The Trip is Over, The Journey Continues

Twenty-four states, from Portland, Maine to Portland, Oregon.  Over 6,000 miles by car, plus two flights to the west.  Twenty-two ministries serving the homeless and a conference in support of the people in those ministries.  Six national parks, numerous state parks, and miles and miles of beautiful scenery.  Oh, and one earthquake and one hurricane.  I can't tell you how often the song, "This Land is Your Land" played in my mind as we traveled.  What an incredible sabbatical.  There is no way to adequately express my thanks to the Louisville Institute and to the people of St. John's for making this adventure possible.

What have I learned?  I learned that there are people throughout the nation who care deeply for others, people who will do whatever it takes to demonstrate Christ's love to other people who haven't seen much evidence of that in their lives.  I learned that the traditional boundaries of "church" too often block the real ministry of the Church.  I learned that people who are without homes, people who may be in the grip of drug or alcohol abuse or mental illness, have a great deal to teach all of us more "fortunate" folks about faith and prayer and unconditional love.  And I learned that the whole Body of Christ must take more seriously our commission to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth, to move out of our comfort zones and go where Jesus went.  He spent most of his time with lepers and prostitutes and other "unclean" children of God.  When he spent time with the the educated and privileged, he didn't miss the opportunity to call them back to what was essential for people of faith, i.e. loving God and loving neighbor. 

We are called to spend time with the lepers of our day -- the homeless, the hungry, the grieving, the imprisoned.  And we are commanded to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth, not stopping at the doors of our church buildings, but moving out into the world, demonstrating our love of God and neighbor in tangible ways.

These blogs and my time away have given me an opportunity to focus my thinking.  I have been trying to set up an appointment with Congressman Steve Stivers, my U.S. House representative, to tell him about what I've seen and to invite him to come to Street Church (also in his district) to meet some constituents he hasn't met yet and may not know exist.  He has not responded to my invitation, but he should know that I'll keep trying! 

I've also been forming some ideas about the language we use and want to solidify those thoughts into something that I can share with others.  I'm talking about the way we use labels to describe people, the way we set up outreach committees in our churches as though reaching out to others was simply a program rather than the essence of what we do.  And my pet peeve -- the use of "feeding program" to describe what we do with outreach funds.  We feed pigs and pets. We dine with other people in a way that truly welcomes them into relationship with us.  Language matters.  We communicate meaning through our word choices, meaning deeper than we sometimes intend, meaning that is communicating very loudly to those listening.

But more on that at some other time.  It has been a pleasure to share my reflections with you.  I hope that something I have said has given you a fresh perspective or stimulated your imagination in some small way.  Thanks for taking this part of the trip with me.  Let's continue the journey together.

Meet Us at the Park and Ride

Church can happen anywhere.  In the small rural community of Guerneville, California, it happens at the Park and Ride every Sunday at 1:00.  It’s the second worship service of the day for the Rev. Pam Tinnin and a few others from the Guerneville Community Church – UCC.

We arrived early enough to see the empty parking lot begin to fill up with people in cars, on bikes, and on foot.  It was clear that just about everyone knew each other, a benefit of small town life.  A canopy was set up and chairs were brought from a nearby restaurant.  Their rock musician, Michael Adams, was not present on Sunday, so the group sang some of his original compositions with only a tambourine to help keep the rhythm. 

The scripture reading was one of the feeding of the multitude stories.  The comparisons to what happens at every street church service were readily drawn – always enough for everyone, always.  Christ’s model of ministry acted out with simplicity.  Hear the Word then break bread together. There is no need to send anyone away.  Just be where two or three others gather and share.

The lesson from Guerneville is that Street Church is not an urban ministry model.  The town has 2,200 people.  But some of those people do not feel that they can attend traditional church services.   So they come to an open space where others gather to worship, because they share the desire to worship and be in fellowship with other people of faith.  They are hungry in body and spirit and know that they will be fed, just like those thousands were fed by Jesus.

One of Michael’s songs expresses the need to worship and give thanks:

                I want to take this time to thank you God, for giving me my life.

                I want to take this time to thank you God, for giving me my life.
              Thank you God, Thank you God, for giving me my life.

