The Other Side of Veteran's Day
Veteran’s Day was earlier this week, and like many churches we observed it by recognizing the veterans in our congregation during Sunday’s services. We asked them to stand then prayed over them, thanking God for their service to the nation. Since my church includes many veterans, it was an honor for us to honor them.
But there’s another side of ministry to veterans.
I saw the other side a while back when I was invited to speak at a worship service at a local shelter for homeless veterans. We met in the facility’s cafeteria, with the forty or so male residents sitting singly or in small groups around the tables. Most were African-American and looked to be between thirty and fifty years of age. My host told me that they were living in the shelter for a variety of reasons—some had lost their jobs and homes, others had gone through a divorce and had no place to go, a few were in the shelter because of substance abuse, one or two recently had been released from prison. All of them appeared lost and confused, like they’d been set down there without knowing why.
The men in the shelter are part of a much larger problem, a problem that persists despite the best efforts of the Veteran’s Administration, HUD and other government agencies and private non-profits. Many veterans today are homeless and have little hope of ever living a more stable life.
The lastest statistics on homeless veterans are sobering:
Veterans are 50% more likely to become homeless than other Americans due to poverty, lack of support networks, and dismal living conditions in overcrowded or substandard housing.
About 1.5 million veterans are considered at-risk of homelessness. At risk is defined as being below the poverty level and paying more than 50% of household income on rent. It also includes households with a member who has a disability, a person living alone, and those who are not in the labor force.
Research shows that the greatest risk factors for homelessness are lack of support and social isolation after discharge. Veterans have low marriage rates and high divorce rates; and, currently, 1 in 5 veterans is living alone. Social networks are particularly important for those who have a crisis or need temporary help. Without this assistance, they are at high risk for homelessness.
Nearly half a million (467,877) veterans are severely rent burdened and paying more than 50% of their income for rent. More than half (55%) of veterans with severe housing cost burden fell below the poverty level and 43% receive food stamps.
The men in the cafeteria seemed interested in what I had to say. I could sense a growing interest the further into the Bible passage we went, to the point that when I finished my message I didn’t think the service was complete. I felt that just teaching the residents the Bible wasn’t enough. They needed an additional touch.
So we closed the service by inviting anyone who wanted to be prayed over to remain in the room as the others left. One of the volunteer ministry leaders and I would pray over each one, we said. As the larger group left maybe ten stayed and lined up in order to be prayed over.
I didn’t know any of them before that night, but it didn’t matter. We were all there by divine appointment and as the men stepped up one by one to share their needs, my prayer partner and I were given the exact words to say in response. It felt as though we had a special favor as our prayers seemed to connect with each man’s circumstances. The cafeteria’s harsh smell of commercial disinfectant gave way to the sweet scent of the Holy Spirit.
One resident in particular stuck in my mind. He was about my age and the story he told me was convoluted and painful. But something about him stirred my heart, so I put my hand on his head and was able to speak more personally to him, to the point where he leaned into me and we both began to weep. I don’t remember what I said, but I believe whatever words I spoke were what he needed to hear.
After we prayed over all the men who were there, we said goodbye and went home. Since then I’ve been going over in my mind what happened. I’ve been in many such services but something about this one was different. Maybe it was veteran connection—that’s a personal thing for me because both my children serve in the military. Maybe it was the obvious spiritual hunger of the group as a whole. Maybe it was simply the way the Lord showed up so unexpectedly—for the men who live in the shelter as well as for those of us who led the service.
More likely, I think, what made the service unique was the quality of the veterans who were there. Without public recognition of their service to the nation, without the financial security that many other veterans enjoy, separated from loved ones in most cases because of different levels of addiction, they had nothing and nobody. They reminded me of Bob Dylan’s “Shelter from the Storm,” and its haunting lyric about “old men with broken teeth stranded without love.”
People on the margins of life—the poor, the dispossessed, the broken—often have a firmer grasp on grace than people from more stable backgrounds. They make it easy to teach because they’re so spiritually hungry that they hang on to every word of the Bible in a way that’s often absent in mainstream churches. They also make it hard to forget that God has a way of showing up for those who need him most.
That’s the truth that the Apostle Paul is getting at in his opening remarks to the church at Corinth:
For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to wordly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and dispised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. (1 Corinthians 1:26-29)
Here are a few takeaways for local churches from my evening on the other side of Veteran’s Day:
Authentic worship is more a function of desperation than of organization. Those forty men had few of the comforts and advantages of most churches, but what they did have was a desperate hunger for the Lord. That’s why their worship felt authentic.
God’s Spirit and God’s Word work in tandem. Without the Holy Spirit, the Word is dry and lifeless. But when the Holy Spirit is welcomed into the teaching of the Word, it becomes powerful and life-giving. Churches that flourish find a way to be as inviting to the Holy Spirit as they are to the Word of God.
Teaching that’s only a lecture on the Bible without giving opportunity for the Holy Spirit to work in peoples’ lives isn’t complete. We need in our churches to allow time and space for the free movement of God’s Spirit to minister to the kinds of real needs of the people in our churches.
We need to be personal with people in worship. In addition to listening, singing and talking, our worship services should be occasions when we also touch, listen, pray, laugh and weep.
Ministry to hurting and needy people who have nothing to offer but themselves is essential to the church’s mission. We’re commanded to take the gospel and minister to the needs of people everywhere. When everywhere includes the homeless veterans living in our own community, we have a special responsibility.