My church, Grace Community on West Lee Street, is struggling with how to answer the question: How do we love our homeless neighbors? Grace is known for serving the poor and homeless. We have a weekly community dinner for the homeless, a financial assistance ministry, a permanent supportive housing ministry (moving people from homelessness to housing), and a yearly Christmas Banquet for our homeless friends.  We have members involved in urban mission projects, street outreach ministries, the Ten Year Plan to End Homelessness, the homeless coalition, the day center initiative, as well as close friendships with homeless and formerly homeless people. But one of the biggest struggles that our church faces is how to love and serve the homeless neighbors who sleep on our church property every night. (It’s not just the sleeping that’s a problem. It’s the mental health and addiction issues, sanitation problems, liability concerns, sex offenders sleeping at a place frequented by children, etc. But that’s another post.)

Shepherding Pastor Will Dungee spoke about it at the end of a recent sermon:

[Listen to all of the sermon, "Who Is My Neighbor?," here.]

When he said all that about the Holy Spirit speaking to us in the church about what we should do, I wanted to stand up and read Isaiah 58, which talks about true worship and says, in part, “Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless.” (My blog gets its name from Isaiah 58.) But I didn’t stand up. I sat there and prayed instead. Because I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to read it. And I have a lot of questions and a lot of concerns about our response to our homeless neighbors, but I don’t even pretend to have the answers.

After the service, the first person I saw was Pastor Will, and he immediately asked what I thought of what he’d said about our friends. I told him that I was really struggling with us having this big heated and cooled building that we only fully utilize a couple of times a week, while our friends sleep outside. And then I started crying and I ran to the bathroom. (I know, that sounds so lame. It’s embarrassing for me to write it. I almost never cry. But this has been getting to me for a while, and when Will asked me about it, I just kind of lost it for a minute. But you know what? I want my heart to break for every single thing that breaks God’s heart, so hey, maybe it’s just a God thing that I cried about it.)

I haven’t had a chance to talk to Will since then.  I know that he and our other pastors and elders are struggling with what to do.  I talked to a friend of mine about it.  Here’s how our conversation went:

Audrie: “If we opened up every single church in Greensboro, nobody would be homeless. Nobody would be hungry.”

CM: “What’s the worst thing that could happen if we let homeless people sleep in our church?”

Audrie: “Somebody might smoke crack in the bathroom. Or have sex.”

CM: “And then what? I mean… so…?”

Audrie: “Yeah.”

Audrie: “You can stand up and speak in a meeting in front of the mayor but you won’t stand up in your church?  I think the prompting of the Holy Spirit was there.  What would have happened if you’d responded?  You would have stood up and read the passage and sat back down and everybody would have looked at you like you were psycho.  Just like they did with Jesus.  What’s the difference?”

CM.: “[Sigh.] I know.”

Audrie: “There’s injustice here!  And we’re calling ourselves Christians?  Hello!  Open the doors to the church!”

I used to be bold. She is kicking my butt on boldness these days. I need to pray…

I’m really thankful that my church is struggling with this situation. Some churches don’t struggle with the poor or homeless at all — they don’t have any connection to them or they don’t acknowledge them.  So I think it’s a blessing that we’re where we are as a church, and it’s an honor to be given the opportunity to love and serve our homeless neighbors.  As Pastor Will says, “The bottom line is, we have to love…” And what a gift that is.  Amen.

Please pray for us at Grace as we seek the LORD on what it looks like for us to love our homeless neighbors the way that Jesus wants us to.

UPDATE, 11/10/2008: It looks like our church is going to be an emergency shelter location this winter. I’ll be writing more about this, but I wanted to come back and update this post. I’m so excited about what God is doing at our church, and how He’s growing and using us to serve homeless and hungry people!

UPDATE, 07/18/2009: Our church housed a winter emergency shelter for women from December through April, and plans are already underway for next winter. Church staff and volunteers helped most of the women who stayed at the winter shelter move on to other transitional or permanent housing situations after they left the winter shelter. This was an excellent, growing, challenging experience for our church body, and I continue to pray about the future…

There are audio gaps in a few places (present in the original recording) and the recording ends a few moments before Nuckols’ talk did. Those flaws aside, this audio recording is an excellent resource for revealing truth about crack cocaine and crack addiction.

>> See also, “The 7 Stages of Crack Cocaine Use”

This afternoon I went to visit two of my homeless friends who are in the hospital.

Elijah* is in ICU. The fiery animation is gone from his face, his hands, his frame. He is fragile. Defenseless. Ethereal. He didn’t respond when I spoke to him and prayed for him. I left him alone, as I found him.

Dutch* seemed relieved to see me. His neck brace framed his smile. The car that hit him broke his bones, but his spirit endures. He’s thankful for the visitors he’s had, and for the kindness of the nurses, but he’s already wondering where he’ll go when it’s time to leave. “You know what I’m worried about,” he said to me. “Maintaining my lifestyle. I’m on my own.”

Tonight I’m at home, thinking, praying, listening to Rich Mullins. He lived what he believed, and he wrote what I feel:

“You who live in heaven
Hear the prayers of those of us who live on earth
Who are afraid of being left by those we love
And who get hardened by the hurt
Do you remember when You lived down here where we all scrape
To find the faith to ask for daily bread
Did You forget about us after You had flown away
Well I memorized every word You said
Still I’m so scared I’m holding my breath
While You’re up there just playing hard to get

You who live in radiance
Hear the prayers of those of us who live in skin
We have a love that’s not as patient as Yours was
Still we do love now and then
Did You ever know loneliness
Did You ever know need
Do You remember just how long a night can get?
When You were barely holding on
And Your friends fall asleep
And don’t see the blood that’s running in Your sweat
Will those who mourn be left uncomforted
While You’re up there just playing hard to get?

And I know you bore our sorrows
And I know you feel our pain
And I know it would not hurt any less
Even if it could be explained
And I know that I am only lashing out
At the One who loves me most
And after I figured this somehow
All I really need to know is if

You who live in eternity
Hear the prayers of those of us who live in time
We can’t see what’s ahead
And we can not get free of what we’ve left behind
I’m reeling from these voices that keep screaming in my ears
All the words of shame and doubt blame and regret
I can’t see how You’re leading me unless You’ve led me here
Where I’m lost enough to let myself be led
And so You’ve been here all along I guess
It’s just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get

– Rich Mullins, “Hard To Get,” The Jesus Demos

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Update, 07/11/2006:

Elijah: No real change in his condition. I don’t know if he realizes I’m there when I visit, but I hope so. I’ve learned more about what’s wrong with him and I’m trying to find out how it happened. I’ll share if and when I can. I still don’t know if he’s going to be OK.

Dutch: He’s doing a little better. I brought him word find books and crossword puzzles to pass the time. He doesn’t like to watch TV. A number of people are working together to find him a place to go when he’s discharged. It’s complicated. And still unsettled. What do people do when they don’t have an advocate? [pause] Actually, I already know the answer to that. [sigh]

Please continue to pray for these men, for their healing and for their futures. I’m continuing to learn about how the system works (or doesn’t) for homeless people. It makes me sad and tired. But systems are made of people and people can change, right? Oh well, one rock at a time…

* * * * *

*At least for now, I’ve chosen not to use their real names. But God knows their names, so please pray for them. He’ll know.