It is Thursday morning. Yesterday was very, very busy and I didn't make it home in time to write before my fatigue overwhelmed me. Perhaps I needed more time to reflect on the day also.
I missed the sermon yesterday at Haywood Street, but Judy and Karla summarized it for me as being about "family" as personified in the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The church is family also. I look forward to listening to Brian's sermon on-line.
I spent the majority of my hours at Haywood Street in the Clothes Closet. What a great group of companions! Phyllis and the ladies, Judy and Karla, from Mars Hill were there, Marie from Waynesville was there, and Lora and her little girl, Kimora, were there. Nicole from South Asheville rounded out the group. Mary, one of our companions from several weeks ago, stopped by. She looked great, new haircut, smile on her face, life is getting back to something like normal for her and her husband since their long distance move. The children's corner was full, a nice difference. Often the pickings are slight there, but there have been lots of donations. Yesterday it was the men's department that needed to be restocked and we had lots of men who are volunteers in the kitchen or upstairs at the service who brought in great finds for the men's department. God provided.
During a quiet period when most of the companions were eating, one of the people I met several weeks ago came in to look at the clothes. She said something interesting that I need to remember. She said that everything was taken away from her, but that God was returning the things she really needed. I know she was a professional who lost her job and then her home due to the economy. Since she is an architect, losing her home was big. I didn't get to talk to her for long, but it was very important to hear how her faith walk had provided. From what she has said previously, she was not a woman of faith before and she has been fascinated to see how the present has unfolded. For her it has been an adventure. I don't think she has children. I think adventures are scarier for mothers perhaps, but then should it be?
I sat with my friend from Candler UMC and her 5th grade daughter at lunch. She and Nicole were my luncheon buddies. Molly, the 5th grader, had just graduated from elementary school and had tied with her best friend for the math award. She said she liked the game playing that they did in math to learn. Yes, children used to learn a lot of math at home playing Parchesi and measuring while they cooked or sewed or built something with their parents. Now it is all left to school, so little time to play games or do things with parents. I was glad to hear she enjoyed the fun part of math. Her favorite part of school, however, was D.A.R.E. They had a female D.A.R.E. officer who was great at initiating role playing. Nice. Nicole could hear some of the conversation and recalled her aunt who was an elementary teacher.
After lunch we went to the service, but as it began, Brian asked who drove an Acura. I was embarrassed to raise my hand, but I was wanted in the parking lot. I felt badly when I saw what happened. A man who had come to lunch with his mother had pulled around my car and in an effort not to hit an SUV had scraped my car. The police officer who often comes to lunch saw it all and was writing it up when I arrived. I missed the entire service while the business part of the accident was taken care of. That made me sad. Also, the man who scraped my car had some sort of a leg problem, his right leg, and I think it may have affected his ability to handle his car. The police officer suggested I discuss with him handling it without his insurance. The man said he didn't have money. I told him we'd see what the repair would cost and then discuss it. However, as I was leaving, the police officer came over and said the man told him to tell me to call the insurance.
I went to Hendersonville to visit Shug and Bob after the service. They are not well. I stopped on the way out there and got an estimate for the repair. It was better than I thought, but still it is probably more than the man can afford. I thought about the way to handle this all the way to Hendersonville and back. I prayed about it which seemed very important. I pray all the time TO God, but I've been short on listening time. Lately, I've worked more on listening. I decided after talking with my insurance company to do as they suggested and call his insurer, report the claim, and wait and see what they said about handling it. When I got home, Ken and I discussed it and decided that was the best way to go. I await a call back about what they will do to handle the claim. What helped me decide is the thought that the man's inability to judge distances and navigate within a parking lot might have resulted in something worse if he had not been going so slowly or if my car had been moving. I worry that the man and his mother might lack transportation to come for lunch if his insurance goes up and he can't afford it, but perhaps I could pick them up instead of his driving should that become a problem.
