How Do You Handle A Panhandler?

Every few days it happens. I pull up to a busy intersection. Stop at the red light. And there he is, flashing his cardboard sign:

“Will work for food.”

“Homeless vet, down on my luck.”

“Anything will help. God bless you.”

I struggle with how to respond. Do I make eye contact? Smile? Give him money? Pray for him?

Left to my own devices, my heart would remain fairly cold toward him. Sadly, my first reaction to him is usually along the lines of, “Why doesn’t he just get a real job?” But Jesus lives inside of me now. And I’m fairly confident His first thought toward the man differs completely from mine.

I’ve learned a little about God’s heart toward panhandlers by observing several friends over the years…

One day Jennifer was carting a group of us around in her minivan, when she intentionally changed lanes at a stop light so she could give a panhandler a $20 bill. I mumbled something like, “Aren’t you worried he’s just gonna spend that on booze?” She answered, “Well, that’s between him and the Lord. Maybe he will. But what I give is between me and the Lord. And I don’t think the Lord will ever fault me for erring on the side of mercy.”

Steve sometimes stops to treat panhandlers to lunch and listen to their stories. Lori prepares care packages—bags full of bottled water, non-perishable food, McDonald’s gift cards, local shelter information, etc.—ahead of time and stores them in her car, ready to whip out when the need arises.

I read an interview with George Clooney recently where he discussed his views on this topic. (The interviewer observed Clooney give generously to a panhandler.) Clooney said something like, “Yeah, so he’ll probably go buy a drink with that money. So what? He probably needs a drink.”

Somehow George Clooney, with all his wealth and worldly status, who from outward appearances doesn’t have a deeply spiritual life, has more compassion for panhandlers than I—a missionary—have. He understands better than I that none of us deserve the good things we have. And that mercy granted only when earned isn’t really mercy at all.

I’ve been searching for the John Piper quote I read a couple of years ago about the topic, but for the life of me I can’t find it.* So you’ll have to pardon me for paraphrasing—I’m sure he wrote much more eloquently than I. His question was, “Where would we be if God only gave to us when He knew we would steward His gift well?”

I’m still wrestling through all of this, particularly the practical application aspect. This issue has become even more complicated, and weightier, now that I have children old enough to notice panhandlers—and to notice how I respond to them.

If you can provide insight and instruction for me (and my readers) on this issue, would you kindly share it below?

*I think I read the Piper quote in Don’t Waste Your Life, but I can’t remember for certain. If anyone knows the source, will you please let me know?