Squatting

I'm processing.

There was a story on one of those morning news shows about squatting. Apparently there are groups who are helping the homeless move into foreclosed and government owned property. The interviewer asked a leader of one of the groups about the fairness of allowing people to live in homes they weren't paying for while their neighbors continued to pay their mortgage.

On the one hand I can see her point. Paying a morgage sucks, but Kari and I do it faithfully every month. It doesn't really seem fair that others would be able to simply skip that unpleasant part of American existence.

On the other hand, who gives a crap about fairness? We live in the most wealthy country in the world. What does it say about us as a society if we let people live on the streets while literally tens if not hundreds of thousands of houses sit empty?

Now I think squatting is less than ideal. It's illegal, for one. Which means if families who are doing it are caught, they could wind up in jail, leaving their homeless children parentless as well. The conditions aren't fantastic either. They make sure that water and electric are working, but other than that, things are pretty sparse and not necessarily clean.

The alternative is pretty sparse and unclean as well, under bridges and such.

What do I think would be ideal: the wealthy purchasing foreclosed properties out of their excess and opening them to people in need. It was Augustine who said, "Find out how much God has given you and take from it what you need; the remainder is needed by others." But that's the tough part with ideals. The ideal requires those who are best at hoarding to be generous. It requires people to be the opposite of their nature. It requires people to sacrifice for those who are, "undeserving." It requires that people love each other for no other than reason than our shared humanity and act out that love in a real, tangible way.

This leads to the inevitable question: what are you going to do about it? And here's the discomfort.

I read this book that talked about being the answer to our prayers. It wasn't talking about a God who is inactive or needs our help. It was framed in this way. Sometimes we pray to God, "Why don't you do something," and in that moment we hear a gentle voice say, "I did do something, I made you."

So I watch this thing about families needing a home and in the same breath pointing out the wealth of available housing that sits empty, and I wonder what am I supposed to do about it? I'm not wealthy and I sometimes struggle to pay my mortgage. But I am part of a community of people knitted together by shared commitment to following the leading of our creator. I think that in all the ways the church has failed, this is one in which success can be so very close.

But I'm processing.

How do I (off the charts on the introvert scale according to Meyers-Briggs) organize and mobilize a group of disconnected, yet linked people to step in and offer grace to those who are so close to us and yet so removed? There are people all over the world with less, about 5.5 billion of them. What makes the people who are homeless in our country any more deserving than any of them?

Nothing.

But that's the point. When Jesus told his disciple to change the world he didn't tell them to make a list of the most needy and prioritize their mission based on their assessment. He told them to stay where they were, start with their neighbors, and spread out from there.

Poverty is a global problem that deserves action the world over, but I'm right here in the United States. Even if I can't pay the market value for a house that's for sale, there are distressed properties that get auctioned for fractions of their market value. Maybe Christians can come together to purchase these houses, Christian who couldn't afford them on their own, but have some excess that could be pooled.

I don't know. It could work.

But it would take an act of God, moving through real people to make a real difference, through a love that has hands and feet that look like people I know.