Sermon 9/1/2019: Hot Dog and Thomas


Sunday, September 1, 2019 
Lessons: 

Jeremiah 2:4-13Psalm 81:1, 10-16
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16Luke 14:1, 7-14




          We arrived at the campground on a Monday evening two weeks ago.  We like arriving on a Sunday or a Monday and camping mid-week because the State Parks are generally quieter.

          This time around, we did not pre-select our campsite.  Instead, we drove around the campground, looking for the “perfect” space for our pop-up camper.  We found the one we wanted.  And our nearest neighbor was three campsites away.  A man and his dog in a tent.


          It didn’t take long before we realized this man was likely homeless.  He rarely left his tent.  Employees from the park would stop in and check on him and he didn’t seem to be eating.

          On Wednesday, Jeff and I decided to invite him to dinner.  We had three pork chops for the grill and it was unlikely we would eat them all. 

          I walked over to his tent and asked him if he was hungry.  He said he was.  He told me he was homeless and that he was waiting to hear if he would be in a shelter the following week.  His dog was nearby.  He said, “I have to get rid of my dog.”

          You see, the shelter would not take both of them.

          I asked him if he wanted me to bring him a plate or if he would like to join us.  He chose to come to our campsite and join us.

          He smelled funny and he walked funny.  He didn’t put on a shirt.  His little dog was on a leash, but the dog didn’t need him to hold it, so it trailed him as they came over. 

          The dog was a tiny little thing.  I asked about the dog.  What kind is he?  He thought he was a Jack Russell Terrier. 

          I have friends from seminary who rescue dogs, so I knew I had a resource to help, so I asked if he wanted help finding a good home for the dog.  He said yes.

          Then, I asked, “What’s the dog’s name?”

          He replied, “Hot Dog.”

          Well, that was perfect.  My friends have a bunch of dogs and all of them have food names.  I was pretty certain I had found a home for this little guy. 

          I sent a message to my friend.

          “Hi, I’m camping with Jeff and we are having dinner with a homeless man who has a Jack Russell he has to part with, named…Hot Dog.  Can you help?” 

          I sent two pictures.

          “How old?” She asked.

         
Maybe 8?"

          “He looks like a rat terrier, not a Jack.  Friendly?”

          “Very.”

          “Damn.  You know I want old ratties.  You suck.”  Winkie face.
 
         
          And so it began. 

          While this was happening, Jeff was getting to know our new friend.  His name is Thomas.  He is recently homeless.  His mother died when she was 50 and he is still grieving.  He was born with Spina Bifida, and in recent years, had his right leg amputated below the knee.  He has a prosthesis.

          No wonder he walked funny. 

          He told us his mom gave his sister up for adoption when she realized how much help he was going to need.  He and his sister recently reconnected and they talk frequently.

          My friend asked for his name.  When I responded with “His name is Thomas, that’s as far as we’ve gotten.”  My friend responded, “You don’t need a last name to make a new friend.”

          “That’s true.” I responded.

          We had dinner together, learning more about his story.  He smiled.  He ate well.  He appreciated a hot, healthy meal.  People had been bringing him non-perishable food from the dollar store, so meat, rice and fresh vegetables were probably a nice change.

          We talked about the raccoons that had come to visit us the night before.  How bold one was, sneaking up under the table, nearly walking through Jeff’s legs before I caught sight and gasped.  How one walked right up to my foot and leapt back when I wiggled my toe.  How one got on the table to check out the box with the s’mores makings.  Then, when Jeff left me alone at our campsite, I turned around to see at least four of them walking toward me from under and around the camper.

          Thomas was fascinated, and uncomfortable at the same time.  He wanted to see them, but he didn’t want to see them at the same time. 

          We were sitting around the fire, getting ready to have s’mores.  Thomas was on the phone with his sister, telling her he had never had a s’more before.  Unfortunately, it began to rain, so we went to our respective lodging for the night.

          The next day I told Jeff I didn’t think we had enough food for Thomas to join us for dinner.  But when it came time to eat, Thomas and Hot Dog joined us again.  We had s’mores that night!  And the raccoons visited us, too.  


          Hot Dog really took to us.  But he also really stuck around Thomas.  They had been together for about six months.  Hot Dog had been Thomas’ aunt’s dog, but she had to let him go because there were too many dogs in the house.  I could tell that while Thomas knew he needed to part with Hot Dog, he really didn’t want to.

          He was happy to know that I had found Hot Dog a home where he would be safe and well cared for.  And my friends were getting ready to welcome Hot Dog into their pack.  We were getting ready to do something we had never done before.  We were going to rescue a dog.  We might even have rescued his human.

          

There is some key information I didn’t share.  My friends live in Sheboygan, Wisconsin.  They have six dogs and six cats.  Jeff and I were committing to driving this dog from Albion, Indiana to Naperville, Illinois to meet one of the dogs in the pack and one of the humans who would be taking Hot Dog into their home.








          It wasn’t a banquet by any means.  It was pork chops, Rice-a-Roni and fresh vegetables.  The next day it was sausages, generic boxed macaroni and cheese and the rest of the vegetables.  Simple food served on a faded red and white checkered plastic tablecloth on a worn wooden picnic table. 

          While it wasn’t a feast either night, there was still hierarchy. 

          It wasn’t a Sabbath meal, but we were taking time for respite.

          We didn’t make the lame walk.  But we might have healed him in another way.

          He could not repay us.  He cannot invite us in return.

          And I don’t know whether we helped an angel unawares.

          But hopefully, we provided him with respite, with comfort, with the ability to easily move into a homeless shelter when space will open up for him. 

          When we took Hot Dog on Friday afternoon from his tent, Thomas had tears in his eyes.

          I promised him I would send him pictures of the exchange with my friends.  I needed him to know that we did what we said we would do.

          When I sent those pictures he wrote back saying, “I miss my hotdog but I’m glad he got a good home.”

          And he does have a good home.  He’s already been to obedience school and to the vet.  He has found his space on the bed at night, he’s exploring his backyard and he’s playing well with his new doggie family.  He is part of their family, or, as they call it, their “pack.”

          I haven’t heard if Thomas is in the shelter yet.  I pray that he is soon.  He really wants to get back on his feet and make changes in his life.

          I’m not sure we’ll ever rescue a dog again.  But I am sure that God was with all of us in those few days.  We were supposed to camp in that spot, near Thomas.  We had food to share.  We had resources to help.   

          That’s what it’s all about, folks.  Opening our doors, setting places at our tables, allowing our hearts to welcome others, not because we expect anything in return, but because it is what Jesus would do. 


Let us pray.  Heavenly Father, we pray especially today for Thomas and all those who are homeless.  We pray for shelters and their volunteers and their staff.  We pray for food pantry clients, employees and volunteers.  We pray for animal rescuers and shelters.  We pray for those who will open their hearts, their wallets, their car windows and their homes to those who need support.  We pray for ourselves, that we may recognize the ways we can help others and then act and help.  Thank you for Hot Dog and all pets that help us learn what unconditional love can do when we open ourselves to the comfort and joy each pet brings.  We thank you, Jesus, for teaching us how to welcome others into our lives.  Amen.