My Last Night in Austin

By Kelly
How time flies when you’re……graduating. I suppose you notice that entries have been sparse, but hopefully with degrees in hand and our classes behind us we can get back on track.

So speaking, of graduating, I moved off campus last week.  It was so weird to pack up that tiny dorm room that has been my home for the last few years of my life.  It was also weird to see just how much a room that size can hold.  Seriously it was 4 cars worth.  For the last and final load, I took my little brother with me to help me out.  For those who do not keep up with the details of my family life, Bennett, my brother is 18.  The sibling dynamic for a seminarian, or at least THIS former seminarian, is odd.  For example, my brothers and sisters know what I do, I’m pretty sure they respect it and are proud.  But they constantly giggle whenever I do anything pastoral.  They think my preaching voice is funny and they make fun of the way I hold my hands when I bless the food at dinner.  It’s a family thing.  But the result is that I just don’t discuss anything religious with my siblings.  Bennett, in classic 18 year old form, is struggling with his faith.  He’s not sure what he believes or what that means to/for him.  I told him it’s normal and he doesn’t believe me.  But this weekend we shared a pretty cool moment.

After dinner at Mellow Mushroom (where we’d ordered enough food to feed 4 people) we packed up our leftovers and waited for the check.  As we put the pizza in boxes, I remarked kind of offhandedly, “Now there’s a small chance that someone will ask for our food on the way back to campus.”

“Who’s going to take our food?!?”

“No one’s going to take it.  Someone might ASK for it.”

“Like who?”

“Like a homeless person, or a street youth.”

“What’s a street youth?”

So we talked awhile about what a street youth was, and he was shocked.  I suppose for him the idea of a kid like him living on the streets was inconceivable.  We talked about homelessness and how many people were experiencing homelessness in Austin but I could tell there was something else bothering him.  Finally he came out with it:

“So do you think my food is going to be safe?”

I laughed.  “What do you mean ‘be safe’?”

“Well, like if someone ask me for my food and they’re hungry, then I’m going to give it to them…. But I really want to eat it later.”

AHHHH the truth of the matter, we don’t want to give away what we want.  I thought it was big of him to admit.  It wasn’t the issue of homelessness that he was struggling with.  It was giving away something that belonged to HIM.  He’d been to shelters with the youth group, he’d served meals.  But that was just his time.  It was someone else’s stuff.  Now that we were talking about HIS stuff, he was torn.  I told him that he didn’t have to give it away.  He could keep it.  That made him feel better.  So we left the restaurant.

We made it about three steps.

“Excuse me, is there any chance ya’ll could spare those leftovers?”

I turned to Bennett.  “Hand me my box”.  He handed me his box too.  He had this strange look on his face and his eyes were the biggest I’d seen them.

The man grinned and opened the boxes.  “Oh wow!  Thank you so much!  I’m going to eat great tonight!”  Then the man looked right at Bennett.  “God bless you both.”

Bennett nodded an awkward, “You’re welcome,” and we walked back to the dorm in silence.  Later I told him I was proud of him.  He brushed that off like he didn’t care.  But about 4 or 5 times over the next 24 hours he brought up the homeless man and the food.  He kept working out his questions.

“So I had half a pizza and you had half a pizza so we gave him a whole pizza, right?”

“Hey Kelly, do you think that guy shared the food with his friends?”

“Where do you think that man sleeps?”

“Do you think he really liked the pizza.  Like, do you think it made his day?”

I think there is something powerful is doing something for others while acknowledging that it’s really the last thing you want to do.  I know for some, it was just leftovers, but for Bennett it really was a treasure.  And watching someone moved to action by the suffering in the world, was the perfect way to leave seminary.

O God, we pray now for the hungry— not the spiritually hungry, not the emotionally hungry, not the psychologically hungry (though they surely need our prayers)—

we pray now simply for the hungry hungry.

We know in the realm that Jesus showed us no one goes hungry, no one lacks daily bread.

In Your Realm, those with food remember the hungry, those with food share their food with the hungry,

those with food work on behalf of the hungry, those with food weep for the hungry, even if it makes them feel guilty.

God, we are grateful you never forget about the

hungry— that you long for the hungry to be fed.

God, we are grateful you never forget about those who

aren’t hungry— that you long for them to feed the hungry.

God, the hungry and unhungry stand as one before you; loved with the same love, both in need of you and each other.

God of the Hungry, so many are hungry--- Rescue your hungry children, fill their stomachs with food and their hearts with gladness, so that they, too, might experience the luxury of dealing only with their spiritual hunger, their emotional hunger, their psychological hunger.

Send your Spirit to the hungry hungry, and to the unhungry, until all feast with Jesus in the new age.

In the name of Jesus and the hungry hungry we pray.

Amen.

(Prayer by Steve Hammond)