              I want to take this time to ask you God, to teach me how to love……

             I want to take this time to show you God, a willingness to grow……

 To give thanks, to learn to love, and to show a willingness to grow.  Worship is praise and thanksgiving to God.  Wherever we are, with whoever shows up.  That’s Church.

Dancing with the Saints

St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in San Francisco is known to many throughout the church for two reasons – it’s dancing saints and its food pantry.  Artist Mark Dukes painted both ancient and modern-day saints on the walls above the round sanctuary of St. Gregory’s.  They are joined in a joyous dance.  And every Friday that same sanctuary is transformed into a food pantry serving about 400 people per week.  The saints dance above while people load bags and carts with fresh produce, bread, and staples. Sara Miles has written about the ministry in Take This Bread and Jesus Freak.   John and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to visit while in San Francisco.

The pantry isn’t so different from other food pantries.  Well, except for the saints who dance above it.   AND the joy with which people serve.   All the volunteers were dressed up for Halloween, adding to the festive mood.  We were warmly welcomed, offered coffee, given hugs, and called by name.  This simple practice is SO important  if people are to feel truly valued and welcomed.  It reminded me once again of why I do what I do, of what a great privilege and joy it is to serve others in the Name of Christ.  The only thing better would be to not have to serve the needs of the poor because there are no more poor among us.  

I’m writing this on All Saints’ Day, my 15^th anniversary as Vicar at St. John’s and a day to remember that we are one with the living and the dead and the ones yet to come.  The Occupy movement is certainly reminding us that we are one with the richest and the poorest and everyone in between.  My three months of travel from one street ministry to another across the nation has sharpened my awareness of the interconnectedness of all of us in our wealth and our poverty (economically and spiritually), and in our response to God’s command to love God and love one another.  I’ve seen love in action everywhere I have visited.  I have seen Christ all across the U.S. in the faces of the homeless and in the faces of those who worship and serve among them.  Let us dance with joy as we praise God in all that we do.

Preach It, Sister!

5:30 on a Thursday afternoon.  Rush hour in San Francisco.   But above the din of buses and cars, seemingly oblivious to the crush of people entering and exiting the BART station, the Revs. Monique Ortiz and Vicki Gray call whoever hears their voices to worship.  In both English and Spanish, people on the streets are welcomed to Open Cathedral in the heart of the Mission district.

Some accept worship bulletins from street ushers.  Others study their own shoes.  Still others, many others, gather on the fringes and listen.  The lesson is from Matthew 23.  First Jesus describes the scribes and Pharisees as ones who tell others to observe the law, but do not practice it themselves, ones who lay heavy burdens on others, but save the places of honor and power for themselves.  Then Jesus pronounces, “He who is greatest among you shall be your servant”, continuing with a long list of woes upon the scribes and Pharisee, the hypocrites, anyone who uses their own power to oppress others.

This was one day after a young man, a veteran, in Oakland, just across the bay from San Francisco, was seriously injured when the police tried to stop people from camping as part of the Occupy movement.  Emotions were running high for the 99% and Jesus’ lesson spoke directly to the frustration and anger of those left behind and living on the margins who had gathered for worship.  Monique, a UCC minister, preached from the depths of her being.  “You are the greatest.  You have the power.  I have seen how you serve one another, care for one another”, she boldly declared into her microphone as she gave various examples of how that congregation of homeless men and women had supported one another.   She communicated the power of her convictions and the power of Christ’s love unashamedly in that public setting.  She could really preach!

Then she moved more placidly into the consecration of a large loaf of bread and a chalice of grape juice.  The attention of the crowd became a bit more focused and when it was time for the Lord’s Prayer about 40 people joined hands and prayed together, ready for that holy meal.  Monique and Vicki moved outside the circle, extending the offer of Christ’s Body and Blood throughout the plaza. 

Open Cathedral San Francisco, holds two worship services each week, one in the Mission district that I visited, and on in the Tenderloin.  The worship is part of San Francisco Night Ministry, a ministry that goes out on the streets from 10 pm until 4 am every night, searching out and serving the needs of people living on the streets.  I am in awe of the courage in must take to do that work, but I saw the connections that Monique and Vicki had with the people in their congregation and beyond.  Christ is very present on the streets of San Francisco.  The power belongs to those who serve. Thanks be to God.

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.