I couldn’t believe it; he was sat up against the cash machine. I’ve never been offended by those who ask for ‘spare change’ but this guy was actually sitting against the dispenser. I was tempted to walk around the corner to a different bank but I wasn’t going to change direction for anyone.
I approached the machine and smiled at the man. His hair hung at different lengths like an old mop. His eyes were bloodshot, with a strange expression of happiness. I assumed he must be under the influence of something illegal.
“Morning” I said quietly. Secretly I was hoping my pleasantry would mute any further conversation between the two of us. The man smiled at me as I took £20 from the annoyingly slow machine. I began to walk away when the man spoke. “After all I’ve done for you mate,” he said.
I don’t know why his remark annoyed me, but it did. In fact, it made me angry enough to stop dead in my tracks on Parliament Street. What on earth did this guy mean ‘After all I’ve done for you’?
I glanced over my shoulder with an air of nonchalance and met the man’s vacant stare. “Are you serious?” I asked him.
As there were no people around us, I thought I’d embark upon a conversation with this intriguing character. It had been a long time since I’d gone toe to toe with someone clearly in the wrong.
“It’s ok, you’ve nothing to worry about mate,” he said. Though his manner was one of peace, he may as well have been screaming at me through a microphone, because everything he said was making me wince with anger. It wasn’t the fact he had positioned himself by the cash machine. It wasn’t the fact he was overtly trying to entice people to part with their hard-earned cash. It was the fact that he was insinuating that I actually owed him something. For all he knew I might have been withdrawing cash to pay a ransom for some poor soul overseas.
“I’m not worried old friend,” I said. “However, I am interested to know what you mean.” As I stood over him like a schoolteacher approaching a kid in the naughty chair, I noticed he was clutching dirty tissues in each hand. (An obvious sign of an addiction there.)
He calmly replied: “I would stand up, but I find it uncomfortable, you can sit with me if you like.”
Incredible, in just three sentences this man offended me financially, emotionally and physically. When does anyone have the time to sit on the pavement and chat to a stranger in the middle of a working day? I’m all for social action, don’t get me wrong, but I’m also a big fan of working hard. And I’m paid to work hard.
“I’d love to sit and have a chat mate, but I’m in work at the moment. But feel free tell me what you mean by everything you’ve done for me.”
The man shuffled towards me like an injured dog. I crouched down to make myself look like I wasn’t too far above his status, which he seemed to appreciate.
“I’ve make myself available for businessmen, that’s all. Look mate, a lot of people are busy these days, I know that. But that’s why I’ve been making myself available for chats.”
I should have kept my mouth shut and walked away, but I couldn’t resist. “So you just happen to be sitting next to the busiest cash machine in York then.”
“No, this is intentional” he said.
“So why did you intend to sit here then mate?” I replied.
“Because most people are addicted to money these days, there’s always people here to chat with.”
Ok I’ll be honest; he won that round fair and square. I didn’t doubt for a second that he was simply a beggar interested solely in getting my money, but I definitely underestimated his level of eloquence.
I repositioned myself like a boxer preparing his final round of attack. I took a deeper breath than usual before responding. However, milliseconds before I unleashed my rebuttal, I saw that the tissues he was clutching in his hands were wet. On a closer inspection, I saw that it wasn’t dirt covering the rags, but blood. He’d been stabbed.
“Mate, you need a doctor, come on I’ll give you a lift to the hospital.” He smiled at me again.
“It’s not funny mate, you’re losing a lot of blood, we need to go,” I shouted.
The man looked at both his hands before using the side of the cash point to get to his feet. It seemed to take an age. He wasn’t wearing any shoes either, what a clown. Suddenly, I began to feel pangs of guilt. Moments earlier I was actually about to unleash the dogs of war on this disabled homeless man. I thought I’d cancel out my feelings of guilt by getting this guy to hospital. (That’s how my sin usually works, one good deed to erase the bad.)
He stood at about six feet tall and looked directly at me. Despite standing in severe discomfort, he still showed no signs of anxiety. He put his bloodied hand on my right shoulder, and said: “It’s ok Alex, these wounds are old. I didn’t mean any offence by what I said earlier. I just want you to know that I’m available for a chat if you’d like. Take it easy.”
He limped off with blood trailing behind him. I saw an open wound in his side and thorns in the back of his head. I looked towards where he’d been sat and saw an old sign that read: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” In the distance there were countless armies singing his name. Crowds from every tribe and nation were on their knees on the horizon. I stared at the wet the crimson path and longed for another chance to chat with my saviour.
Matthew 25:31-46
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Peace.
