Trust is Risky

by James Mercer

Eddie was absolutely down on his luck, sleeping rough on the unaccommodating suburban streets of Harrow. A bizarre place for Eddie to be - a shepherd by trade, from Northern Ireland. Out of place; alone; without hope - rendered jobless and penniless, first by foot and mouth disease and then deepening recession. Alcohol too, had subsequently taken its toll. He was ignored, bypassed, avoided - a statistic denied by the local council. Invisible to the unseeing, preoccupied, disinterested crowd.

And then a risk.

An invitation to lunch. Sunday lunch. Lunch in a suburban Harrow house. No questions asked. No do’s, no don’ts’. An invitation, without condition, to a family meal. The pre-meal grace, offered by a young girl, spoke words of thanksgiving, embracing Eddie with implicit trust and unqualified acceptance. The family, collectively offering unequivocal welcome - an expression of mutual trust, mutual faith and shared risk.

Eddie arrived in church. He was no longer homeless. He was recovering from the ravage of alcohol abuse. He had an absolute passion, a passion to see every homeless person within Harrow accepted, unequivocally welcomed, fed and housed. A passion to see risk embraced and trust extended.

Eddie addressed the church, a risky challenge in and of itself. For Eddie, a task without precedent. Eddie read from Isaiah Chapter 58:

Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the Lord shall be your rearguard.”

He told his story of rescue and trust and risk. There was not a dry eye in the church.A dropped pin would have been audible.

But then a terrifying realisation. This was not merely a Sunday exegesis, words that might echo for a moment and then fade with the susurrus of passing traffic, as suburban doors close against the world and the ordinary routines of life impose their unacknowledged censor. Eddie trusted us. Eddie had implicit faith that we would not merely be moved by an uplifting story, but roused to act. Provoked indeed, to trust in the integrity and riskiness of the scriptures, through which we sought to explore and articulate our faith, our raison d’être.

Eddie took the risk of trusting that a people who expressed  a desire to serve the community of which they are an integral part, would actually be in the business of challenging injustice, practically, materially, sacrificially. Eddie had absolute, guileless faith that we would. Otherwise, why were we here? Why was he here?

Such trust is appallingly precarious. Such faith is profoundly disturbing - it discomforts, it unsettles, it is inconvenient - it demands response.

Eighteen months on, the Harrow Winter Night Shelter project is in its second year, offering food, friendship, shelter and advice to homeless men in North West London. Eddie’s trust was a catalyst that empowered churches within Harrow to work together and to deliver on the generously risky venture of offering unqualified acceptance and unequivocal welcome to the invisible homeless of Harrow.

Eddie had an implicit trust. Eddie had faith. Faith that might best be spelt

R I S K.

Is that the type of faith the Good Shepherd has in us?

James Mercer is the Vicar of All Saints’, Harrow Weald

Discuss this Article on the Fulcrum Forum

Forum Posts About This Article:

Add your comments on the Fulcrum Forum