Hebrews 11:13-16

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country. And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned. But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city.

We’re all homeless.

We’re strangers and pilgrims here.

We seek a country, a better country.

We want that country, that home God has prepared for us.

Here’s one to ponder: you can feel homeless in your own home.

We want to be loved, accepted, welcomed home.

Robert Frost, Pulitzer Prize winning poet, wrote, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

That quote always gave me pause. Do I want to go home to a place where they HAVE to take me in?

I think I’d like to go home to a place where I’m welcomed, where they’re glad to see me coming. Where all my friends and loved ones run to hug and kiss me and tell me they’re glad I’m home.

Yep, that’s the home I want.

I have a complicated relationship with the urban homeless I encounter on an almost daily basis in Atlanta. Sometimes I try to help them. Sometimes I give them money knowing they’re probably just going to use it to buy alcohol or drugs. Sometimes I give them something to eat or take them to a nearby restaurant and pay for their meal. Sometimes I resent them, because they make feel guilty as I ignore them and pass by them without a word. Sometimes I compare myself to them and think I’m better than they are.

I do believe it’s my Christian duty and privilege to help those in need, not just pass them by with a “be ye warm and filled” attitude or sentiment. But I don’t do it.

Didn’t Jesus teach us in Matthew 25 to feed and clothe those in need and to visit them in prison. I don’t remember any conditions He put on those commandments.

He didn’t say: now, you make a judgement first. If you think they’re worthy, give them drink and food and visit them in prison. But, if you think they’re not worthy of your help, or if they’ve done something really bad, then just go ahead and ignore them and pass them by.

Nope, I don’t recall any conditions Jesus put on us helping any of the least of His brothers and sisters.

The fact is, though, that we’re all homeless. This world is not our home.

None of us is worthy. But that didn’t stop Jesus. He didn’t pass us by. He loved us anyway.

I recently watched a movie “Same Kind of Different as Me” based on a true story about a rich art dealer named Ron who befriends an angry, violent, homeless man named Denver.

Denver carries a baseball bat around with him and takes his anger out on anything that gets in his way, including the glass windows at the homeless mission where he gets his meals.

Ron has gotten himself caught up in an affair, but he wants to save his marriage and part of the deal with his wife Debbie is that he works with her at the homeless mission house. He’s not happy with this part of the deal, but he does it anyway, because he loves his wife.

Before she even meets him, Debbie has a dream about Denver leading her down a road. She makes it her mission to make friends with him, even though he wants “nothing to do with nobody.”

After Debbie tries for a long while to befriend him, Denver finally opens up a little to her unfeigned love. And Debbie nudges a reluctant Ron into a tentative friendship with him, too.

There are some other important subplots that make the movie a sad but hopeful story.

But the real story is the story of a homeless man named Denver who leads Debbie and Ron down a path to the home they all long for. A heavenly country of love for each other here in this world and then ultimately in a real heavenly home.

A home where they are all loved and accepted as imperfect humans, by each other, without condition.

The same kind of different.

This is the love of God. He loves us through His grace, despite our sin, our imperfections, the awful things we’ve done.

He wants us to show that same love without condition to others.

How do we get there? First, we have to realize that everybody is the same different as us. We’re no better than anyone else. When we really believe this, it allows us to help and love others without resentment, without judgement, without condemnation. You can’t get to that point by comparing yourself to others. No way.

And you can’t get to that home by thinking that they HAVE to take you in. You get there with a humble, thankful heart that they’ll take you in and love you, just because they love you.

So, if you want to curl up at home with your sweetie for Valentine’s Day and watch a love story, check out “Same Kind of Different as Me.” It’s a true love story.

May God Bless you all.