This past week, I had the honor of speaking at a memorial service for a man named Jim Wilson.  By some people’s descriptions, they would say Jim was the homeless man who hung around East Sacramento and River Park neighborhood, but he was so much more.  He had a way of bringing people into his life, showing them his heart, and they genuinely wanted to help him.  At his service, there were perhaps 12 of us. I was blown away by this small group of people, who rallied around Jim over the past ten years.  They opened up their home to him, and gave him rides.  They invited Jim to family meals, events, and weddings.  They let him pitch his tent in their living room when Jim wouldn’t take one of their bedrooms. They fed him and his dog, and made him coffee at church. They played cribbage and cards with him. One woman, named Meitra, was a force of nature for Jim.  She advocated for him with doctors, nurses, and hospitals, city council, and homeless shelters.  She drove him regularly two hours to San Francisco when he was undergoing treatment for throat cancer.  It was all largely unseen and unknown.  A small group of people living in different neighborhoods, all rallying around Jim, sacrificing their time, space, and finances to help. 

I got to know Jim as a man without a home, who came around our church.  Sometimes he needed a ride, sometimes he needed something to eat. He was a proud man, often reluctant to accept help, but humbled by his mistakes and regrets.  There was no filter with Jim, and no pretentiousness.  He was a refreshing presence around our community. 

The picture above was his bike, parked at our Easter sunrise service on the American River in 2017.  Over time, Jim began to attend worship with us.  Then, as our church partnered with others to build two tiny homes in our parking lot, Jim came to help.  We talked to Jim about how these tiny homes would go to people like him.  Jim initially was too proud to accept such a gift.  Then he insisted on working on these homes if he was going to benefit from them.  There was this wonderful camaraderie with the team of people from our church that we’re building these homes, giving up their afternoons, evenings, and Saturdays.  He ended up living in one of the tiny homes he helped build for some time, until his diagnosis with cancer.  

I share this story about Jim because he affected me profoundly. I’ve gotten to know two homeless people fairly well in my life of ministry leadership.  They have taught me much through their stories about our world, humanity, broken systems, and the complexity of homelessness. But I also share Jim’s story because pastors walk with people in great need often. We are introduced to people, our hearts long to help, but we have limited resources.  And, as the family of friends at Jim’s service reminded me, not only are pastors walking with people like Jim, but so are our neighbors!  Unknown to me until his service, he had this group of friends who were meeting all kinds of needs in secret. 

The next time you see your pastor, please remember that they are likely walking with people in all kinds of need. There might be a “Jim” in their lives. And they are carrying that person in their heart and doing their best to help.

I close with words that Robin, one of the women at the service, shared.  She knew Jim when he lived in the tiny home community.  She said:

“This small group of people showered abundant love and care on this man.  Jim might have been a test for us…a test of the human experience, to see if there was still compassion. And compassion won.” 

I am now serving with a ministry called Standing Stone, which has aimed for twenty years to provide a space for free, confidential coaching and care for pastors, ministry leaders, and leaders of every sphere. Standing Stone believes that healthy leaders need companions on their leadership journey, and that healthy leaders will lead healthy organizations that help transform their communities. You can learn more here: https://standingstoneministry.org/shepherd/burke-david/