I was on the streets just long enough to realize how difficult it is to keep your skin clean and free of the sour smell chemically catalyzed by pavement, trash, and wet woods. I recall showering at a mission with my clothes still on to wash both my body and the only outfit I had. I also remember how thankful I was for the small things— a little change on the curbside, a leather strap to help me carry my load, shelter from the rain under the awning of a building. I’ll never forget how passers-by looked at me… or didn’t. Sometimes, it was disgust. Other times it was pity. Mostly, though, I was just ignored.
It was a unique experience on the front end of my 25 years of poverty alleviation work. Then, I was on the streets by choice. For most of the 278,000* people on the streets tonight, that’s not the case. Deep poverty and homelessness are complex issues often compounded or perpetuated by addiction, mental illness, and severely broken relationships. It’s a complex issue that’s growing.
Homelessness has risen dramatically in the last decade, with the greatest spike this last year (2025), increasing by 18%. Unsheltered homelessness (street homelessness) is a significant contributor to that statistic and has been on the rise since 2016. While federal agencies like the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) have significantly increased investment in housing support —spending over $600 billion to expand permanent supportive housing—people continue to struggle without shelter in our communities. The persistence of this crisis despite substantial resources points to the need for more comprehensive approaches that address not just housing, but the complex web of factors that contribute to homelessness. Factors that often require more than just institutional support to address.
Many Americans are asking hard questions about how we can be more effective in addressing this crisis. While we can continue pushing for the systemic changes that Washington and local governments are able to make, as Christians, we are called to ask a deeper question: “What can I do to help right now, in my own community?”
Of course, we can’t ignore the structural realities that contribute to this crisis: people priced out of housing markets, limited access to mental health care, and systems that often penalize rather than support people in crisis. However, personal engagement works alongside, and oftentimes more immediately and effectively, than the policy changes and systemic reforms our communities desperately need.
When God spoke through his prophet, “Bring the poor and homeless into your house,” (Isaiah 58:7) and to “offer yourself to the hungry,” (v. 10), there was no indication that such selfless acts should be delegated to the Assyrian government or even to the Levites. It was personal. It was also clear that the sacrifice He called His people to was more than only dispensing food but sharing life. Over the past several decades, we have invested enormous financial and institutional resources into addressing homelessness. Yet many efforts remain transactional—designed to manage need rather than restore relationship. Programs can provide services without proximity, and aid can be distributed without truly knowing the person receiving it. The current urban misery we witness on the streets of our cities is not from a lack of desire to solve homelessness, but a lack of desire to share life with a person who’s homeless
We must allow God’s compassion to change our hearts.
“But how do I engage someone living under a bridge? How can I share my life with someone who holds a cardboard sign at the corner of an intersection, hoping for my dollar?”
Begin by engaging them like they’re a person. Don’t assume you know what they need, recognize them as an image bearer, and whatever your charity, make sure it’s not only addressing superficial symptoms, rather than the source of the problem.
1. Don’t assume you know
Even when a panhandler has marked up a large cardboard sign to read, “Hungry anything helps God bless,” don’t assume he just needs a meal or a five-dollar bill. In my former life as a wound care specialist, I saw hundreds of chronic non-healing wounds on people who would finally resort to coming to my office because what they thought they needed had failed to bring about the healing they desired. And when I first saw the wound, I didn’t immediately know what to do either. Every chronic wound is complex. It required me to ask questions about the patient’s medical history, to carefully evaluate the wound, sometimes with a magnifier, and send in a culture to the hospital laboratory to find out if there was a specific type of bacteria that needed to be treated.
Just as physical injuries are complex, so is every person with a unique history of neglect, trauma, mistakes, and hardships associated with living on the streets. Don’t assume you know. Investigate. Even Jesus asked questions of those he helped. Where is your faith? Do you want to be made well? Can you see? Although they were tests, the responses informed Jesus’s response. We, too, should ask questions and let the responses inform our charity.
As a reminder, that doesn’t mean launching into a checklist of questions. Relationship always comes before investigation. Start by learning someone’s name, listening to their story, and building trust over time. Questions should grow naturally out of genuine care, not curiosity or control. Also, this kind of engagement should always prioritize safety, both yours and theirs, and should be guided by humility, patience, and discernment. Not every person is equipped to provide direct support, and that’s okay.
2. See the image of God
Too easily, we forget that we’re made in God’s likeness. The day-to-day grind of work, the feel-good of a physical embrace, or the satisfaction of a homemade meal keep our minds set on the physical realm so much so that we forget we’re made in the likeness of God, who is spirit. Our likeness to God the Father is not in that of having hands, feet, and a belly, but in the ability to reason, understand justice, and feel love. This could be why Jesus taught in parables that used illustrations of reason, justice, and love. They are qualities of God that exist in every human. It is how we are “like” Him.
It’s easy to look at someone who’s had an extraordinarily hard life and see what they’ve lost or what they lack. But that perspective misses something crucial: every person carries inherent worth and dignity, not because of what they’ve accomplished or what they currently have, but because they’re made in God’s image. That means they have the capacity to think, to love, to create, and to contribute something meaningful to the world.
The person you’re engaging with on the street corner? They have gifts, ideas, and potential that matter. When we only give handouts without any opportunity for reciprocity or contribution, we can accidentally reinforce the lie that they have nothing to offer.
This doesn’t mean we withhold help until someone “earns it”—meeting immediate needs can be crucial. But as relationships develop, look for ways to honor someone’s ability to contribute, whether that’s through their insight, their skills, or simply their presence and story. True dignity recognizes that everyone has something to give, even when they’re in crisis.
3. Meet the real need
During my time in healthcare, it was common for me to use compression wraps on legs to reduce swelling. But if I were to use compression to address that same symptom, which is in patients with congestive heart failure, I’d only load the heart with more fluid, which could throw my patient into cardiac arrest. If I understand the source of the problem, I’ll prescribe a diuretic (water pill) instead.
Strictly speaking, homelessness (being without a house) is a symptom. Other common symptoms include being without cash or food. And just like compressing the legs of a congestive heart failure patient may do more harm than good, simply treating the symptoms of poverty may do more harm than good, as well. What is the underlying pathology or source of a person in chronic poverty or homelessness? Often, a lack of healthy relationships, a loss of agency, and no sense of purpose. While meeting immediate needs—such as housing, food, or clothing—can be important, addressing symptoms alone can sometimes unintentionally deepen isolation. When aid replaces relationship, it may reduce opportunities for connection, reinforce dependency, and erode the dignity that comes from contributing meaningfully to others.
Helping to meet the real need may look like being called to direct relationship, financially supporting organizations that do this work well, advocating for better policies, or simply treating people experiencing homelessness with dignity in everyday interactions. In each of these scenarios, you’re contributing to change. The crisis is too complex for any single approach.
And, it’s worth acknowledging again that not everyone experiencing homelessness lacks relationships or purpose. Sometimes, there are circumstances that no amount of personal connection can solve.
Still, these three points are the foundation for your conversation with that person under the bridge or on the street corner. As you engage that individual, I hope you’ll think, “I want to know more about you, I see the image of God in you, and I want to help you with what’s really needed.” When we extend ourselves like that to those who are afflicted, we’ll not only help one person, but we’ll be the recipient of God’s blessing like the one described in Isaiah 58:11: “You will be like a watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”
*U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), 2024 Annual Homeless Assessment Report (AHAR) to Congress.
