Acceptable?

According to the author, editor and humorist Bennett Cerf, New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia would spend one day a month (I think it was) presiding over Magistrate's Court in his city. As Mayor, he was Chief Magistrate, and took that part of the job seriously. One day, a woman was brought before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She confessed, saying she had no other way to feed her family. He fined her $50, then suspended the sentence and found everyone else in the courtroom guilty of "living in a city where a woman has to steal to feed her family". Each person was fined $10 and the sheriff was ordered to take up the collection on the spot. Then he turned the money over to the woman.

As I arrived at The Lord's Rain Tuesday morning, I passed an old man sitting on a street-level window ledge. His eyes were closed and he was at least half asleep. He's a fixture in the area: a man who calls himself a Pastor and putters around the Downtown East Side, usually with a walker, proclaiming Jesus to anyone who'll listen. Sometimes he has a roof over his head; sometimes not. It appears this was one of those "not" nights.

Another frequent visitor at The Lord's Rain is a man named Bill. He's well into his 60s and spends his days pushing a shopping cart around the city -- I sometimes see him in the West End, which is a considerable distance from the DTES -- collecting bottles. "Good morning, Father," he says when he comes in for his coffee. (I'm not a Catholic priest, but that's his way of addressing a leader in a religious setting, so that's OK with me.) Bill has the most gentle spirit and has astounded doctors by bouncing back from a lung infection about a year and a half ago that the doctors were certain was going to kill him.

Last month, I was in Toronto, and stepped on the subway one time to find the too-familiar aroma of stale urine. It was coming from a man who was sound asleep, folded up in one of the seats. People in the same carriage seemed to look past, around or through him: but never at him.

WHY IS THIS ACCEPTABLE?

Why is it acceptable that men in their 60s and 70s, with long lives behind them -- and who maybe made a couple of mistakes here and there that proved costly in the long run -- have to collect bottles and cans and sleep in doorways, waiting for a free-coffee place to open up? Why is it acceptable for a man to sit in his own urine-reeked clothes on a subway while people try to imagine he's not there? Why is it acceptable for people to have to urinate and defecate in alleys while the leaders of the city -- one of the "World's Most Livable" and "Greenest" cities -- dither over how to provide public facilities for them? (Even to the extent of suggesting it's the responsibility of the transit authority, for the luvva Mike!)

And yet evidently it must be for some people, because the situation persists and even seems to get worse. Ignoring them and figuring someone else can help people has hardly been a resounding success; remember what Jesus said: "what you do to the least of these, you do to Me."

That would include ignoring them. Ignoring these people is tantamount to ignoring Jesus.

Selah.

And lest you think that rising up and saying THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE! involves some mammoth undertaking, consider the guy on the Toronto subway. As we got near my stop, I knelt down beside him and roused him to see if he was OK. He said he was. Then I told him I was praying for him. "It's all I can do," I said. I was almost ashamed to say it, but he looked up and smiled and said, "Thanks, man."

I don't know why I was ashamed: probably because I didn't have a magic wand and didn't know where to take him to bathe and get a fresh change of clothes (in Vancouver, I would have taken him to The Lord's Rain). But really, prayer is the most effective tool we have when used as directed. And the sense that someone cares enough even to say, "hello in there" can plant a seed of hope that can grow more than we could ever ask or think.

InSite - reminding us of the job at hand

The Supreme Court of Canada has ruled that InSite -- the "supervised" drug injection facility on the Downtown East Side -- should continue to receive public funds on the grounds that drug addicts have the "right" to shoot up in a healthy environment.

Once again in this country, "rights" has trumped "right". InSite has been around for eight years, and despite its claims to having reduced the infection rate of HIV/AIDS, there are some inescapable facts:

• people are still doing drugs, many of them openly on the streets or in alleys
• there is still a "market" for drugs, because those coming into InSite had to have acquired them from someplace
• women are still selling their bodies for drug money and often getting killed in the process
• street crime has grown worse over that time
• gang activity -- fuelled by the drug trade -- has also grown worse over that time
• police are increasingly frustrated at not being able to enforce the laws that are supposed to protect people (get a cop talking about InSite and you'll see a completely different picture than the one put forward by the proponents)

Certainly, the idea that someone should be able to inject drugs with a clean needle in a more-or-less sterile environment is "good", but as we so often see, "good" is the enemy of "best". As you'll see from the Province article, the federal government argued eloquently about the mixed messages InSite sends. We try to tell people that it's bad to do drugs, then we turn around and enable it. The subliminal message from society -- as represented by certain "experts" and various levels of the court system -- is, "we really don't care if you go through life as a drugged-out zombie: that's your 'choice' and we won't take that away from you".

