Tuesday, November 20, 2007
"I was hungry,
and you formed a humanities group to discuss my hunger.
I was imprisoned,
and you crept off quietly to your chapel and prayed for my release.
I was naked,
and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance.
I was sick,
and you knelt and thanked God for your health.
I was homeless,
and you preached to me of the spiritual shelter of the love of God.
I was lonely,
and you left me alone to pray for me.
You seem so holy, so close to God
but I am still very hungry and lonely and cold. "
written by a homeless woman and taken from John Stott’s book “Human Rights & Human Wrongs: Major issues for a new century"
This is based on the biblical passage of Matthew 25:35-36 . As the evangelicals say: "The larger passage in which these verses occur describes God’s final judgment of the nations in apocalyptic terms: when God will have prevailed over the forces of evil, everybody will be judged on equal terms. Who will be saved? The text is unambiguous with the answer: those who have ministered to Christ, even if unaware of it, by feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, and caring for the sick and the prisoner."
I am not a Christian and I am not concerned at all about God's final judgment. If there is a heaven or a hell it is right here - right now. If I am to do the right thing, it is to create whatever heaven is possible here where we live. Some people might say that caring for others is the Christian thing to do - as if one theology has the hold on acts of decency. On the other hand, although the above poem was aimed at a Christian, it very well could have been aimed at a Unitarian Universalist or a Muslim or a neo-pagan or a Jew or an atheist (well - OK - you would have to translate the "praying" part probably).
That said - it has become a tradition (this is the third year) that our family goes out on Thanksgiving and feeds the people who do not make it to the shelters or who do not want to step into a church or who simply, for whatever reason physical or mental, are not going to make it to a sit-down meal. We go under bridges and overpasses. We go to the "worst" part of town where we have found that people are just like us. They have dignity. They have gratitude. They have pain and suffering and memories of Thanksgivings past. They have stories.
Sometimes the people that we meet on Thanksgiving have formed small communities to keep themselves safe. Sometimes they are wandering alone with all of their worldly possessions with them. Sometimes they are sitting on the grass in a park- too strung out to eat now but they take the food for later or for a friend who is coming back soon. Sometimes they don't want the food - they just want to be left alone. Sometimes they don't speak English. Sometimes they are passed out or sleeping and we leave the food wrapped next to them for later.
We feed homeless people at other times throughout the year - locally in Santa Cruz through our church and at impromptu times when the need confronts us. Personally, I wish we could go out every day and do this - listen to stories and find common ground and see the smiles of people when Pk asks if they want whipped cream on their dessert. But we use Thanksgiving as the excuse - a time when we have no other commitments - when Dani doesn't have to work. We will start baking today - pumpkin bread this year instead of pie because I don't want to add more plastic forks to the streets of San Francisco. Tomorrow, Dani will bake two turkeys and mounds of stuffing. I will make my mother's infamous cranberry orange relish and then on Thursday, the three of us will all set up an assembly line in the kitchen to make 50 stuffed sandwiches put onto plates with the pumpkin bread. In the past, we have served juice but there were several requests last year for water- so water it is. We hit the streets at noon.
We are so grateful for people who have contributed to our efforts (feel free to join them!) Last year, we were joined by Dani's mother and our friend Lynnee Breedlove and her partner Stephanie. This year, we will be joined by our friend Ren and one of her daughters as we distribute food and look people in the eyes in hopes of sharing our common humanity.
.
.
In a story related to the above poem - one of Dani's cousins is being released from prison where he has spent nearly his entire adult life. I truly hope that he will feel comfortable to live with us and start a new life. We will go visit him in prison this weekend to make the offer.
That said - it has become a tradition (this is the third year) that our family goes out on Thanksgiving and feeds the people who do not make it to the shelters or who do not want to step into a church or who simply, for whatever reason physical or mental, are not going to make it to a sit-down meal. We go under bridges and overpasses. We go to the "worst" part of town where we have found that people are just like us. They have dignity. They have gratitude. They have pain and suffering and memories of Thanksgivings past. They have stories.
Sometimes the people that we meet on Thanksgiving have formed small communities to keep themselves safe. Sometimes they are wandering alone with all of their worldly possessions with them. Sometimes they are sitting on the grass in a park- too strung out to eat now but they take the food for later or for a friend who is coming back soon. Sometimes they don't want the food - they just want to be left alone. Sometimes they don't speak English. Sometimes they are passed out or sleeping and we leave the food wrapped next to them for later.We feed homeless people at other times throughout the year - locally in Santa Cruz through our church and at impromptu times when the need confronts us. Personally, I wish we could go out every day and do this - listen to stories and find common ground and see the smiles of people when Pk asks if they want whipped cream on their dessert. But we use Thanksgiving as the excuse - a time when we have no other commitments - when Dani doesn't have to work. We will start baking today - pumpkin bread this year instead of pie because I don't want to add more plastic forks to the streets of San Francisco. Tomorrow, Dani will bake two turkeys and mounds of stuffing. I will make my mother's infamous cranberry orange relish and then on Thursday, the three of us will all set up an assembly line in the kitchen to make 50 stuffed sandwiches put onto plates with the pumpkin bread. In the past, we have served juice but there were several requests last year for water- so water it is. We hit the streets at noon.
We are so grateful for people who have contributed to our efforts (feel free to join them!) Last year, we were joined by Dani's mother and our friend Lynnee Breedlove and her partner Stephanie. This year, we will be joined by our friend Ren and one of her daughters as we distribute food and look people in the eyes in hopes of sharing our common humanity.
.
.
In a story related to the above poem - one of Dani's cousins is being released from prison where he has spent nearly his entire adult life. I truly hope that he will feel comfortable to live with us and start a new life. We will go visit him in prison this weekend to make the offer.
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