Yesterday I was reading at the White Hart when a homeless man sat down a few tables away from me.  He sat at the table, staring almost blankly ahead, a cup of coffee in front of him on the table. Occassionally he brought the mug to his lips, spilling coffee all over the table as he set it back down. 

As in other situations like this, I had conflicting thoughts:  On the one hand, I was thankful that Ed graciously provides coffee to this man, even though he is certainly a deterrent to business.  But on the other hand, I worried about my own convenience. I thought things like:
He probably smells.
I hope he doesn’t talk to me.
and I wonder how long he’ll be here.

It was not long before I became aware that the whole room was beginning to smell terribly.  I looked around for obvious suspects.  Could it be the fish the woman across from me was eating?  Could it be the pages of the old book I was reading?  Could it be a mixture of the twain? No, that couldn’t be it. It was the silent, coffee drinking man a couple of tables away. 

I held my ground. I continued to sit, trying my best ignore him and the smell. I paid extra attention to my book.

After about 5 minutes, the smell became unbearable. I decided to abandon my post.  I began packing up my belongings. As I did so, I noticed that the man sitting between me and the homeless man–a professor in the engineering school at Liberty–got up and went to the counter. I saw him talking with the barista.  I thought to myself he must be asking if something can be done about the stench.

I continued to get my things together as quickly as I could without looking like I was running from a fire.  As I finished and walked towards the door, the professor came back. He walked up to the homeless man who was encouraging my exit and said…

“If you would like to eat something,  go order something up front. I’ve taken care of it.”

As I walked out, I felt very convicted.  Both of us had experienced the same smell…he moreso than I by simple proximity, and we had both chosen our response.  I had chosen to run. He had chosen to show love.  Just like Jesus did and would have. 

“Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.”
- Jesus, Matthew 25:40b