As I write this update I am watching the local news in New York City: a steam pipe exploded in midtown Manhattan on Lexington and 41st street leaving a 3-lane wide hole in the street.
This story caught my attention, not only because it was an explosion in the middle of the street, but this past Saturday I was walking a block away from that street with Michael Pepper. We were walking towards the U.N. headquarters when Michael pointed out a pizza joint advertising “99 cent slices.” As we walked by and discussed how the pizza must not taste very good because it was so cheap, a voice from the door step spoke to us. “That’s a deal you can’t beat!” We stopped and turned around to see an elderly man sitting on the steps. Michael approached him agreeing that a deal like that looked too good to be true. The elderly man insisted that we find out for ourselves why it was an unbeatable deal for the best pizza in the city. We introduced ourselves to Julian. He was in his 50’s and had immigrated to New York City from Haiti over 20 years ago.
Michael began to pull out his wallet to pay for the slice of pizza. Julian drew a wad of cash from his shirt looking Michael straight in the eyes and telling him to “be nice” and let him pay. We sat down as Julian brought us the slice of pizza. He began to share with us about his life and where he was living. The apartment building above the pizza shop was his home, provided by the small pension he receives from the government because of his disability. Julian has diabetes and it has taken its toll on his body. He removed his shoes to reveal to us his feet without toes. The gaping hole, he said, was to be covered with a skin graft on Monday. Because of this disability he is unable to work so he sits outside the pizza shop panhandling for change everyday. What set Julian apart was his outlook towards his life.
Julian spoke to us about the troubles he had faced while trying to make it in the big city. His diabetes had forced his toes to be removed; he had been hit by a car and shattered his leg. The law suit for his leg was taking years as he was trying to receive some sort of compensation for the accident. He sat, everyday, across from the Chrysler building, a 6 billion dollar enterprise in 60 stories of steel. It was irony at its best. Each passer by, some most likely multi-millionaires, he would simply smile and greet them. He never shook a cup, he did not hold a sign that asked for what he was to ashamed to say in words. Julian simply sat and smiled. As we ate and talked, a young woman walked by and handed him a dollar. Julian commented that she did this everyday for him and he thanked her graciously. Just a short 2 minutes later another woman walked by asking him for a dollar so she could buy some lunch at the pizza shop. Julian gave her the dollar still in his hand from moments earlier.
What struck us about Julian was his gracious way of life. Julian told us that in order for ends to meet, he has to sit on that doorstep and wait for people to give him money. But Julian NEVER asked us for money, he simply wanted to talk. This is the beauty of ministry. On a street better known for its wealthy elite, an elderly Haitian is hoping to encourage people by living generously when he has so little. Julian’s only request of us was that we would call him to check on him after his surgery. He continuously thanked us for stopping and listening, and encouraged us to do this more often.
Paul Miller writes in his book “Love Walked Among Us” that the principle foundation of Jesus’ physical ministry was that he stopped and looked on the people with compassion. This type of ministry seems wrong. We are often caught up in the formalities. What if Julian did not belong to a Church? What if Julian did not even know Jesus? Not to say these questions are not important (we pursued these questions with him because they are important) but we often are too quick to ask, rather than listen. We sat and did our best to have compassion on Julian. We did our best to listen to his story and ache with him when the injustice of a debilitating disease had taken over his feet. We did our best to encourage him through prayer. We walked away from that door step feeling like we had done more than just met a guy on the streets. It felt like we had made a friend, someone we could continue to seek and love. Someone we could continue to learn from, someone we could see a new way of living life graciously.
Trying to follow Jesus’ way of ministry is impossible. It takes time, it takes giving some of yourself away (sometimes to people who will take it and run). But Jesus has called us to die to ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him. It would have been easier to keep walking down the street. But something inside of us saw Jesus walking down this street, his eyes filled with tears, looking at a man who had nearly lost his feet. I ask God to give me the grace to learn how to stop, how to listen and how to have compassion. I ask for it not when I get to Kenya but even now in New York City.
