be called a home. I should have never been on this porch to begin with.  The feeble state of that front porch represented the situation I would soon find myself in.

Two weeks prior to this day, I met a man who was in need of some help.  We struck up a casual conversation about life at a gas station in the inner city of Jackson Mississippi.  I learned that this man was living in and out of hotels as he was able to afford it.  Upon hearing his story, my compassion for the man and his estate led me to purchase him a 3 night stay at a local motel.  He was so elated to hear of my desire to help him that he promised he would pay me back.  Two weeks later, he called me up and said he had a friend who owed him $300.00 and wanted to take me to his home to retrieve the money in order to fulfill his word to me.  As a college student, I was delighted to have my money back.   We jumped into my freshly washed and waxed truck (the pride of my college days), with my chrome rims shining and pumping stereo system blaring, and took off to a location that was foreign to me.

Now I have been sitting on this porch for two hours, beginning to doubt the validity of this man’s words to me.  “Tony, when is your friend going to be here?”  “Soon, white boy”, he responded as his friends chuckled.  Thirty minutes later, a purple grand marquis rolled into the driveway.  I was grateful to see it pull in as I finally thought I would be getting my money and be getting out of there.

The driver and two other men stepped out of the car.  The driver pulled what appeared to be a .45 out of his waist line and tossed it on the hood of the car.  His passenger pulled out an equally commanding hand gun and tossed it on the hood of the car.

“Man this car is great” the driver said with pride.  “We just jacked it last night.  It was tough breaking into the trunk, but we finally got in.”  I looked at the trunk lid and saw the drilled out key hole and I knew these guys were not joking around.

Then came the conversation that was my que to leave.  “Did you hear about the man Franky got last night?”  I mentally flashed through all of the definitions of what “got” meant as quickly as I could, as I was clearly outnumbered and looking to be the next story these men told. “Yeah, he killed that man with one shot.” 

I turned to Tony and said, “Merry Christmas, you just made yourself $300.00.  I am going to take off.”  “No, No Greg, don’t take off, your money is coming.”  “Tony, you got to be kidding me, I’ve been here for three hours, my money is not coming, and I am starting to see that there may be another reason for me being here.”

I got into my truck and fired it up.  As I was preparing to pull out, four of the men surrounded the truck, with the owner of the .45 leaning into the passenger window.  “You got a clean truck.  Nice system, real nice vehicle.”  I quickly replied, “And I am going to keep it that way.” I threw my shifter backwards into reverse, and took off.

My mind plagued me as I drove back down that gravel road without my $300.00.  “How did I put myself into this position?  Why did I even help this man out to begin with?  It’s not like I am rolling in money, and yet clearly this man can’t afford a home because of the lifestyle he has chosen and the decisions he has made.  Why did I throw my money away!”

Those thoughts plagued me for a long time as I tried to reconcile my actions to my Christian obligation to love and to make disciples.

The flaw in my thinking at the time and in the thinking of many Christians I have spoken to, is the thought that compassion for an individual is what ultimately drives the great commission.  Although this is partly true, there is one other thing that comes before my compassion for an individual that should drive my evangelism, and that is to see the glory of God revealed in that person’s life.

The problem with being led solely by compassion is we will make decisions based upon a person’s comfort level and therefore try to appease their physical estate in order to show them love in hopes to soften their hearts to the Gospel.  This is a very dangerous approach to making disciples as this has the potential of removing some of the consequences of a person’s sin from their life, thus removing the full weight of their sinful lifestyle. Therefore our compassion enables them in their idolatrous lifestyle.  The continued effect is, they no longer are starving for the truth.  They become that much less receptive to hearing the Gospel and really soaking it in (although they may “listen” to you to appease you as you are the bearer of some tangible gift”).  Romans 12 says to give basic necessities to our enemies, food and water, it doesn’t say that we are responsible for clothing, shelter, utility bills, and other commodities.  We are not called as Christians to toss our resources as a church or as individuals at the feet of those who will simply consume them for fleshly desires.  I believe the church has thrown away too much money and resources already with this approach to evangelism, that is, handing out free stuff to whomever without consideration of what Scripture says on how we are to rightly use our resources. 

I made myself $300.00 poorer in order to give Tony 3 nights to enjoy what I later learned to be a drug ridden, whoring lifestyle.  For three nights he did not have to think about providing a roof over his head or if the mosquitoes were going to be out that evening, or if he would have to go find some quick work to give him the comfort of a bed.  For three nights, he didn’t have to face the consequences of his sensual lifestyle; rather, he got to indulge in it a bit more.  I would have been much better off feeding him a pbj sandwich and giving him a glass of water and talking with him about life than just opening up my checkbook hoping that my wallet could soften the heart of this man, a job that only the Holy Spirit can do.

Matthew 7:6 Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you.

I have learned that there is something more that the world needs than my compassion and that is Jesus.  Now, I ask the Holy Spirit to guide me in how I am to physically help people, but also to show me the truth of their situation in order for me to do my part in revealing the glory of God into their lives.

Tony’s will show up in our lives all the time, we don’t want to turn a cold shoulder to them, and we don’t want to toss our pearls at their feet. Instead, let’s commit to be guided by the Word of God and the Holy Spirit in those moments to reveal the fullness of God and His truth in their moments of desperation.