This just in: drugs have already taken away that freedom. You look at someone groping around the streets and alleys, looking for a grain of crack cocaine to smoke, fumbling to find a vein with a needle, or sidling up to someone passing through with the "I-just-got-a-job-in-Fort-McMurray-but-I-need-to-get-enough-money-for-the-bus" line and tell me how capable they are of making a wise "choice".

This is all in the name of "harm reduction", and as I've said before, Jesus is not into harm reduction: He's into harm elimination. The law of His time on earth banished the "woman with the issue of blood" in the name of harm reduction. Jesus turned around and healed her. Same with lepers and demonized people. So much of the Downtown East Side resembles a leper colony or Samaria. But the healing has to begin with the hope that healing is possible. The woman with the issue wouldn't have put her life on the line -- literally -- to touch the hem of Jesus' garment if she didn't have a glimmer of hope that it would work when spending her life savings on medical treatment had failed. Statements like the remark by then mayor Sam Sullivan to the effect that, while addicts want to be clean, he'd like to get up and walk out of his wheelchair, but that's not going to happen either (emphasis mine), serve to stomp that hope into ashes.

But wailing and gnashing teeth that the law is an ass won't do. The ruling simply strengthens our resolve to continue preaching the Gospel -- and with it, Hope -- to the people we serve on the Downtown East Side. Let them know that a life without drugs, poverty and despair is not some vague promise in a book, but something mandated of God and, in fact, attainable. Drugs, poverty and despair are not really the problems -- in fact, as a student from Columbia Bible College pointed out recently at the Mission, for many people, they're the solution. The problems that lead to that solution are deeper issues that only God, through Jesus Christ, can identify, expose and heal, and they involve turning to Him and letting Him do His thing. That way, people on the DTES can become a generation of Overcomers, which could be far more dangerous to The Man than a neighbourhood full of addicts.

Now that I think of it and run it through the filter of seeking God and His glory in all things, the court ruling isn't so bad, at that. It reminds us that The Man -- the legal system, social-service programs and health-care "professionals" -- cannot be relied on to save people. Only God can do that -- just as Jesus told Martha after her brother Lazarus had died, "you will see the Father glorified". So while there is still daylight, we have to keep working hard to remind people that God can be glorified in any situation -- even (or especially) in the midst of Canada's Worst Postal Code.

From The Lord's Rain - "This is the Day ..."

Those of you who have been following this saga from the beginning probably know that one of the challenges has been to find a niche for Ladies' Day. It was actually put on Brodie Collins' heart -- he who did the plumbing for the project -- just as we were opening: that many women might not be comfortable showering or hanging out with a bunch of men nearby. So we decided to set aside such a time.

But what time? We began with Friday nights; that had limited success, partly because not many people want to shower-up at 7:00 in the evening and partly because another Lord's Rain opening started up earlier in the afternoon. So we kept trying new times, and it's always been difficult getting people to volunteer for an early-morning opening. Ladies' Day, therefore, became something of a moving target as we tried to find the right formula.

Then, this past spring, with Ladies' Day sitting in the Tuesday 9-Noon slot, our friend Randall pointed out that one reason why it was no more successful there was because people were lining up for lunches at some of the other agencies around the Downtown East Side -- and when it came to the choice between a shower and lunch, you can understand which won out. At that point, Janet declared that she was willing to give an early morning a shot and so, we moved Ladies' Day yet again to 7-10am on Mondays.

Monday, we got some evidence that we've hit the "sweet spot". With Janet away on vacation, I went down to open up. Sandy, whom I've known since the Rainbow Mission days in 2004-2006, came to help out, as did Megan, a new volunteer, who lives at the Rainier Hotel, a few doors away on Carrall Street. It's a single-room-occupancy (SRO) hotel, which caters primarily to women. Diane Brown, who works on Wednesday mornings, had met Megan a couple of weeks ago and invited her to come in: Megan asked if she could volunteer.

