Not long ago an event occurred in Lumberton which did not receive much attention. It was an event that barely causes most of us to even pause. For in a world where we are literally bombarded with horrific stories of violence and chaos, in an environment where we cannot escape spectacular stories concerning the death of royalty, there is simply no shock value in learning that the broken body of a 52 year old alcoholic was found in an abandoned car. In a world of shattered communities, tribalism, and individualism, who cares if one tired and damaged drug abuser dies alone? After all, even if we had felt some connection to him, what could we do? Even his family could not seem to help him.

Yet, for us at the Robeson County Church and Community Center, it was a time of reflective pause. For the man was no stranger to us. You see, Harry had shuffled through our parking lot on several occasions, seeking a shirt or a pair of shoes. Often, I would discover him looking into the clothes bin or, when we had our clothes drop on our porch, sifting through clothes bags. On those occasions, I would tell him that he could not just take things, and I would invite him inside. He would rarely come in. Harry did not trust me much and mentally, he seemed to have lost his ability for rational thought. Alcoholism and drug addiction destroys completely.

Harry did not have many friends. He was homeless, dirty, smelly, and would only mumble when one tried to speak with him. Not many trusted him, and he had no reason to trust anyone else. When Harry died, he died forgotten, much the way he lived. He died looking much older than his 52 years. He died broken. He died alone.

I would be overwhelmed by this story except for the promise of a child. A child born into poverty, far from home. A child born in a place of animals, surrounded by the sights, sounds, and stench of livestock. I would be overcome with grief and hopelessness except for this child who was born to die. This child, who would grow to be a man and who would also die alone; betrayed, abandoned, and broken. This child, who was, is, and will always be — Immanuel — God with us. This child who … lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said: “Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you that hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you that weep now, for you shall laugh.” (Luke 6:20-21) Merry Christmas, Harry, you’re home now. Merry Christmas, everybody.

Peace and Grace,

Steve