I was sitting in LOVE park in Philadelphia last night, enjoying the warm air, and as I usually do, I was watching what was happening around me. The many different colored lights were mesmerizing, flashing in what seemed to be an integrated pattern. All around me there were people sitting, often alone, with bags and backpacks and take-out food, preparing to hunker down at one of the tables. They kept to themselves, occasionally speaking to someone passing by who they seemed to know. A lone skateboard rider rolled by, trying to stay upright. A group of teenagers sat nearby, debating whether or not they should stay there. It seems they had been thrown out of another park the previous night. They were quiet and respectful, telling each other about their day. Well-dressed businesspeople hurried by, afraid they might be accosted by those of us who were just sitting there. Their discomfort was palpable. Sirens were abundant; too many people seeming to get in trouble with the police or getting injured somewhere nearby. Being a first responder is hard work.
There are a lot of people sleeping on sidewalks and alleys and empty buildings in cities like Philadelphia and Reading, and there is really no reason for this to be happening. Sure, some of them are in need of mental health assistance, but most of the homeless people I have dealt with over the years are in those situations because they have fallen on hard times. Someone got sick or lost a job or died. Something went terribly wrong, and they couldn’t get through it. There are plenty of empty buildings and resources to help people through those hard times, but we just can’t seem to find the will to make that work. The rich get richer, often on the backs of the poor and middle-class, and the systems of capitalism aren’t made for kindness. We could fix this, but we don’t. Why not?
One of my colleagues told a story the other night about how, as a brown-skinned person, he froze every time he saw police lights go on. That group of kids I mentioned were all people of color, concerned about being harassed. I know a lot of police officers, and they are overwhelmingly good people. It is the system that creates division and they, like so many, are caught in it too. It never crossed my mind to be afraid, as I sat there in my white, male, straight, privileged bubble. We could fix that, but we don’t; instead, most people like me deny it exists. And I – we – keep on benefitting while others get weighed down, oppressed by systems that really don’t care about them. We could fix these things, but we don’t. And that should concern us all.
Prayer – Help us, God, to fix what is broken. People matter too much to be ignored. Amen.
Today’s art is part of a mural by Mexican artist Jorge Gonzalez Camarena in Pittsburgh.