This is a dilemma I had not reckoned with before. I suppose, however, in an effort to hold "family" accountable, one should do as they ask. Does that make us equal? I know God loves us all the same, well, as much as one another. This is one of those Thomas Merton times when I hope that God is happy with me because I want to do what He would have me do. Whether or not I did it is another question.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
My Kind of God
“God is the comic shepherd who gets more of a kick out of that one lost
sheep once he finds it again than out of the ninety and nine who had the
good sense not to get lost in the first place. God is the eccentric
host who, when the country-club crowd all turned out to have other
things more important to do than come live it up with him, goes out into
the skid rows and soup kitchens and charity wards and brings home a
freak show. The man with no legs who sells shoelaces at the corner. The
old woman in the moth-eaten fur coat who makes her daily rounds of the
garbage cans. The old wino with his pint in a brown paper bag. The
pusher, the whore, the village idiot who stands at the blinker light
waving his hand as the cars go by. They are seated at the damask-laid
table in the great hall. The candles are all lit and the champagne
glasses filled. At a sign from the host, the musicians in their gallery
strike up "Amazing Grace.”
― Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale
This God's Kingdom is the true home I long for. Could it be that Haywood Street is this small taste of Heaven?
― Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale
This God's Kingdom is the true home I long for. Could it be that Haywood Street is this small taste of Heaven?
Courage
I am on the road this week, not in Asheville and therefore not at Haywood Street tomorrow. I shall miss my time there, but the distance and the drive have given me time for reflection about the community at Haywood Street.
I feel compelled to write about the courage it takes to live unhoused. There are many stories. Last week I met a woman who had just arrived in Asheville five days before. She and her husband had ridden a bus across the country from Montana to North Carolina because they heard there was work in the mountains. They arrived on Friday night only to discover that there was no shelter open and they had no where to stay. They had to sleep outside and on the street. Somehow they heard about Haywood Street and found their way to us. They had also found a place that would house them since Monday. She wanted to be a companion and put herself to work immediately in the Clothing Closet. One of the benefits of the Clothing Closet is that the inventory turns over rapidly. One of the other companions had brought some beautiful knit shirts in many colors for us to put out. Our new friend from Montana found a lovely yellow one that set off her tan and suited her sunny personality, but she wanted to leave something in exchange. She left a beautiful pastel lilac backpack. Someone wanted it and she went upstairs to tell her husband that she had exchanged it for another bag so he wouldn't think someone had stolen the backpack from her. She arrived with a smile on her face and left with a bigger one. It was clear she has a spirit of open trust and generosity. I am hoping to catch some of that from her when I go back next week. I know she and her husband want work, but I hope she finds something to do that allows her to come back for Haywood Street's lunches and services.
Another worker that I met recently is not unhoused now, but she has faced the threat of it and has made her way without losing heart. She has a job and she lives in a community a good distance away, but on a bus line so she can come to Haywood Street to work. Her car had an expensive repair she couldn't afford so she gave up her car. That meant she couldn't keep the job she had as there wasn't public transportation to it and therefore could not make her housenote. She lost her house as well as her car. What a change in her life! She had never been without a car since she was a teenager or a house since she was an adult. She has a friend who helps her do heavy shopping on weekends since trying to carry groceries on the bus is difficult if she has more than a bag or two. I thought of my grandmother who never learned to drive a car. She worked as a secretary after her husband died of TB leaving her with four young children. Every day she rode the bus to town and back and when she got off the bus she went to the butcher and the green grocer for that night's dinner because that was all she could carry. Then she walked down an alley to her back door. My new acquaintance reminded me of that determination. If I wanted to make it sound romantic, I could say they were both very European, but I know what it is like to carry heavy groceries after a hard day of work from a car into a house. It is not romantic. I can only imagine what it was like to carry food many blocks.
Yes, it takes courage to sleep outside in sub-freezing temperatures, to endure thunder storms without shelter, to travel across the country on a rumor of work, and to restart life without transportation and a home. What they find at Haywood Street is an appreciation of their strength and a loving community that wants them to succeed.
