THE PARISH CHURCH FOR LYTHAM

Last Updated 19/05/2008 22:34:12

Am I My Brother's Keeper?

It was good to meet him for the first time. And to begin with he was a welcome guest. He was gentle and never demanding in his requests. We readily supplied hot water and cups of tea whenever asked. Sleeping accommodation was arranged. And whenever you met him, he always had a smile and a reassuring word for you. But over the weeks, he began to get in the way.

‘Angus’ (not his real name) slept in the church porch over the summer months. The deal was that he didn’t make a mess and he kept his word. (After all, what is a church if it cannot offer some kind of hospitality to those who have no home?)  He didn’t appear to have any money but ate well from what was thrown out from the restaurants in town. A well-built man, he had a physical presence which to some could be intimidating particularly when he adopted the churchyard as his garden at awkward and inconvenient times. The last straw, I suppose, was when Angus used the bench by the area set aside for the burial of cremated remains for sunbathing. It wasn’t appropriate. You began to wonder where he would pop up next.

Angus was nothing but polite and well-meaning. But he was an untidy and unpredictable presence in a well-ordered and stable environment. We heaved a sigh of relief when he told us he had decided to return to the south. He packed his rucksack one last time, came and shook my hand and said goodbye and thanks for all we had done for him.

It was only after he had gone that I came to know that Angus was not homeless after all. In fact, he has a house in Devon and had decided to leave because his wife had rung him to say it was time he went home.

Well, what should we make of this? Some might feel cross that he stayed in our churchyard at all. Others might object to him scrounging a free holiday by the sea at our expense and inconvenience. He was strong and fit. Why didn’t he have a job to support his wife and maintain his house? Why on earth walk and hitch all this way and eat of the scraps that fall from the tables of those who have earned the right to feast out in Lytham when he could have stayed in his own home? Why sleep in the church porch – although it’s a view to die for – when he could have slept at home?

And who is Angus? Is he an irresponsible scrounger who lives like a parasite off others and refuses to own up to his responsibilities at home? Is he a self-made multi-millionaire who from time to time likes to bring himself down to earth and recall what life was like before he made his fortune? Or is he an author researching a book on living in the churchyards of England - a sort of Michelin Guide to churchyard porches and benches and nearby restaurant bins? Or is he an ex-serviceman who with mind misshaped by action in Iraq and Afghanistan, needs from time to time to get away and wander on his own. With only the clothes he wears to protect him and the contents of his rucksack to comfort him, he searches for the kindness and goodwill of strangers to restore his belief in humanity and maybe even God?

We do not know the answer to these questions and it is probably none of our business to ask. It is up to Angus to tell us about himself as and when he wants to. All I know is that he came and asked for help and hospitality and we tried our best to respond. He didn’t threaten anyone or damage anything but he didn’t play by our rules all the time and so became a bit of a nuisance. Our tolerance thresholds did not cope well when we saw Angus’ washing laid out on the church wall to dry.

Christians are encouraged to show warm and generous hospitality to strangers and to understand that by doing so they can learn something powerful about themselves and God. ‘Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it,’[i] we are told. In the visible absence of any wings or halo, should we be right to assume that Angus does not fall into this category? However, the word ‘angel’ means ‘messenger’ so anyone who brings us a message from God might in this sense be called an angel. So what message, if any, did Angus bring us from God?

St Anthony – often referred to as the founder of monasticism – once said, ‘Our life and our death are with our neighbour. If we are to do good to our neighbour, we do good to God; if we cause our neighbours to stumble, we sin against them.’ It is a sobering thought that my salvation is not about making a private deal with God about my long-term future. For if we take St Anthony at his word, our salvation seems to depend not only how we are with ourselves but also upon how we are with others. Didn’t Jesus also say that we should not separate our love of God from the way we are with other people? [ii]

Could it really be that we are responsible for – play a major part in – not only our own salvation – our life and death - but also the salvation of others? We cannot work out our own by ourselves. And other people cannot work out their salvation without us. So it is no good saying, ‘It’s his problem’ and leaving it at that. To some degree, we need to take ‘his’ or ‘her’ problem on ourselves to help them. For we are called not only to be reconciled with others when we have a problem with them but also to go to others who have a problem with us and help them sort it out. [iii]

So what can I learn from Angus? Well, he has made me think about my relationships and the need to see my faith not simply as something that works for me and God. For faith is also about having faith in others, even in the most unlikely circumstances. And while we have had to deal robustly with several other folk who have asked us for hospitality but were both unreasonable and irresponsible from the start, I would like to think that we will always try to help those who are in genuine need.

My abiding memory of Angus is his gratitude for life itself. He had an extraordinary appreciation for the gift of every day and the need to live life a day at a time, wherever possible. His presence in my life for a while, makes me wonder whether daily we are surrounded by ‘angels’ who are sent to teach us about God and bring about our salvation? If only we could be more aware of them. For it seems as if we are given each other’s prayerful company in order to fulfil our destiny. For we hold the secret of others’ salvation in our hearts and lives as well as our own.

The mark of Cain was a sign for all humanity to remember that we should never take the lives of others – not least those of our relatives - for granted because we think we have more rights than they to life and the favour of God.[iv] We need each other too much to make this kind of mistake.

Thanks, Angus.

Andrew Clitherow.