The Dissonance of Inequity 7-19-14

Mayflower Hotel, Washington DC

I walked two blocks down the street to do advance photography of the venue for a wedding I’m participating in about four hours from now. I may as well have traversed two galaxies.

The ‘venue’ proves to be one of those places where upon entering I promptly lose my breath and wonder what suddenly happened to cause an explosive decompression of the atmosphere. The Cathedral of St Matthew the Apostle is variously described as one of the ten largest Catholic Churches in the world, one of the most beautiful. Crammed into a downtown location with nothing around it but narrow alleys, the exterior context gives no hint as to what beauty lies within. Its interior is opulent almost beyond conception; I was in photographic nirvana for the next ninety minutes.

After finishing my work inside I walked all the way around the cathedral, hoping to find a Bishop’s garden or some other quiet place of gentle repose. There was none, only barren asphalt, brick walls with faded graffiti, smelly dumpsters, and sheets of cardboard. I did find a very different kind of repose going on, but not one lending itself to thinking all is well in the world. On several sides of the cathedral I found grown men fast asleep on pallets of old cardboard boxes, covered up with thread bare fabrics of long-forgotten vintage. I suddenly found myself being especially quiet; tip-toeing through the bedrooms of strangers. Sleep is often the only refugee for the homeless. The last thing I want to do was take that away from them, I managed to avoid doing so.

As I walked back to my fine corner suite in the historic Mayflower Hotel, I found myself wondering intensely about inequity. How is I can be staying in a suite with a going rate of $10,000 a month, hard-wired Ethernet access, three windows looking out onto the streets of Washington power and prosperity, enjoying $20 club sandwiches, yet grown men are sleeping on old cardboard, their entire worldly goods in a few frayed plastic bags? Suddenly a wave of cognitive dissonance washed over me, amplified when walking past the Godiva chocolatier just putting out his sandwich board promoting a frequent buyer program for truffles. I will soon put on my fine Vanjulian suit and walk back over to the cathedral. I wonder if these men will still be in their sleepy refuge from reality.

Am I any better than these guys on the cardboard? Does a fine suit really make the man? Mark Twain said, “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” Is there some middle ground between naked and Vanjulian? I would like to think so.

I want to believe that in the Kingdom of God clothes don’t make the man. In fact, Jesus got in the face of those who brown-nosed the well dressed and brought them to the best seats in the house. Jesus suggested there is much greater merit in finding those inclined to sleep on cardboard and bringing them into the feast instead of the well-heeled. He went on to say getting into Heaven is an especially tough challenge for the rich.

As the crowded smelly exterior of the cathedral gave no hint of what lies within, the smelly weather beaten exteriors of those sleeping on cardboard gives no hint as to the beauty lying within these men. These men were once young children capable of laughter, dreams, hope, possibilities. I experienced great dissonance, wondering what part they may have played in their life journeys bringing them to the asphalt outside St Matthew’s Cathedral. Is it their own fault? Am I to be lauded because I sleep in a goose down cloud in the Mayflower? Nyet on both.

The inner beauty of these men has been encrusted by the barnacles of life. In my recovery work, I’m always astounded at the immense inner beauty emerging in those who find the inner spiritual strength to gain liberation from the additions and mental illness so often afflicting those on cardboard pallets. I can’t but wonder what would happen for these particular men if someone lit hope in their lives instead of votive candles inside the cathedral. I was close at one time to utter hopelessness; used cardboard could have easily become my personal reality. Another man lit the candle of Hope in me, and now I have an amazingly large life.

Life happens on life’s terms. I don’t know why I sleep in goose down clouds while some sleep on cardboard. Powerlessness about how life turns out is a hard teaching for each of us to embrace. Some of us seem to be dealt much better cards. Why? I’ve no idea.

What I do know emphatically, is I’m not powerless to show compassion to those sleeping on cardboard. There is One has already shown us what we can do about those around us who are living the darkness of hopelessness. We can freely give away that which has been freely given to us.

I think I need to dress now to be on time.

Blessings,

Craig C. Johnson


“For I know the thoughts I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘thoughts for good and not for evil, plans that will give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you.”

“Hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”