Skid Row

On Friday morning, 9 people from our team (required to be 17 and older) got the go ahead to visit "Skid Row" in downtown LA. This is an area of 12 city blocks that is "home" to about 1,000 homeless people per block. As we drove past in our vans to park, it was incredible to see every single sidewalk full of people. Some were sleeping on mats, others pushing carts, and others still standing "innocently."

We pulled over and as we were receiving our simple instructions (to invite each person to a free meal at 1:30 pm)a man decided it was time to impart some wisdom. He told us how he was a product of Skid Row, how he had grown up there and the streets made him who he was, and how he could smell the "Hills" (Beverly Hills) on everyone of us "rich white folk." The tension was high enough without this guy stirring us up, but that didn't help. Some of the kids (and leaders) were afraid, so we took time to pray and ask God for courage and protection.

As we walked the streets, I saw things that I know will never be erased from my memory. After speaking with one man, I was walking to catch up with the group when a guy stumbled around the corner. I was a bit startled, but as I went to invite him to the meal I noticed his eyes rolled back in his head and a band tied around his upper arm. He had just finished shooting up in the alley. I tried to start a coherent conversation with him, but he was not following. We passed a few more blocks when I stopped to talk with 2 more guys. They were surprisingly friendly as I made conversation, and when I had finished (about to ask them if I could pray with them since they were so nice) speaking both started to reach into their pockets. One pulled out a large wad of cash, the other a small baggie filled with white powder. I was 2 feet from them and in broad daylight, but there was no shame on their part, it was simply a part of every day life.

Then we stopped by San Julian Park. I had only seen places like this in the movies. There were probably a hundred people inside, groups of 10-15 spread out around covered tables with their music blasting from old school boom boxes. I decided to approach one table and apologize for interrupting. The conversation went something like this-

Me: "Hey, sorry to interrupt, how's it going?"
Guy: "You don't care."
Me: "Oh, I'm sorry...I just wanted to tell you we are serving a free meal..."
Guy: "Good for you."
Me: "Well, it's at 1:30 at the V.O.A..."
Guy: "Shut up."
Me: "Yes sir, well I hope to see..."
Guy: "I said SHUTUP!"

Needless to say, I shut up. I wasn't sure what it was that set him off. Maybe it was my tone, or the fact that I was interrupting. Maybe it was the fact that I was white and he thought I had no business interrupting his day. I could feel the bitterness, anger, and hatred coming from his soul.

A few blocks from there a large camper sat on the side of the street that had a bucket inside. Junkies could come drop off dirty needles and exchange them for clean ones. It was like the city had given up, saying, "Well, we can't stop them from shooting up, so we might as well keep them from getting AIDS while they do it."

I had never seen anything like Skid Row. So many people hurting, broken, desperate, and lost...and they don't want any help. Years and years of neglect have left some angry at the world; and others searching for a way out. Stepping out of the car you could feel the weight of the place you had entered. You could feel the oppression, and you could sense the hopelessness. Somehow, seeing through the anger and desperation and the high most were riding, I saw something unexpected. I saw people. There were souls in there. Some maybe hidden deeper than others, but there were real, genuine people who were made in the image of God! There were people who had never known love, who had never seen the beautiful feet mentioned in Romans 10. Sin had hidden the message from them for so long, and we tried to bring it through food.

I left unsure of what to feel. I wanted so badly to do more. All of us wanted to rush out of our van and weep, crying out to them, "It doesn't have to be this way! There is another life, a better life! There is hope and infinite joy! It's not just Chinese food we were inviting you too!"

It left me thinking this- No place on this earth is God-forsaken. No matter how dark and lost a place is, God is there. But as I looked around and saw the misery all I could think was what hell must be like. Similar in a place of torment and hopelessness, but there is no sunshine that brings light in the morning. There is no free meal on Friday afternoon to fill your belly. There is merely the tragedy of dead souls who never knew the life that was at stake. And as the thought hit me I could not help but think I will not be a part of people going to hell! If sinners go then I will do all that is in my power to stop them! I will beg and plead and weep with them to find Christ in their lives so that they must not experience hell! They mustn't go to a place worse than what I had seen! God give me beautiful feet to bring that message.

C.H. Spurgeon once said, "If sinners will be damned, at least let them leap to hell over our bodies. And if they will perish, let them perish with our arms around their knees, imploring them to stay. If hell must be filled, at least let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go there unwarned and unprayed for."

Make it so, Sweet Lord. Precious Jesus, please let the people of Skid Row see that "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned."