Worlds Collide

This week had a much different dynamic than the past two. One group was from a church in Murfreesboro, TN and the other two were from Community Church Without Walls and East Lake, two inner-city Birmingham churches. When the groups pulled up, I immediately became nervous about how they would all interact with one another.

Unfortunately, I felt like I had been transported back to the 1960’s on the first night when after the evening program was done there was a very clear line down the middle of the room separating the groups into the white kids and the black kids. I became even more discouraged when during evening programming on the next night the youth minister from Murfreesboro completely turned his back and ignored a groups of inner city kids when the groups were told to combine into one larger group.

On Monday I went with a group to Highlands United Methodist Church in Five Points. We served nearly 140 homeless individuals bagels, coffee, fruit, and juice. Highlands has a wonderful homeless ministry and is doing great things to reach out to the homeless population in Birmingham. Volunteers serve breakfast six days a week at 9 a.m. There is also a clothes closet where people can get clothes as well as a laundry service where people can have a load of laundry done every week. Because many do not have a permanent address, people can choose to have their mail delivered to the church. Highlands also has an I.D. ministry. They help people who are homeless and no longer have documents such as a birth certificate or social security card get a new copy. Without these documents it is impossible to get into many treatment programs or get many available jobs.

Even though getting to serve breakfast was a humbling experience, getting to sit down and talk with many of the individuals was even more humbling. The first man I met was a man named Herman. Herman reminded me of Nathaniel Ayers, the main character in the movie The Soloist. Herman and Nathanial are both rather eccentric in their choice of clothing. Herman had on short, colorful shorts that reminded me of something a professional wrestler might wear. Combine that with the British flag tied around his waist, over-sized leather vest, and shin-high leather wrappings on his legs and you've got a Nathaniel look alike. I’m not sure if he’s ever been diagnosed, but Herman spoke in long, unrelated sentences as if he too was schizophrenic like Nathaniel. After hearing about his wife, eight children, and how much he hated Birmingham, I left Herman to continue his job of making sure no one stole the sugar canisters at the coffee table. He took his job very seriously.

If you haven’t seen The Soloist, I highly recommend it. Here’s the link to the trailer. http://www.soloistmovie.com/

After getting the scoop on Herman’s life story, I talked with Kesha and Raquel. Kesha looked to be in her mid fifties, Raquel in her late twenties. We talked about the weather and other surfaced things. As we talked different people would walk by. “That’s my nephew,” Kesha would say. “That’s my brother,” Raquel would point out. I guess the confusion on my face was evident because Raquel turned to me and explained that everyone who lives on the streets is family. “On the streets, we really are family. We take care of one another. If one of us gets something that other people need, we share it. It’s not like the corporate world where people say, ‘That’s my doctor, my co-worker, my lawyer.’ On the streets we call each other brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. Sometimes I think we’re the lucky ones.”

I heard story after story of spending time in jail and being released only to find that everything had changed and there was nowhere for them to return. I heard stories of drug addictions, sleeping in doorways, and being assaulted by police officers just because they looked like drug addicts. The morning ended with two men playing the piano and flute together. For a moment, it seemed not like 140 homeless men and women surrounded me but that the world was exactly like God intended it to be. “Let the fellowship of Christ examine itself and see whether it has given any token of the love of Christ to the victims of the world’s contumely and contempt, any token of that love which seeks to preserve, support, and protect life,” says Bonhoeffer. I thank God for Highlands United Methodist church being a body willing to respond to a need, err on the side of grace, and be a people of faith instead of fear.

Later Monday afternoon we began work on Mr. Chambers house. Mr. Chambers is a recluse who suffers from seizures and is afraid to get behind the wheel of a car for fear of hurting himself or someone else. He rarely leaves his home. He looks a bit like the Unabomber, but I assure you their personalities are completely different.

For programming on Monday night we did a poverty exercise. In the United States, the poverty threshold for a family of four (including two children) is $21, 834. The goal of the exercise was for the kids to try and make a budget for various, unconventional families with a poverty threshold income. Many of the kids from West End and East Lake were from families much like the ones in the exercise. It was good for the kids from Murfreesboro and Birmingham to work together in the exercise and for their worlds to collide.

For information on poverty in Alabama visit www.alabamapoverty.org. Be sure to check out the facts and myths section! (P.S. – Alabama is the only state that has a tax on food – 4%. We tax our poor, but that’s another blog entirely.)

That night, the Berlin Wall again erected itself in the middle of the common room. After a fight had been broken up between Eric, a 4’10’’ 160 pound boy, and LaQuisha, a 5’11” 200 pound girl, one of the boys from East lake asked their leader as he looked across the forbidden line, “Don’t you sometimes wish you had a group like them, Cheryl?” She looked at him and said, “No! I had that once, and I chose you.” She had tears in her eyes when she told me the story. I don’t think I will every meet someone with more grace, patience and silent strength as Cheryl.

By Wednesday, my frustration and anger with the youth minister from Murfreesboro had become almost debilitating. His lack of interaction with and love for the kids from Birmingham had pushed me to my edge. Then I realized I was becoming idealistic, and I was no better than him. I didn’t love him the way I wanted him to love the Birmingham kids. It’s a dangerous place to be when you think you’ve got Christianity, love, and grace figured out. It’s as if we are equating ourselves to God when we do that. In a way, it’s easier for me to love the homeless man or the small child from West End than it is for me to love the privileged youth minister from suburbia. Yes, God calls us to love “the least of these,” but in doing that I don’t think he intended us to forget about those who have more in this life. So, I now step off of my ivory tower because when you’re up that high, there’s nothing left to do but fall.

Christianity knows no borders or people groups. In the words of Rob Bell, “We see all of the differences first, and only later, maybe, do we begin to see the similarities. There should be only one label: human. And, there should be only one response: love. With every action, comment, or gesture we are inviting either heaven or hell to earth regardless of whom we encounter.

One more week, and I’m beach bound. Peace and love.