I feel compelled to write about the courage it takes to live unhoused. There are many stories. Last week I met a woman who had just arrived in Asheville five days before. She and her husband had ridden a bus across the country from Montana to North Carolina because they heard there was work in the mountains. They arrived on Friday night only to discover that there was no shelter open and they had no where to stay. They had to sleep outside and on the street. Somehow they heard about Haywood Street and found their way to us. They had also found a place that would house them since Monday. She wanted to be a companion and put herself to work immediately in the Clothing Closet. One of the benefits of the Clothing Closet is that the inventory turns over rapidly. One of the other companions had brought some beautiful knit shirts in many colors for us to put out. Our new friend from Montana found a lovely yellow one that set off her tan and suited her sunny personality, but she wanted to leave something in exchange. She left a beautiful pastel lilac backpack. Someone wanted it and she went upstairs to tell her husband that she had exchanged it for another bag so he wouldn't think someone had stolen the backpack from her. She arrived with a smile on her face and left with a bigger one. It was clear she has a spirit of open trust and generosity. I am hoping to catch some of that from her when I go back next week. I know she and her husband want work, but I hope she finds something to do that allows her to come back for Haywood Street's lunches and services.
Another worker that I met recently is not unhoused now, but she has faced the threat of it and has made her way without losing heart. She has a job and she lives in a community a good distance away, but on a bus line so she can come to Haywood Street to work. Her car had an expensive repair she couldn't afford so she gave up her car. That meant she couldn't keep the job she had as there wasn't public transportation to it and therefore could not make her housenote. She lost her house as well as her car. What a change in her life! She had never been without a car since she was a teenager or a house since she was an adult. She has a friend who helps her do heavy shopping on weekends since trying to carry groceries on the bus is difficult if she has more than a bag or two. I thought of my grandmother who never learned to drive a car. She worked as a secretary after her husband died of TB leaving her with four young children. Every day she rode the bus to town and back and when she got off the bus she went to the butcher and the green grocer for that night's dinner because that was all she could carry. Then she walked down an alley to her back door. My new acquaintance reminded me of that determination. If I wanted to make it sound romantic, I could say they were both very European, but I know what it is like to carry heavy groceries after a hard day of work from a car into a house. It is not romantic. I can only imagine what it was like to carry food many blocks.
Yes, it takes courage to sleep outside in sub-freezing temperatures, to endure thunder storms without shelter, to travel across the country on a rumor of work, and to restart life without transportation and a home. What they find at Haywood Street is an appreciation of their strength and a loving community that wants them to succeed.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Ankle holders
This day at Haywood Street was a trip to Hawaii complete with leis and a luau, pig's head and all. The meal was fun and the food, as always, was abundant and delicious, barbequed pork, rice, potatoes, mixed green salad, fruit salad, and corn bread. To drink was mango punch and tea. Lots of people enjoyed seconds of the pork. It was barbequed at the church yesterday.
I went to the Clothes Closet to work when I arrived. Anthony had unloaded the boxes of clothes I had dropped off on Saturday and the clothes closet looked great. We had some baby things to unload and put away, but except for those, there was very little to do until other donations started arriving. We had two new companions in the closet, Nicole and Mary. Nicole has lived in Asheville for quite awhile, but Mary and her husband had just arrived on Friday from Montana. Along with Lora and Marie we all worked hard. To have just arrived, Mary fit right in. It was a pleasure to meet these two new workers.
I am learning what happens to some of the people who end up without housing. Most of the time it is losing a job that starts the dominoes falling. Finding another is often very difficult from a state of unemployment. Sometimes losing a job happens because a mode of transportation like a car is too expensive to repair or keep up and there is no means of transportation to reach the old job. From there a house may be lost. Illness also precipitates loss of a job and then a place to stay. So far I have not encountered addiction as a reason for losing a home. Instead addiction came after the string of losses. Many at Haywood Street have climbed out of their spiral with the support of the community. Everyone rejoices when someone gets housing, but being homeless is not something to hold anyone back from being loved and cared for. The stories of the whys and how comes are myriad. The simple stereotyping of those who are unhoused is a way to distance ourselves from the possibilities that it could happen to us.
Brian's Scripture today was Acts 1: 1 - 11. Luke begins to tell the story of Jesus's Ascension and what happens to the Apostles afterward to Theodophilus. I am disappointed to say that I had no pen or paper to take notes today. Brian had so many choice words to say and metaphors he used. However, he began by discussing that every church has some ankle holders that try to hold Jesus down and attempt to make God smaller and less powerful and loving than He is. They limit other Christians from letting their "faith have feet." We can't just study the Word and think and pray about the Word; we have to live the Word. The question today was why was the Ascension important? There were many answers. Jesus had to ascend to the Father so the Holy Spirit could come. His physical presence did not allow his followers to expand their faith. He went to prepare a place for us. He showed us how he'd return and what we would do one day. The congregation was totally immersed in understanding the Ascension, something we rarely study in Sunday School. Brian shared that it is the Holy Spirit working within us and through us that brings about the Kingdom. The Apostles, even though they had spent 40 days with him learning everything He knew about God, still asked Jesus when the Kingdom was coming. They did understand even then that He would give them power, but it would be His kind of power to heal, to bless, and to spread the Word that God loved them and was always with them through the Holy Spirit. So rise up was the call before Brian spoke and afterward.
