When I was in Sunday School there was a white haired volunteer that would tower over us. He had terrifying eyes that would strike fear into our souls. Each week he lined us all up and instructed us to take out our swords, to which we would respond by holding up our Bibles in the air as if about to sprint into battle. To this day, the mental image causes a wry smile.

I start with this because the Bible is an object that is such a familiar part of my life. I read it each day and sometimes, I hold it up in the air as if ready to sprint into battle. But quite often, I have read it vacantly. I have read it without paying too much attention to the words, partly because they’re very familiar – or perhaps, the words haven’t always sunk in because they haven’t felt like they speak to me and my situation.

In his work For Self-Examination, Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard speaks of this in a similar way. Speaking to an audience that he suspects has domesticated scripture into just another ancient text, he presents an analogy of seeing scripture in a different manner. Pushing back against an overly scholarly manner of reading, he wants the role of the reader to return to the foreground. Because of this, he compares scripture to acting like a mirror which reflects at the reader their own situation, that makes them consider who they are and what they have done. Rather than scripture strictly being an ancient document to be studied, it is to be read as a love letter from a beloved, where the life of the reader is entwined in the contents.

I’ve just recently finished theological college and am having to write a number of theological reflections. Formal theological reflection involves engaging in the now canonical pastoral cycle. When speaking of the pastoral cycle, many clergy develop a glazed look over their faces as they describe the process. Sometimes a Bible story flows freely from the situation, but other times this feels forced and the pastor or practitioner has to think a bit more carefully about a verse or story that fits the context that is being confronted.

Whilst I was working with those facing homelessness I was presented with lots of material which required processing. I won’t pretend that doing it this way is easy, but it manifested itself in a different way. Usually, theological reflection is done in retrospect. It’s done whilst thinking about what exists in Christian tradition that can relate to what has already occurred. I was struck because the experiences that I had faced crept into the stories that I was reading in Christian tradition, or gave a strong feel to the stories that I was reading – even if I would rather they did not.

I was working at a drop-in centre where most of the conversations would be around the dinner table chatting about the usual things, but mostly frustrations and football. On occasion these routine conversations were interrupted by speculations about the lives of certain individuals that were absent. There would be rumours flying about them being sent to prison or worse. Quite often the aforementioned person would turn up at the drop-in causing all previous rumours to be confirmed as they were strongly expected to be: entirely baseless. There was one attendee that I had met a number of times previously from a completely different setting. We had gotten to know each other over time and had a good rapport. One day at the dinner table the rumour mill was turning about him, speculating on his whereabouts; some of the guys seemed increasingly concerned and upset at this speculation. As always, it was never based on any first hand accounts, but on the hearsay derived from others. 

Sadly, however, in the week that followed, a newspaper report descriptively confirmed the condition in which he had been found by the police. It was grim and very saddening. A few months had passed and I found myself re-reading John 20:19. The experience of being around the dinner table with the others as we heard that news forced me to pause my reading. I felt choked up as I was reading it because I suddenly realised I had experienced that initial shock the disciples must have felt in that scene. Locked away together, feeling fearful, possibly guilty for abandoning Jesus, and distressed by the news that was being handed to them. Reading it made me think about the scene in a much more involved way that I think I have ever felt during a theological reflection, as it acted as a mirror, grabbing my attention and imagination. It stirred a feeling in me that I would never have experienced in a quick reading of that passage.

At times, it seems easier to cast ourselves into a scene of narrative in the Bible through our experiences. But what about in the epistles? A group of people I knew were reading Romans 6 together. As the discussion unfolded, it was agreed that sin was a lot of fun. It wasn’t fun in and of itself, though. It was reflected that doing something ‘sinful’ was accompanied by side-effects that added to the enjoyment and made it worthwhile. Excessive drinking was joined with a feeling of companionship with drinking partners, a shot of heroin gave the feeling of a peaceful bliss. A behaviour trait would be followed by this pleasant feeling, drawing the person back to repeating the initial behaviour trait. 

It was interesting because hearing about it with these reflections in mind, forced me to reread Romans 6:7-12 in a fresh light. I was suddenly more appreciative of how Jesus is said to interrupt behaviour traits that are displayed through an individual’s choices, and provide an alternative – a new life in Christ. It was the sort of observation that would be lacking in almost all other contexts. I sat there and pondered about my own habits and their causes. Why do I enjoy it when I sin? What do I then expect to be the result when I succumb to temptation? I dwelled on the habits that I saw around me in the lives of others. And then my focus turned to ask if the life that Christ offers could satisfy the sources of craving pangs that we sometimes feel. Could I find companionship or peace in the life that Christ is said to provide in Romans 6:8? I had read this passage so many times previously but it was being cast into a completely new light, where God is not just calling us to repent but offers a life in Christ which also fulfils the needs at the root of our bad habits.

There are obviously countless other ways that God can speak to us through our conversations and experiences with those that are facing vulnerable housing situations. Reading scripture from the experience of working with those facing homelessness, provided a different angle for scripture to reflect as a mirror; penetrating my soul and causing new questions to arise. Working with those facing homelessness gives scripture the chance to speak in fresh and profound new ways in our lives, illuminating homelessness as demonstrated in the Bible as a grave injustice and societal failure. In spending time with those on the margins, we face the potential to see a pedagogical shift occurring. Rather than it being a catechism class, we have the opportunity to hear what God is saying through these people. I am certain that such steps may involve a willingness for us to acknowledge the power relations at work, and also be willing to give them up, which can be a tremendously daunting task. Luke’s gospel seems to be a constant reminder to me, that the kingdom of God breaking into the world often occurred through the least powerful,from those with the lowest level of religious education and upbringing. The gospel seems to cry out to us to remind us to listen to what God is saying through those on the margins.

The only questions left to ask are, “Can we hear the voices of those facing homelessness? And if not, why not?”