Last week I wrote about travelling on my local bus, contrasting it to my experiences on the London Underground. I travel to London quite frequently to see family and count myself as reasonably proficient at navigating the various lines.
This is normally in the daytime, and a recent experience in the late evening showed me that I still have a lot to learn. I had been to a family party in south west London and left at 11pm to go to north east London where I was spending the night. I was accompanied by my son and daughter in law so was not anxious about my safety. When we got on the underground train there was just one seat so I took it, glad to sit down after an evening of standing at the party. However, my daughter in law looked at me with a meaningful expression and suggested I move to another seat as we neared the first stop and someone got up.
I then noticed that the man I had been sitting next to was drunk, not aggressively so but he was swaying to the right and left and could easily have collapsed on anyone sitting next to him. I was sitting opposite him for the rest of the journey and had plenty of time to reflect on the sadness of his situation. He occasionally took another swig of whatever was in the bottle in his bag and looked like he was incapable of getting up to leave the train, much less navigate stairs or escalator to leave the station.
I later asked my daughter in law what would happen to him and she thought he would continue riding back and forth on the Victoria Line until it shut down, when officials would half carry him out, up the stairs and leave him on the street. There he would join the ranks of the many homeless people lying about in the cold and wet on London’s streets till the morning. I may have moved away from him physically but he remained in my thoughts, as we walked to my son and daughter in law’s house, and if feeling sad for someone can be a way of praying, and I believe it can, then he was prayed for that night.
The story of The Good Samaritan is a hard hitting one, and yet there are some situations where we cannot be of help. I would suspect that this man had gone beyond the point where he could be helped by any of the wonderful organisations that exist in big cities to help people with addiction and homelessness. The words of Ralph McTell’s haunting song ” Streets of London” came back to me that night. He doesn’t specifically mention addiction but he highlights loneliness and anonymity in a big city,
“Have you seen the old man
In the closed down market
Kicking up the papers
With his worn out shoes?
In his eyes you see no pride
Hand held loosely at his side
Yesterday’s paper
Telling yesterday’s news
So how can you tell me you’re lonely
And say for you that the sun don’t shine?
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of London
Show you something to make you change your mind.
Dear Lord, we feel so sad for those whose lives have been ruined by addiction. We pray for those who work in organisations that try to help and free people, and for those who give end of life care to addicts. We remember chaplains hoping to bring your love into seemingly helpless situations. May they be granted the strength they need and may we never just shrug off the sadness. Amen