I met Brian's father today. He and the church lady dog, Penny, sat behind me. I said, "I bet you are proud of Brian." He said, "Yes I am proud, but it is most important that he is doing what he loves." How wise he is! Though Brian's father has blue eyes, I see a deep resemblance in their souls.
I went to the Clothes Closet to work when I arrived. Anthony had unloaded the boxes of clothes I had dropped off on Saturday and the clothes closet looked great. We had some baby things to unload and put away, but except for those, there was very little to do until other donations started arriving. We had two new companions in the closet, Nicole and Mary. Nicole has lived in Asheville for quite awhile, but Mary and her husband had just arrived on Friday from Montana. Along with Lora and Marie we all worked hard. To have just arrived, Mary fit right in. It was a pleasure to meet these two new workers.
I am learning what happens to some of the people who end up without housing. Most of the time it is losing a job that starts the dominoes falling. Finding another is often very difficult from a state of unemployment. Sometimes losing a job happens because a mode of transportation like a car is too expensive to repair or keep up and there is no means of transportation to reach the old job. From there a house may be lost. Illness also precipitates loss of a job and then a place to stay. So far I have not encountered addiction as a reason for losing a home. Instead addiction came after the string of losses. Many at Haywood Street have climbed out of their spiral with the support of the community. Everyone rejoices when someone gets housing, but being homeless is not something to hold anyone back from being loved and cared for. The stories of the whys and how comes are myriad. The simple stereotyping of those who are unhoused is a way to distance ourselves from the possibilities that it could happen to us.
Brian's Scripture today was Acts 1: 1 - 11. Luke begins to tell the story of Jesus's Ascension and what happens to the Apostles afterward to Theodophilus. I am disappointed to say that I had no pen or paper to take notes today. Brian had so many choice words to say and metaphors he used. However, he began by discussing that every church has some ankle holders that try to hold Jesus down and attempt to make God smaller and less powerful and loving than He is. They limit other Christians from letting their "faith have feet." We can't just study the Word and think and pray about the Word; we have to live the Word. The question today was why was the Ascension important? There were many answers. Jesus had to ascend to the Father so the Holy Spirit could come. His physical presence did not allow his followers to expand their faith. He went to prepare a place for us. He showed us how he'd return and what we would do one day. The congregation was totally immersed in understanding the Ascension, something we rarely study in Sunday School. Brian shared that it is the Holy Spirit working within us and through us that brings about the Kingdom. The Apostles, even though they had spent 40 days with him learning everything He knew about God, still asked Jesus when the Kingdom was coming. They did understand even then that He would give them power, but it would be His kind of power to heal, to bless, and to spread the Word that God loved them and was always with them through the Holy Spirit. So rise up was the call before Brian spoke and afterward.
I met Brian's father today. He and the church lady dog, Penny, sat behind me. I said, "I bet you are proud of Brian." He said, "Yes I am proud, but it is most important that he is doing what he loves." How wise he is! Though Brian's father has blue eyes, I see a deep resemblance in their souls.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Holy Disruption
This is May 12, not May 8, the last day I visited Haywood Street Congregation. After spending the day doing my usual and then some of hanging clothes at the Clothes Closet and scrubbing the stainless steel appliances and walls in the kitchen, I thought about the sermon I heard in between. Brian talked about Acts 16 and the story of Lydia. In it Paul experienced a "holy disruption" that sent him to Macedonia instead of to Ephesus, as he had planned. When I got home, I experienced my own disruption, hopefully a holy one. A good friend called and reported that an upcoming visit would have to be postponed - the friend will have to have surgery instead. We are sad our friend can't join us to fish, but we are even more dismayed that our friend would have to go through surgery. He has been through much in the last five years. This has stopped me in my tracks and I didn't get this blog written.
