Serpents and Doves at a Brazilian Food Court

We never tell the dentist this, but we often get ice cream right after our kids have their checkups. It’s like a family rule. We’re already parked at the place that has the good ice cream, so why not just get some. Besides, it’s the afternoon, which is the perfect time for some ice cream.

As Monica, Olivia, and I were enjoying our ice cream we were interrupted by a man at the food court. This can happen quite a bit where we live. Sometimes people sell little trinkets or candy for money. Other times they have a story to tell in hopes to get a donation for a cause.

This man had a story. He even had a folder. But as soon as he started talking I interrupted him and asked him to please talk to other people. He went away, but not out of my view. He found an empty table to sit at alone. He took some deep breaths, lowered his head, and fought back tears. Then about a minute later he got back up and went to another table.

Jesus tells us to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves, but my serpent side comes out in this city more often than I care to admit. I rarely have much Brazilian money on me, so I often don’t give it out to people I encounter. But I am faced with a 50/50 chance of being asked for something at every stoplight that turns red. And for the better part of three years the closest neighbor to my bedroom has been sleeping on top of a staircase. Then there’s the people who approach me at a food court when the only thing on my mind is enjoying some ice cream with my daughters. In these moments it’s easy for me not to see the people asking me for things as people, but only as distractions. 

And yet I couldn’t stop staring at this man, hunched over at his empty table. I didn’t bother to even try to hear his story. I simply didn’t care. And then I wondered what his reaction would be were he to walk into a church building some Sunday and see me there in the pews, or worse yet see that I am the one teaching or preaching from a stage. When Paul talks about stumbling blocks it’s easy to point fingers at other people, but I know I can be one too. That I have been one.

I wish I were a dove more of the time, known as someone who is not just harmless, but generous. Almsgiving to the poor is a rather standard part of many religions. And there’s lots of motivations behind it. Over time the Hebrew word for righteousness or justice became associated with almsgiving. At first glance this might just look like another example Jesus could have used during his Sermon on the Mount. Don’t give alms like the hypocrites do, wanting to appear righteous only to justify themselves. But the journey of meaning of the word for justice and righteousness to giving alms actually goes the other way around.

Righteousness and justice have to do with the proper order of things, and God revealed in the Hebrew Bible that this order is his order – where the poor are not exploited, where the widow and orphan are not forgotten, and where the foreigner is not oppressed. His kingdom will one day reflect all that as prophecies talk about people getting food for no cost and everyone enjoying peace and rest in their own space. The motivation to give alms was not self-righteousness, but recognizing that this small sign and foretaste is a way of letting God’s order of things break in now, today to those who need to hear its good news most. When I pretend to ignore or deny all the requests I face for help I only seem to enforce the order of this world as it is, and not as God wants it to be. I walk by the person with no shoes in the freezing cold. I discourage the person so desperate to ask perfect strangers for money. I drive by the man holding the sign for my help.

I once read about a firehouse chaplain in New York who died in the rubble of the World Trade Center. Like me, he was often around really rich and really poor people. He’d often ask his rich acquaintances if they had any spare $5s or $1s that could be “freed” from them, meaning he’d take them and give them to the poor and needy. Maybe those freed bills made a difference in the long run. Maybe not. My serpent side often wants to justify my own inaction.

As God’s people we are a sign and foretaste of his kingdom, and our mission is to proclaim the good news of this kingdom. And we have so many opportunities to show our fallen world what God’s order, what literal righteousness, looks like. We can practice it. We can share it. We can even live it. 

Yes, we can still be wise as those serpents Jesus describes. But I know I have to be careful. Were I to err on one side or the other, I’d rather this world see the harmless dove. I’d rather that this man from the food court had seen me that afternoon as his ally, or at least as one who cared enough to listen to him.

There’s a saying that people won’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. While that’s partially true, what matters more is how you make people feel. I know exactly how I made that man feel. I could see it. And I didn’t like what I saw.

But there’s always next time. After all, the dentist said it was now my turn to have a checkup.