When we were visiting family and friends in Portland recently, Debby and I went downtown for a bit. I dropped her off at Powell’s Bookstore and I went to park the car. A few minutes later, I found myself talking to a homeless man. I don’t recall his name, but he said, “Call me Sarge.” He was a veteran of the war in Vietnam and had many stories of heartache and regret. The old term for someone like Sarge might have been “hobo”.
I don’t know what images the word hobo conjures up for you. It often refers to a subculture of wandering homeless people. I’ve heard some people make distinctions between hobos (homeless travelers willing to work) and tramps or bums who will not work. None of the designations are particularly positive. Whatever dismissive or demeaning term may be used, the image that comes to mind may be of a down-trodden, shabbily-attired and perhaps drunken male. He may or may not be carrying a sign or a bundle of belongings. More light-heartedly, some may picture one of comedian Red Skelton’s memorable characters, Freddy the Freeloader.
One time, Red Skelton said this about his famous hobo clown: “I guess you might say that Freddy the Freeloader is a little bit of you and a little bit of me, a little bit of all of us. He’s found out what love means. He knows the value of time. He knows that time is a glutton. We say we don’t have time to do this or do that. There’s plenty of time. The trick is to apply it. And Freddy knows all these things. And so do you. He’s nice to everybody because he was taught that man is made in God’s image. He’s never met God in person and the next fella might just be him.” We could probably learn much from this philosopher named Freddy.
The origin of the term “hobo” is not clear. There are several theories. Some say it stands for homeless body. Some say the word may be a shortening of the phrase that best describes the early hobo’s method of transportation, which was hopping boxcars. Still others suggest that the letters in hobo stand for helping our brothers out. I like that charitable and challenging explanation. But here’s my favorite: homeward bound!
Homeward bound. Certainly, we still have a lot to learn about traveling light. We forget that home, like church, is not about place but about people. It’s more about where you hang your heart than where you hang your hat. As we make our way in this world and through it, we’re homeward bound. We’re all hobos. Let’s help our brothers out.
Dennis Lynn
Redwood Church