What is a Holy Disruption? It is when you are going about doing what you think is God's will and suddenly God taps you on the shoulder and sends you in a different direction. Frederick Buechner says that these disruptions are desirable, in fact, they should be sought. I am beginning to understand that some disruptions are easy to feel and see as blessings, and some are the catastrophes we try to avoid but can't. What makes them "holy" is the attitude of the one who experiences them. Looking for God where you least expect Him is what it is all about. Disruptions give us a time to stop, look, and listen more carefully.
Paul had a dream of a man in Macedonia pleading with him to come, so Paul reported to Timothy and to Silas they were going to change their plans and go. They did. When they got there, they were told the worshipers were outside the gate by the river. There he found a group of God fearers, Greeks who believed in God, and they were also women. Lydia, one of the women was a woman who dealt in purple cloth. The Spirit of Jesus opened Lydia's heart after listening to Paul preach. She and her household were all baptized and she invited Paul to meet in her home. Lydia had the first home church in Europe.
It is important to know some things about the Scripture. First Paul listened and responded. It is really important to hear that the worshipers were outside the gate which probably meant they were not allowed in the city. There were very few Jews in the area so there was no synagogue. The group were women. That is unusual because in order to meet and expect God to be there in the early church ten men had to meet together for God to be present. Paul ignored that they were women which for Paul was unique. Then there is the matter of who Lydia was. She dealt in purple cloth. It takes 12,000 sea urchins to make a few drops of purple dye. Therefore purple cloth was only sold to the very, very wealthy and powerful. Lydia dealt with those people daily. Her entire household was baptized. In the early church if a man was ordained his wife was also so family baptism would have been another extension of families worshiping together. Not only that He remained with them as they met in Lydia's house church. This holy disruption led to the founding of a church and the baptism of a group of Greek women. God appears in unlikely places and doesn't follow man's rules. It is important to expect the unexpected and open to the presence of God.
What is a Holy Disruption? It is when you are going about doing what you think is God's will and suddenly God taps you on the shoulder and sends you in a different direction. Frederick Buechner says that these disruptions are desirable, in fact, they should be sought. I am beginning to understand that some disruptions are easy to feel and see as blessings, and some are the catastrophes we try to avoid but can't. What makes them "holy" is the attitude of the one who experiences them. Looking for God where you least expect Him is what it is all about. Disruptions give us a time to stop, look, and listen more carefully.
Paul had a dream of a man in Macedonia pleading with him to come, so Paul reported to Timothy and to Silas they were going to change their plans and go. They did. When they got there, they were told the worshipers were outside the gate by the river. There he found a group of God fearers, Greeks who believed in God, and they were also women. Lydia, one of the women was a woman who dealt in purple cloth. The Spirit of Jesus opened Lydia's heart after listening to Paul preach. She and her household were all baptized and she invited Paul to meet in her home. Lydia had the first home church in Europe.
It is important to know some things about the Scripture. First Paul listened and responded. It is really important to hear that the worshipers were outside the gate which probably meant they were not allowed in the city. There were very few Jews in the area so there was no synagogue. The group were women. That is unusual because in order to meet and expect God to be there in the early church ten men had to meet together for God to be present. Paul ignored that they were women which for Paul was unique. Then there is the matter of who Lydia was. She dealt in purple cloth. It takes 12,000 sea urchins to make a few drops of purple dye. Therefore purple cloth was only sold to the very, very wealthy and powerful. Lydia dealt with those people daily. Her entire household was baptized. In the early church if a man was ordained his wife was also so family baptism would have been another extension of families worshiping together. Not only that He remained with them as they met in Lydia's house church. This holy disruption led to the founding of a church and the baptism of a group of Greek women. God appears in unlikely places and doesn't follow man's rules. It is important to expect the unexpected and open to the presence of God.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Everyone Gets to Eat at the Table
I ran late today. This was the third morning when I got up at closer to my old wake up time. My body just didn't want to move very rapidly so I got away from home late. However, there was help at Haywood Street when I arrived and others brought in the three big boxes and one large bag filled with clothes.
