By Ryan Roth-Klink
Artwork by: "Saint Kevin" by Ryan Roth-Klink.

“Tap rapa tap-tap.” My hands pause what they are doing at the sound of that familiar knock on the door. “Tap rapa tap-tap.” “Hey Ryan, are you in there?” a gravelly voice ponders on the other side. “Coming, I am coming!” I yell. “Pitter, patter, pitter, patter,” go the feet of my dog, Barnaby, close to my heels as I whisk over to the door. My hand lands on that strange door knob… “Why on earth would anyone put the handle above the deadbolt?” my brain asks for the millionth time. 

The door swings open and as if reading my wandering mind, the man in the doorway proclaims, “You’ve got a problem with that door there pal.” He is wearing his classic Scotsman cap and uses his empty coffee cup to accusingly point at the door knob. “Who in the hell puts the door knob above the lock anyways? What an idiot!” I can’t help but agree with him. “It is a strange problem to have.” “Well,” he says, “I can fix it quicker than Churchill drove the Nazi’s back to Germany if you wanted!” I cannot help but laugh at that one. “But, then we wouldn’t be able to complain about it with each other when you come over here every Wednesday.” “You’ve got me there pal,” he chuckles, “That damn old door is a problem, but it's our problem.”

Yes, that damn old door was our problem. My friend at the door, Kevin, and I never did fix it. Though we did try one time, much against my will. He came into our house one Wednesday and tried to fix the handle and lock while I cooked dinner. He stripped the screws and three hours later, around 11pm at night, we still had not fixed the door. I yelled at him, “What is your problem!? Why did you take that knob off? Why didn’t you just wait?!” Kevin just turned to me, gave me his wry smile, and said, “Well I was trying to help you pal. I’ll tell you what though, let’s grab some shut eye. I’ll sleep on the porch and watch the door. Sleeping outside isn’t anything new to me anyways. You’ll be alright.” 

Kevin hasn’t lived in a house for as long as I have known him, which is going on eight years. As soon as people hear that he is “homeless,” it’s like all the other parts of him melt away. He becomes a problem to solve or fix, like the door knob being flipped with the deadbolt on the door. Words like problem, needy, hungry, and pain are used to describe him and his situation. The questions directed towards him become, “What do you need? How can I help you? Can I get you anything? Why are you homeless?” It’s as if Kevin’s name becomes synonymous with the word homeless and people never consider what makes up the rest of Kevin.

As someone who has called him friend for all these years, I am often troubled by how people talk about Kevin. Kevin is more than a problem to be solved. He is an avid reader who has read every book on World War II in the library down the street. He is a deacon at the Disciples of Christ church that he has attended for twenty years. He is a storyteller who knows more about the history of his neighborhood than anyone else who lives there. He used to be the head construction manager for a large company and he can fix almost anything related to a house or building. He is someone who doesn’t like to be told what to do or not to do, which leads him to be a bit mischievous. He is someone who tries fix flipped door knobs when no one is looking.

Kevin is more than the needs people see on the surface; he is a hidden saint to his church community, neighborhood, and me. He offers us all a hint of what the kin-dom of God looks like, where we relinquish our false notions that we are the helper and he is the helped. Kevin helps us balance the scale and understand that this top down perspective is an illusion. Kevin has legitimate needs and he is gifted. I also have legitimate needs and I am gifted. You too have legitimate needs and you are gifted. Kevin illuminates this truth, which moves us all towards the house of wholeness. 

Ryan Roth-Klinck is wayfaring companion with befriends forgotten people. He is a photographic and collage artist and is the curator the “Are We Still Heroes?” art show, which was recently exhibited in the St. Paul’s Art Space in November. On the side he pastors two churches, trains spiritual directors, and co-leads the Nourished community with his wife, Kristina. You can contact Ryan at ryan@neighboringmovement.org or follow is instagram account: kernel_crinkles