Homeless Faith

I don’t know about you, but sometimes my faith feels homeless. I know that I have faith, but making my faith a part of my every day life seems to be impossible. Having faith and making it stable in my life seems to be two completely different things.

I think the term, “Homeless Faith,” deals with Christians who have an identity in Christ (they are saved), but they lack a consistent identity as a Christ follower. Homeless faith rarely weathers storms, rarely takes them deeper in their relationship with Jesus, rarely causes them to be led by the Spirit, rarely gives security when doubt arises, seldom bears fruit, and is often a sign of a Christian who is not experiencing a life fully dedicated to God. A faith that has a home, is a faith that helps the Christian weather storms, takes them deeper in their relationship with Jesus, causes them to be lead by the Spirit, gives security when doubt arises, bears fruit, and is a sign of a Christian who is dedicated to God. You would think that cognitive exercises could give faith a home, but they only cause us to ponder our identity- not to live in it. When faith finds a home, faith exercises in hands and feet action.

My faith seems to have a hard time settling down and remaining in one place. I feel that many things shake my faith: seeing a person crying, hearing of someone’s good fortune, worrying about tomorrow, and many more emotional actions seem to direct my faith. Why is that? Why do my emotions burden my faith? Why do emotions burden our faith? Shouldn't we know better? After all, I know all the answers and I know where how to teach these answers. I know because I have faith. Sadly, we have made faith into a cognitive idea and not a "working out" practice. Because I rarely work out my faith, my faith feels homeless- like it doesn't belong in my life.

Here is a story that I think explains why our faith feels homeless:

As I sat at a comfy table, enjoying the warmth of a coffee and the safety from the rain outside, I saw Dave come into Starbucks dripping wet from the rain. I watched him sit his things down, but he walked up to the counter with all of his baggage. As I watched him, I realized Dave was just like my faith- homeless. Dave did not stir my heart to help him; the Holy Spirit opened a door for my faith to act.

I walked up to Dave, introduced myself, and told him that his coffee and pastry was on me. He told me that I did not have to do that, but I told him that I wanted to help him. Dave smiled, and accepted my offer.

Dave smelled of alcohol and body odor; he repulsed people when they came near him.

Dave was an outcast. Dave needed something warm to drink. Dave needed food to eat. Dave had many needs, but most of all, Dave needed someone to show him Christ-like love.

As I stood there in line with him and we chatted, I became an outcast like Dave. As we stood there talking, I began to smell like the alcohol on his breath. As we stood there and talked, I caught the same glares that he experienced when he entered Starbucks. As we stood there and talked, I knew my faith had found a home. Why? My faith moved from emotional and cognitive belief to hands and feet action. As I stood there and paid for his coffee, I became like him in order to show him Christ’s love.

Faith finds its home when we act on the Holy Spirit’s guidance.

As we talked about his hard life, his failures, and why I was kind to him, verses came to mind like Matthew 25:42-45, “For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’” Could I watch him shiver from being cold, have people gossip about him, and allow him to spend the few dollars he had on something he needed? The Holy Spirit told me that my faith had to act.

I did not seek to share the Gospel with him when I walked up to speak with him, but I only wanted to love Him like Jesus would have. I sought no personal gain from a man who could give me nothing. I was not checking off a spiritual disciplines’ checklist. I only had faith that my action of love could be used by God to stir Dave’s soul towards God.

Do you know what was amazing? I told him that I would be praying for him, and he asked me to pray for him in the middle of Starbucks! Dave, who came in lonely, cold, wet, and upset, had his name lifted up to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords! Dave, in turn, prayed for me, and to be quite honest, his honest and humble prayer shamed my prayer of blessing.

My faith found a home when I helped a homeless man seek a home in Heaven.

I would like to say that Dave gave his heart and life to Jesus right then and there, but he told me that he had been saved years ago. He told me that He knew Christ’s love. He told me that he trusted in God for everything. He told me that he was blessed.

You know, Dave’s faith may or may not have increased last night. Dave and I may or may not cross paths again in the future. Dave and I may never have anything else in common except a short prayer and a brief hug, but Dave helped my faith find its home and Dave felt at home for just a moment.

You know, I knew the Word of God and I cognitively believed it, but physically acting on the Word of God gave my faith a “home” last night. James 1:22-25 says, “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like.” Doing the Word, gave me more than a mirror in a room, doing the Word, gave me a home where I felt secure. 

Doing the Word gave my faith a home where it could grow and be nurtured.

As I sit here at home, writing this blog, I wonder, “Would my faith still be homeless if I had not acted on my faith for a homeless man?” I think the answer to that question is a resounding, “Yes!” Why have I allowed myself to believe things but never act on them?

I wonder, has your faith found a home, or is it still homeless? If you say that your faith is homeless, acting on your faith will give your faith a home. Do you want your faith to be homeless? No one wants anything to be homeless; act on your faith and find your home- an identity in Christ.