Phyllis and Karla and Linda were there from Mars Hill. Lora and Marie were back and busy. Someone had changed everything the day before. Phyllis took the overflow of winter clothes to Goodwill. I won't bring anything like a coat from now on even though we had several people come asking for coats. They sleep in them. It is still cold here at night. Phyllis went to her car and looked for the right size since she had already loaded the winter boxes into her trunk. We found a big plastic box full of children's shoes and a few adult women shoes and a few athletic shoes. The shoe lookers are looking for sandals now and there were only two or three pair of them.
The bags were gone and boxes of Kleenex went quickly along with toilet paper. Diapers and ladies'sanitary products were in much demand as were socks and hats. There are no socks in the drawers except infant socks for newborns which I brought. So much to provide . . .
At 11:30 I went to the dining hall to find someone to ask about the pink purse luncheon next Friday. Dee told me she'd connect me with someone. The lady who looked so familiar and I discovered how we knew one another -- she and her husband used to go to Weaverville UMC. She said they liked Linda very much, but that the church was not involved in much mission work at the time and they wanted a contemporary service. I told her the church was now very much involved in mission work, had lots of young families, a great youth group, and had started a contemporary service. She said her husband was committed to the choir in the church they attend so they wouldn't change now, but she was glad that WUMC was moving in all those directions. We never discovered the woman responsible for the Pink Purse affair so I asked Shannon to put me in touch and she said she would.
Lunch was delicious, as usual. It was a Greek meal, Greek salad, wild rice, braised fish, marinated veggies, pita and tzaziki, and peach cobbler a la mode. I sat at the table of Sarah in the back and around me gathered quite a group. The young black man with the great colored glasses came first. His glasses are just frames, no glass in them. They were orange last week. Today they were lime green. He was very sweet. He had eaten with the first seating and was back for more. That is not encouraged, just because there are limited chairs for each seating, but no one cared. They encourage people to get second and third helpings instead of going away and coming back. This young man was a strapping youth and I am sure it took two plates of food to fill him. Around the rest of the table were several women and quite a few men. One young woman reminded me of my aunt Margaret except she was prettier. I was confounded to discover that there were two young women that reminded me of Margaret. I am going to have to study their features so I don't get them confused.
The chair to my left was empty until just before the blessing. A nice looking young man of about 30+ took it eventually. He had on a University of GA t-shirt with a ballpoint pen stuck in the collar. He was not clean shaven, but he was clean cut looking. I asked him how he came to be there this day. I expected him to say he was a friend of Brian's and had been out of town and hadn't been to lunch for a couple of weeks. Instead, he said he had been to get food stamps and the man had told him how to get to Haywood Street and that they had lunch every Wednesday. He said he was just learning about how to get along without money. Something about that rang true. He said he was working out of town, had his laptop and phone stolen, and then the company he worked for couldn't pay him for his orders because they were not sent in when he lost the laptop. He barely made it to Asheville with the money he had. I told him about the Clothes Closet, the library, the haircuts upstairs, and the acupuncture that would be back next week. We could see the garden out the back windows and I told him they were going to have chickens soon to supply fresh eggs. He asked about the table names. I said something to him about Emmaus Walks and how the tables there are named. He said that it was funny. He had talked to his dad in Florida and he was going to an Emmaus Walk service at Asbury Lake this past weekend. He wasn't familiar with it beyond that, but then he wondered if it was like the Criseo(that may be misspelled) that his Episcopal church sponsored when he was younger. I said it was. I said that the tables remind us that these meals are like Emmaus Walks where we encounter Christ in strange and new places. I even said who would have thought he'd be having a wonderful meal at a church on a Wed. at lunchtime. He laughed and said he certainly wouldn't have. He wanted to know what time the service was on Sunday. I explained it wasn't on Sunday. It was today a few minutes from then. I described the service and Brian and told him I hoped he'd come upstairs when he'd finished dessert, but I never saw him again. I hope he comes back. He's searching. Losing his laptop, though very awful, may be a blessing if he lets it be. I told him about Brian taking a group to Habitat on Thurs. Maybe he'll come back and help there.
Then I went upstairs for the service. Edward was playing and the church slowly filled. It was full soon, but it took it awhile. The first hymn was "Spirit of the Living God" and Edward played it once with the singing and then he conducted the congregation a capello. It was very lovely. The liturgy was about being a friend of Haywood Street Congregation. It was a commitment to claim it, covenant before God and our neighbors to walk in Jesus footsteps, pledge to share our divine gifts in this fellowship of manna and mercy, and promise to welcome all with the love of Christ.