This story caught my attention, not only because it was an explosion in the middle of the street, but this past Saturday I was walking a block away from that street with Michael Pepper. We were walking towards the U.N. headquarters when Michael pointed out a pizza joint advertising “99 cent slices.” As we walked by and discussed how the pizza must not taste very good because it was so cheap, a voice from the door step spoke to us. “That’s a deal you can’t beat!” We stopped and turned around to see an elderly man sitting on the steps. Michael approached him agreeing that a deal like that looked too good to be true. The elderly man insisted that we find out for ourselves why it was an unbeatable deal for the best pizza in the city. We introduced ourselves to Julian. He was in his 50’s and had immigrated to New York City from Haiti over 20 years ago.
Michael began to pull out his wallet to pay for the slice of pizza. Julian drew a wad of cash from his shirt looking Michael straight in the eyes and telling him to “be nice” and let him pay. We sat down as Julian brought us the slice of pizza. He began to share with us about his life and where he was living. The apartment building above the pizza shop was his home, provided by the small pension he receives from the government because of his disability. Julian has diabetes and it has taken its toll on his body. He removed his shoes to reveal to us his feet without toes. The gaping hole, he said, was to be covered with a skin graft on Monday. Because of this disability he is unable to work so he sits outside the pizza shop panhandling for change everyday. What set Julian apart was his outlook towards his life.
Julian spoke to us about the troubles he had faced while trying to make it in the big city. His diabetes had forced his toes to be removed; he had been hit by a car and shattered his leg. The law suit for his leg was taking years as he was trying to receive some sort of compensation for the accident. He sat, everyday, across from the Chrysler building, a 6 billion dollar enterprise in 60 stories of steel. It was irony at its best. Each passer by, some most likely multi-millionaires, he would simply smile and greet them. He never shook a cup, he did not hold a sign that asked for what he was to ashamed to say in words. Julian simply sat and smiled. As we ate and talked, a young woman walked by and handed him a dollar. Julian commented that she did this everyday for him and he thanked her graciously. Just a short 2 minutes later another woman walked by asking him for a dollar so she could buy some lunch at the pizza shop. Julian gave her the dollar still in his hand from moments earlier.
What struck us about Julian was his gracious way of life. Julian told us that in order for ends to meet, he has to sit on that doorstep and wait for people to give him money. But Julian NEVER asked us for money, he simply wanted to talk. This is the beauty of ministry. On a street better known for its wealthy elite, an elderly Haitian is hoping to encourage people by living generously when he has so little. Julian’s only request of us was that we would call him to check on him after his surgery. He continuously thanked us for stopping and listening, and encouraged us to do this more often.
Paul Miller writes in his book “Love Walked Among Us” that the principle foundation of Jesus’ physical ministry was that he stopped and looked on the people with compassion. This type of ministry seems wrong. We are often caught up in the formalities. What if Julian did not belong to a Church? What if Julian did not even know Jesus? Not to say these questions are not important (we pursued these questions with him because they are important) but we often are too quick to ask, rather than listen. We sat and did our best to have compassion on Julian. We did our best to listen to his story and ache with him when the injustice of a debilitating disease had taken over his feet. We did our best to encourage him through prayer. We walked away from that door step feeling like we had done more than just met a guy on the streets. It felt like we had made a friend, someone we could continue to seek and love. Someone we could continue to learn from, someone we could see a new way of living life graciously.
Trying to follow Jesus’ way of ministry is impossible. It takes time, it takes giving some of yourself away (sometimes to people who will take it and run). But Jesus has called us to die to ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him. It would have been easier to keep walking down the street. But something inside of us saw Jesus walking down this street, his eyes filled with tears, looking at a man who had nearly lost his feet. I ask God to give me the grace to learn how to stop, how to listen and how to have compassion. I ask for it not when I get to Kenya but even now in New York City.
