Our No Name Life
I have a friend who found life in Vancouver and particularly life in the UBC campus community disturbing. Her move from a country in Eastern Africa did not prepare her for just how economically segmented life can be here. It is possible to go about life in Metro Vancouver unaware of economic disparity and the impact of poverty. It’s possible to not the know the stories of people and families bearing up under the weight of scarcity. One could live in the campus setting of UBC without getting to know the poor and sharing life with them.
While one might speculate that my friend’s participation in the apparent uniformity of university life only cloaked the poor, that would belie the reality: it is possible to believe that one has no relationship with the poor or to live as if the poor do not exist or matter in any neighbourhood. But she is right, for many of us in Vancouver we live very segmented lives. Our homes and hospitality are not graced with the poor. We are not doing life “with” each other.
Yet, Jesus believes we have a relationship with the poor. He said as much in the story of Lazarus and the man with no name. Apparently the quality of our relationship with the poor reflects whether or not we have a name in Kingdom of God. Do you have a name? (Read Luke 16:19-31)
19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.
22 “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’
25 “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’
27 “He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, 28for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’
29 “Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’30 “ ‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
31 “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”
My friend — she does have a name, but in respect to her I am not calling her here — found it strange that her daily life did not obviously intersect with the poor. She was disconcerted with the fact that daily life was not shared communally across economic lines. Her disturbance has stayed with me all these years. Why aren’t more of us disconcerted too? How can we read the Bible and feast on the teachings of Jesus without being disconcerted by a no name life? How can we know Jesus the Risen Saviour and have no real passionate movement toward the poor?
This week I had two encounters with a poor man called Alex. In my heart as I pray for him, he is Alex the Great; he could be my son. The ravages of drug addiction are apparent and hunger stalks him. In our first encounter after a conversation about how he was doing, where he was staying, and how he felt about the day, I asked his name and told him mine. We chatted a bit more and then I made to leave. I was a few steps away, and praying for him, when he called out to me, “Hey what’s your name?”
Ah, that question stirred up life in me and my soul rejoiced as I answered, “My name is Craig.”