Then Brian passed the church registry, a piece of paper on a clipboard. This was new to me.
Prayers were offered and Shannon directed that. Then a man sang the Confession of Faith and the congregation repeated the song. Shannon reminded us that we confess so that we can release all the burdens of our sins and those that others have put on us and feel the love of God.
The Word was from Acts 11:1-18, "Why did you go and eat with them?"
It was about Peter being called before the mother church in Jerusalem to explain himself. He had been eating with Gentiles and the church was upset. Good Jews did not eat with Gentiles and the early Christians were mostly Jews, especially those in Jerusalem. He didn't deny the charge, or explain it, or argue about it. He told a story about his own experience, seeing in a trance God telling him it was okay to eat whatever was offered, that there was nothing profane. Then a man, Cornelius, had sent for him and he had gone to him in Caesarea. The Spirit told Peter to go to Cornelius and when he arrived the Holy Spirit fell upon his household just as it had fallen upon the Apostles at Pentecost. When the church heard this, they were silenced. They said, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life." Brian told his story about being a boy who ate with his father and he started picking up trash at McDonald's on his way out the door. A man stopped him and told him a black woman with a uniform was being paid to do that and black people were put on this earth to clean up after whites. Brian's father told the man the woman was certainly doing her work, but that it was okay for Brian to do what he was doing and for him not to denigrate the woman. He also told the man not to ever say such a bigoted thing to his son again. There are no colors in God's eyes that separate us and no food that defiles us. The Church was converted that day by Peter's story.
A man was in the congregation who wanted to thank the church for baking the cookies for the prisoners at Marion. They baked 2700 cookies over the weekend and they are going to be delivered this next weekend.
In Haywood Street there is no East or West or North or South. It is one great fellowship of love. They feed the hungry, cloth the poor, visit the prisoner, and proclaim the love of God to everyone. It is a strange and wonderful place.
Phyllis and Karla and Linda were there from Mars Hill. Lora and Marie were back and busy. Someone had changed everything the day before. Phyllis took the overflow of winter clothes to Goodwill. I won't bring anything like a coat from now on even though we had several people come asking for coats. They sleep in them. It is still cold here at night. Phyllis went to her car and looked for the right size since she had already loaded the winter boxes into her trunk. We found a big plastic box full of children's shoes and a few adult women shoes and a few athletic shoes. The shoe lookers are looking for sandals now and there were only two or three pair of them.
The bags were gone and boxes of Kleenex went quickly along with toilet paper. Diapers and ladies'sanitary products were in much demand as were socks and hats. There are no socks in the drawers except infant socks for newborns which I brought. So much to provide . . .
At 11:30 I went to the dining hall to find someone to ask about the pink purse luncheon next Friday. Dee told me she'd connect me with someone. The lady who looked so familiar and I discovered how we knew one another -- she and her husband used to go to Weaverville UMC. She said they liked Linda very much, but that the church was not involved in much mission work at the time and they wanted a contemporary service. I told her the church was now very much involved in mission work, had lots of young families, a great youth group, and had started a contemporary service. She said her husband was committed to the choir in the church they attend so they wouldn't change now, but she was glad that WUMC was moving in all those directions. We never discovered the woman responsible for the Pink Purse affair so I asked Shannon to put me in touch and she said she would.
Lunch was delicious, as usual. It was a Greek meal, Greek salad, wild rice, braised fish, marinated veggies, pita and tzaziki, and peach cobbler a la mode. I sat at the table of Sarah in the back and around me gathered quite a group. The young black man with the great colored glasses came first. His glasses are just frames, no glass in them. They were orange last week. Today they were lime green. He was very sweet. He had eaten with the first seating and was back for more. That is not encouraged, just because there are limited chairs for each seating, but no one cared. They encourage people to get second and third helpings instead of going away and coming back. This young man was a strapping youth and I am sure it took two plates of food to fill him. Around the rest of the table were several women and quite a few men. One young woman reminded me of my aunt Margaret except she was prettier. I was confounded to discover that there were two young women that reminded me of Margaret. I am going to have to study their features so I don't get them confused.
