In the Shadow of the White House

Every Tuesday a group of dedicated volunteers gathers in the kitchen of the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany to make sandwiches, delegate tasks, and pray before they push three shopping carts several blocks to Franklin Square Park.  The park is just two blocks from the White House and a popular spot for the homeless to rest.

It was almost impossible to hear the priest, Susan, over the fountain in the background and other street noise, but that didn't stop about 40 people from joining the group to listen, to pray, and to break bread together.  I was impressed by how actively welcoming the more experienced members of Street Church were as they stayed alert to people coming up to the group, speaking to them and handing them a sheet with the liturgy and songs printed on it.  It was clear that there are no strangers at Street Church.

What does it say about us as a nation that so many people are without homes so very close to the seat of our government, that some of the most privileged individuals in America walk past the most in need without as much as a nod of recognition?   What has happened to our sense of justice and compassion, if it really ever existed beyond rhetoric? 

Those of us involved in ministry to the homeless, the addicted, the mentally ill, the veterans who are still at war within themselves, constantly struggle with how to be in relationship with our friends on the street and, at the same time, work for justice on a broader scale.  The reality is that we cannot do it all, that we must rely on and trust others to do some of the work.  But a larger reality dictates that we who know the homeless as our friends must work to bring about justice for and with them.  We know the stories and it is our responsibility to tell them to those in positions of power and influence.  When is the last time any of us wrote a letter to our senators or representatives at the state and national levels sharing the stories of the people we meet every week or every day on the street?  When is the last time we asked a government leader to accompany us to our street ministry, to break bread with us and meet the very poor one-on-one?  Jesus became so angry at the hypocrisy of the temple system of his day that he overturned the money-changers' tables.  Perhaps it is time for us to do the modern-day equivalent and challenge the actions of politicians and citizens who have turned their backs on the most vulnerable among us.