Serving God as a Freelancer and Thoughts on Journalism

An elderly man wearing a baseball cap described himself to me as a former pastor who was now serving God as a freelancer. I was loading his SUV with foodstuffs. He didn’t move all that well, at least not his body. I got the feeling his soul moved just fine, much better than a lot of American souls.

The man told me the homeless crisis had prompted him and his wife to drive around the Portland area on a regular basis and administer to the needs of the homeless people in their various encampments. He defined his administering as delivering food and other supplies and also praying/counseling if the situation called for it. Sometimes it did, but that was never his first or even second goal.

I asked him how he chose where to administer and he told me God directed him. Such as a couple of days ago when he was driving up north near the Columbia River and he passed encampment after encampment and then turned right onto a gravel road, into a wooded and willowed area, and kept driving until the road ran out, and there he found a man living in a battered RV. He made the acquaintance of the occupant of the RV and discovered he was a former pastor who had lost his congregation and family and was now homeless. The man and his wife were heading out there this very morning.

I asked the man if he had learned how the former pastor had lost his congregation and he told me that was God’s business, not his. It occurred to me right then and there that Jesus was no journalist and just did the good work. I should learn from that. I already have determined that my role in this homeless crisis is not to act as a journalist, as much I want to. There is plenty of fine reporting I’ve read in print about this issue in urban Oregon and it is educating me like solid journalism does.

My loading was complete and I said goodbye to the man and his wife. They drove away and I watched them disappear down an avenue. I wished I could have accompanied them, but immediate responsibilities beckoned.

Yes, no journalism for me…but I dearly wanted to meet the former pastor living in the RV. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, either. A meeting and conversation doesn’t have to end up as journalism.