Pass It On

This photo has nothing to do with this blog entry, but it will give you a taste of the beauty we have been seeing along the Oregon coast.

We stopped in McMinnville, OR at the invitation of Ecclesia network friend, Joyce Wolcott.  She and Howie Harkema host Love in Action, a group of providers of services to the homeless in the community.  They come together every week to share information and problem-solve together.  They meet at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church which is also the site of a daily meal to over 2000 people per month.  Their model of collaboration serves their community well.

John and I were able to share our travels to Street Churches all across the country and to open up the possibility of Street Church in McMinnville.  The group does great work as individual organizations and together, but they had never considered (to our knowledge) the idea of worshiping as part of what they do, though most are from religiously affiliated programs.  I hope that we were able to plant some seeds.

The St. Barnabas Soup Kitchen brochure includes a quote from Gandhi -- "There are people in the world so hungry that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread."  When we share bread, whether at a meal or at the Holy Table, God is very much present.  And when we share ourselves the kingdom is very near.  All people, regardless of circumstance, long for connection and meaning.  Bread, sacramental or with peanut butter and jelly, brings us together and binds our lives with God.

Collaborative, Comprehensive Community

St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Portland, Oregon is home to a wide ranging number of ministries with people on the margins.  We visited on Saturday morning for St. Stephen's Table, a hot breakfast for whoever comes through the doors.  A man spontaneously sat down and played the piano throughout the morning, a soft jazz improvisation, lending a calmness to the gathering of over 50 guests. 

After breakfast, two nurses and an assistant set up a foot clinic and invited street-weary people to soak their feet, have their nails trimmed, and receive first aid for minor foot ailments.  Each person received a fresh pair of socks and gentle touch.  My thoughts naturally went to the night Jesus washed the feet of his disciples in an act of selfless giving.

On Sunday we met the Rev. John Paul Davis in a park in the center of Portland for Communion in the Park.  He pulled a red wagon behind him full of sandwiches and hard-cooked eggs.  He set up communion on a stone sculpture and nine of us worshipped as people passed by.  A woman brought along her therapy dog to say hello to strangers in a way that reduced the discomfort of meeting people for the first time.  After a brief communion service we took off down the length of the park, handing out sandwiches and eggs.  Crowds of theater goers watched as we demonstrated caring concern for our new friends on the streets.  Maybe they will remember the scene and repeat it themselves at some point.

St. Stephen's is also home to Operation Nightwatch, an independent program that extends hospitality both at the church and on the streets throughout the week.  In addition to food and a place to get inside, they offer movies, Open Mic nights, karaoke, games, Birthday Night, art, and even acupuncture.  They also offer worship.

I was impressed by the extent of support offered to people who are without homes through St. Stephen's Church and by the way that two organizations have collaborated so successfully.  It is not the norm for churches to open their doors every day of the week to the community beyond their membership.  St. Stephen's provides a model for us all.

On another note, the Occupy movement is in full swing in Portland.  Oregonians cherish their right to free speech and the mayor of Portland has allowed Occupy Portland camps in defense of that right.  When the homeless challenged him on that decision while, at the same time, being prevented from camping in Portland themselves, he refused them the right.  A private citizen stepped in and allowed a homeless camp to be set up on his property, just a few blocks from the Occupy Portland site.  The question is: Do free-speech rights take precedence over the right to a place to lay one's head at night?  Think about it.

The Power of Prayer

City Gates Ministries in Olympia, Washington is like none other that we have visited.  At 7:00 each Thursday night, two large vans, one smaller one, and various other vehicles pull onto a parking lot in the middle of the city, just across the street from a major transit center.  Out come tables, canopies, and a sound system.  The Rev. Phil Prietto takes the microphone and for the next hour preaches and invites the testimony of the group. 

The ministry has been growing since 1995.  Their mission -- "to show the love of Jesus Christ by unifying the Church to meet the needs of people in the community".   Their uniqueness is their size and that phrase "unifying the Church".  Approximately 14 congregations, mostly non-denominational and evangelical,  come together, not because they sign up to do specific tasks, but because they are acting as the Church in the world.  They are acting not as separate congregations, but as one Church with the sole purpose of walking with others on whatever journey they happen to be on.

The size of the ministry is impressive.  The trucks and vans are packed full of blankets, clothing, baby supplies, and hygiene items.  A simple meal of sandwiches and coffee or hot chocolate is served to about 150 people.  A photographer takes pictures that are ready the following week for people to take with them.  A woman explained, "Every time you look at the picture, you see Christ looking back at you."  There is a children's area with activities and toys or books for children to take with them.  And there is a massage table to relieve the stress of life on the streets.

