I read a lot of books by Christians who care about the poor. You know, “liberal” Christians, those social-justice peaceniks who live in communes and, incredibly, do not see the blatant inconsistency in claiming to be a Christian while voting for Democrats. Sadly, because of what is an obviously compromised state of mind, I actually learn a great deal from these folks.

About a month ago I finished “God in the Alley,” by Greg Paul, who leads a small church in Toronto among prostitutes, the homeless, drug addicts, and general down-and-outers. Reading books like this demolishes the canned solutions and simpleton answers that we well-fed evangelicals (and the entire Republican Party) routinely fling at deep social problems.

I most remember the story of Rose, daughter of a heroin addict, now a prostitute trying to care for her own two children, whom she loves deeply. How can she be a prostitute and be a good mother? Greg Paul describes her as a commendably good mother.

Despite the fact that nobody anywhere ever has modeled healthy parenting for her, she is absolutely dialed in to those children. You make some remark to that effect, and her eyes fill with tears.

“I love them,” she says, simply, softly. “I’d do anything for them.”

And she does. Every night, in cars, hotel rooms, alleyways. Every night, she sacrifices her body for the children she loves.

Wow. There’s a whole world–a complicated, untidy, messy world–that I know nothing about, living in my comfortable middle class suburban home. I can sit back and render judgement on Rose, state what she needs to do to make her life right. But I’m largely ignorant of the real dynamics of such situations. I catch many glimpses of it at Anchor, my own church, as we interact with people in deep, deep holes. And I do, finally, get my hands a little bit dirty (as opposed to just writing a check).

I grew up hearing easy answers to social problems spewed from pulpits. But we don’t know what we’re talking about. Greg Paul offers no easy solutions. He just tells stories about people in this blighted area of Toronto, and sometimes the stories have happy endings. Greg Paul knows what he’s talking about. And having read his book, I know a lot more.