The chair to my left was empty until just before the blessing. A nice looking young man of about 30+ took it eventually. He had on a University of GA t-shirt with a ballpoint pen stuck in the collar. He was not clean shaven, but he was clean cut looking. I asked him how he came to be there this day. I expected him to say he was a friend of Brian's and had been out of town and hadn't been to lunch for a couple of weeks. Instead, he said he had been to get food stamps and the man had told him how to get to Haywood Street and that they had lunch every Wednesday. He said he was just learning about how to get along without money. Something about that rang true. He said he was working out of town, had his laptop and phone stolen, and then the company he worked for couldn't pay him for his orders because they were not sent in when he lost the laptop. He barely made it to Asheville with the money he had. I told him about the Clothes Closet, the library, the haircuts upstairs, and the acupuncture that would be back next week. We could see the garden out the back windows and I told him they were going to have chickens soon to supply fresh eggs. He asked about the table names. I said something to him about Emmaus Walks and how the tables there are named. He said that it was funny. He had talked to his dad in Florida and he was going to an Emmaus Walk service at Asbury Lake this past weekend. He wasn't familiar with it beyond that, but then he wondered if it was like the Criseo(that may be misspelled) that his Episcopal church sponsored when he was younger. I said it was. I said that the tables remind us that these meals are like Emmaus Walks where we encounter Christ in strange and new places. I even said who would have thought he'd be having a wonderful meal at a church on a Wed. at lunchtime. He laughed and said he certainly wouldn't have. He wanted to know what time the service was on Sunday. I explained it wasn't on Sunday. It was today a few minutes from then. I described the service and Brian and told him I hoped he'd come upstairs when he'd finished dessert, but I never saw him again. I hope he comes back. He's searching. Losing his laptop, though very awful, may be a blessing if he lets it be. I told him about Brian taking a group to Habitat on Thurs. Maybe he'll come back and help there.
Then I went upstairs for the service. Edward was playing and the church slowly filled. It was full soon, but it took it awhile. The first hymn was "Spirit of the Living God" and Edward played it once with the singing and then he conducted the congregation a capello. It was very lovely. The liturgy was about being a friend of Haywood Street Congregation. It was a commitment to claim it, covenant before God and our neighbors to walk in Jesus footsteps, pledge to share our divine gifts in this fellowship of manna and mercy, and promise to welcome all with the love of Christ.
Then Brian passed the church registry, a piece of paper on a clipboard. This was new to me.
Prayers were offered and Shannon directed that. Then a man sang the Confession of Faith and the congregation repeated the song. Shannon reminded us that we confess so that we can release all the burdens of our sins and those that others have put on us and feel the love of God.
The Word was from Acts 11:1-18, "Why did you go and eat with them?"
It was about Peter being called before the mother church in Jerusalem to explain himself. He had been eating with Gentiles and the church was upset. Good Jews did not eat with Gentiles and the early Christians were mostly Jews, especially those in Jerusalem. He didn't deny the charge, or explain it, or argue about it. He told a story about his own experience, seeing in a trance God telling him it was okay to eat whatever was offered, that there was nothing profane. Then a man, Cornelius, had sent for him and he had gone to him in Caesarea. The Spirit told Peter to go to Cornelius and when he arrived the Holy Spirit fell upon his household just as it had fallen upon the Apostles at Pentecost. When the church heard this, they were silenced. They said, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life." Brian told his story about being a boy who ate with his father and he started picking up trash at McDonald's on his way out the door. A man stopped him and told him a black woman with a uniform was being paid to do that and black people were put on this earth to clean up after whites. Brian's father told the man the woman was certainly doing her work, but that it was okay for Brian to do what he was doing and for him not to denigrate the woman. He also told the man not to ever say such a bigoted thing to his son again. There are no colors in God's eyes that separate us and no food that defiles us. The Church was converted that day by Peter's story.
A man was in the congregation who wanted to thank the church for baking the cookies for the prisoners at Marion. They baked 2700 cookies over the weekend and they are going to be delivered this next weekend.
In Haywood Street there is no East or West or North or South. It is one great fellowship of love. They feed the hungry, cloth the poor, visit the prisoner, and proclaim the love of God to everyone. It is a strange and wonderful place.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)