And there is PRAYER.  At every opportunity, prayer is offered -- as people wait in line for various items and as people tell their stories to "ministry leaders".  It is clear in written guidelines that prayer is offered, not required, but I didn't see anyone refuse the offer.  The prayers are typically offered by small groups of people surrounding and laying hands on the one being prayed for.  As uptight Episcopalians it was a bit unnerving for John and me to be drawn into so much spontaneous prayer, but it became clear that our discomfort was our problem, not theirs.  The prayers are not isolated from the further offer of other help -- a place to sleep, drug/alcohol treatment options, assistance with social service agencies. And love and support were not contingent on the person's response to offers of help -- spiritual or otherwise.  Pastor Phil was clear that relationships come first and foremost.

As the evening was wrapping up at about 10:00 pm, a young man came up to greet us.  He had his two month old daughter with him.  He shared his story of coming to City Gates for five years arguing that God didn't even exist.  But he kept coming and is now a believer.  He has a home and a job and a family.  He has a community of people, a Church, that he can rely on for continued support and encouragement.  And now he feels that it's his turn to give back as he reaches out to others who share his struggles.

Prayer.  We (I) need to get over our (my) reluctance to pray freely and openly with others and to believe, really believe, in the transformative power of prayer.  The words we use don't really matter.  What matters is that we trust God enough to imagine our lives and the lives of others as whole and holy, renewed and recreated by God.

They Just Keep Coming

It was a gorgeous fall day, mid-afternoon on a football Sunday in Nashville  (home of the Tennessee Titans).  Church in the Yard, a ministry of Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Nashville, worships at 2:00 in the yard adjacent to the church.  It's a very traditional service, straight out of the Book of Common Prayer.  About 50 people, primarily men, gathered for Eucharist.  Members of a coffee-house church brought lunch for 200 and the food was gone in 1/2 an hour.

It amazed me to see the number of men lining up for hot dogs and chips.  They came from a shelter just a couple of blocks away for food and fellowship.  One of the lunch servers commented, "They just keep coming".  They just keep coming.  The number of people living on the streets of America is staggering.  The injustice of homelessness is heart breaking.  Lack of adequate housing, too few treatment facilities, lack of support of veterans damaged by war, only a few jobs, and no jobs for people who have no place to bathe or store their belongings.  How can we allow how brothers and sisters to live in these dehumanizing conditions?  When will we, as Christians, rise up and shout "Enough!"?

We've all been hearing the news about the Occupy Wall Street movement.  Perhaps some of us are participating.  While the movement needs to find its focus, I am hopeful that "the 99%" will begin to open the eyes of the "1%" to the fact that we are all intimately interwined, part of one family.  The country, the world, cannot continue to widen the gap between the very rich and the very poor without dire consequences for all. 

A major biblical theme is that of justice for the poor in light of the extreme privilege of the wealthy and powerful.  Where is our compassion?  Where is our faith?  In Matthew 23:23-24, Jesus admonishes, "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.  It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others.  You blind guides!  Your strain out a gnat but swallow a camel!"

We are the scribes and Pharisees as long as we can allow the long lines to continue to form week after week after week.  Or we can follow Jesus.  We can speak up.  We can shout, "Enough!".  We can demand that our public policies work toward building God's reign on earth through support for adequate housing for all, for increased access to high quality alcohol, drug, and mental health treatment programs, for guaranteed food for everyone, and for excelllent educational opportunities for all.  All that will mean that we may have to give up something, for we may not be in the top 1%, but most of us are near the top 10%.

Does Christ have a firm enough grip on our lives to move us to action?

Backpack Justice

"Woe to him who builds his house by unrighteousness, and his upper rooms by injustice; who makes his neighbors work for nothing, and does not give them their wages" (Jeremiah 22:13). 

The Church of the Common Ground meets every Wednesday in Woodruff Park in downtown Atlanta.  The day was beautiful, the park full of business people and people with no place else to go.  The noise around us was cacophonous -- cars honking, sirens screaming, fountains gushing, people talking, music playing.  But that did not deter our group from serious consideration of Jeremiah's words.  Mitsy knows what it's like to be labeled as homeless, and therefore not get paid a full day's pay for a full day's work.  "Yeah," she said, "they see someone with a backpack and they figure they can get something for nothing."  Backpack justice.  Others shared stories of injustices done to them, sounding at times resigned to their fate and at times determined to break the cycle. 

Into the midst of the conversation walked Teresa.  Applause broke out as she approached.  She just passed an exam that will allow her to become a nursing assistant, a dream she has had "forever".  There is hope.

Eucharist followed Bible Study, along with laying on of hands and anointing for healing.  Teresa joined Deacon Carol in praying with the one being anointed as the rest of the group remained in silent prayer.  There is always hope.

I've been reading the book  The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor: Seeing Others Through the Eyes of Jesus by Mark Labberton.  He takes his readers on a spiral through Seeing, Naming, and Acting as a way toward transformation and justice.  Good stuff for a Lenten study.  His chapters on "naming" especially touched me.  He talks about how the names we use to describe others shape their lives, and our own.  "Names are first and foremost expressions of relationship (p. 128)," he says. Generalizations we use (i.e., the homeless, the poor, the hungry) objectifiy and distance "us" from "them".  Labberton goes on to say, "Justice renames the forgotten as the remembered, the widow as the loved and the oppressed as the treasured" (p. 155).   When "the homeless" become Teresa and Mitsy and Lamar and Walter our relationships are transformed.  We become friends.  We begin to care on a very personal level about the injustices that shape their lives.  "Outreach" is renamed as simply what we do every day.  "Homeless ministry" is transformed into relationship building within our communities of faith.  "Programs" are transformed into acts of worship.  "Us" and "them" are renamed brother and sister in Christ and "that homeless man" becomes my friend, cherished by me and cherished by Christ.

The Jeremiah passage we studied on Wednesday concludes, "He [the former king] judged the cause of the poor and needy: then it was well.  Is not this to know me? says the Lord" (Jer. 22:16).  How will we come to know God?

Collective Wisdom, Shared Struggles

Ecclesia Ministry leaders from all over the US and a very special bishop from Rio de Janeiro gathered at beautiful, peaceful Lake Logan in North Carolina for retreat, sharing, learning, and prayer.  I want to share some of the wisdom and the struggles from that gathering.

We who are engaged in ministry with people living on the streets share many of the same struggles.  It is hard, painful work at times and nothing can adequately prepare us for the heartbreak and (sometimes) danger that we encounter.  We struggle to remain faithful to God's command that we show mercy without judgment.  We struggle to balance the needs of others with our own needs and the needs of our loved ones.  We struggle to identify and maintain resources for our ministries.  And we struggle to meet the needs of our volunteers who minister along with us.

But the struggles are minor when compared to the joy of serving God among the forgotten, oppressed, discarded children of God.  Those of us who have been doing street ministry for a while took some time to consider the word "mercy".   The word actually means "non-abandonment".  God promised never to abandon us and we, in turn, are called never to abandon God or God's people.  When we show mercy, we say to the other person, through words and actions, that God will never abandon him/her and neither will we.  Our sole objective in street ministry is to communicate God's mercy.  Isn't that, in fact, our sole objective as Christians?  All of our works of compassion in meeting the material needs of others, all of our efforts to bring justice to the poor and oppressed, all of our prayer and worship, are directed at being instruments of God's mercy in the world.

Mercy is, of course, closely tied to forgiveness.  We were introduced to a book called Jesus, A Historical Approximation by Jose Pagola.  In the book he writes "Jesus sits at the table with sinners, not as a severe judge but as a reassuring friend.  Grace comes before judgment in God's reign....The surprise is that Jesus accepts sinners without first requiring repentance as it is traditionally understood....He accepts them as they are, sinners, trusting totally in God's mercy which is seeking them out.  So Jesus was accused of being a friend of people who are still sinners.   That was intolerable.....He offers forgiveness without first requiring change (italics added)."  This quote made me think of the group of people who have been picketing St. John's Street Church.  Their signs read, "Repent" and "Jesus Saves".   They expect repentance and change before offering God's love and forgiveness and ridicule us for loving first.  Loving first is what sets Ecclesia ministries apart from what we traditionally think of as street preaching.  And it is also one of our challenges as we approach potential funders.  Funders, be they foundations, other churches, or individuals, ask what impact we make on people's lives, how many people we have gotten into permanent housing, or how many have overcome their addictions as a result of our ministries.

Those are the wrong questions.   The questions we are asking ourselves as we go into the streets are: Have we loved well?  Have we accepted the friends we meet as our sisters and brothers in Christ, without placing conditions on that friendship?  Have we offered God's forgiveness without first requiring change?  When those with resources can hear these as the essential questions, our ministries will flourish and they will understand that lives are changed.  The reign of God will come.

In closing I want to share a prayer that the Eccelsia community in Wooster, MA uses in their worship.  The prayer is attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero: 


It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view. The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
 We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
 We are prophets of a future not our own.