Megan seems like someone with a wellspring of gifts and ideas, who has -- for one reason or another -- never had a chance to give them an outlet. Drugs, mental illness, abusive past, you name it: anything can keep a lid on someone's self-esteem and make them keep their gifts to themselves and all have played a role in Megan's life. We'll get to know her more in the days to come. But one thing is certain: she's enthusiastic about bringing something to the Mission.

One of those is in "talking up" The Lord's Rain. She's been making little flyers to hand out at some of the social service agencies and telling the women in The Rainier about The Lord's Rain and Ladies' Day in particular. Already, it's starting to bear fruit.

This morning, a woman I hadn't seen before came in, using a walker. Ethel is native, 63, and in a lot of pain from the effects of arthritis and diabetes. She's also trying to kick a drug habit. "One of the women at the Rainier sent me over," she said. That would be Megan. Ethel was going for an interview to get into Ellendale, a recovery program in Surrey -- the kind where you allow yourself to be locked away for six months. But she was hungry, needed coffee, and needed to rest her feet.

One of the "meaning to get" things on my list has been a proper footbath, but I managed to rustle up a plastic bin and some foaming bath gel and ran warm water into it. Ethel plunged her gnarled, callused feet into the suds and the relief that came over her face was indescribable.

(The Health Contact Centre, which closed last year when a private not-for-profit agency took over some of its services, was noted for its footbaths, and people on the DTES haven't been able to find such a thing since; at the time, it was noted that the word "contact" was very important in the title: a vital face-to-face connection that you don't get in mainstream health clinics.)

"This is truly a house of the Lord!" she exclaimed. "I can feel His presence here!" Sandy and I prayed over Ethel for her to have favor in the interview and healing for all things, known and unknown.

Then Megan came in, followed by another woman. Kathy is her name, and she had been divorced from her first husband, then widowed by her second, who was a Pentecostal pastor. Now here she was on the Downtown East Side. There's a story there, and eventually, I imagine we'll hear about it.

"Let's pray for Ethel that she gets in at Ellendale!" Megan said.

"We already did pray for her," I said, and immediately heard the Lord say, "Fool! Don't stop her from praying!"

By some miracle, I managed to recover and encourage her to pray before any discouragement set in, and Megan prayed a lovely, heartfelt prayer for Ethel.

"Let's sing," Ethel said. "'This is the day (this is the day)/That the Lord has made (that the Lord has made)/Let us rejoice (let us rejoice)/And be glad in it ....' "

And then they launched into "Put Your Hand in the Hand of the Man from Galilee".

And so we drank coffee and ate Cobs Bread buns and talked of everything and nothing and by the time closing time came around, none of us wanted to leave. But the office was calling and Ethel did have to get up to the health clinic. We'll probably hear soon how things went. And there's a definite sense that Ladies' Day took a big step closer to the way it was envisaged from the start.

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Sock update -- about a year ago, I whimsically made reference to the Vancouver Sock Exchange, with people bringing in used but still wearable socks and swapping them for new ones. On Saturday, Ron, one of our regulars who's a "binner" (makes additional cash by collecting recyclables from garbage bins and taking them to bottle-collection depots and scrap dealers), came in with a large bag of dirty socks. He's been regularly receiving new socks from us, which is understandable, given the need for fresh socks in his line of work. Now, I'm happy to say that he's one of the first who's actually traded in the used ones. "I got another bag of them at home," he told me. Now, that's "giving back"!

When we first started The Lord's Rain, "street foot", a ghastly rot that takes over a person's feet when they go too long in the same dirty socks -- especially if those socks get wet -- was very common. I realized recently that I haven't seen a case of street foot in a long time. I think the awareness of the need for fresh socks -- and people's willingness to meet that need -- has had a lot to do with it.

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The "Worst" kind of violence?

A message board outside a church near my place currently (at least, as of Sunday) displays the aphorism, "Poverty is the worst kind of violence".

I've spent the past couple of days muttering, "what the heck does that mean?". It's a little like eating spicy food that still needs salt: something is missing there.

To begin with, the word "violence" generally has some negative connotations, and when I hear a term used like that, it's often in the context that someone else is guilty of it.

But whom are we accusing?

Lest we cudgel our brains into porridge over this, let's remind ourselves that even Jesus, the Son of God, acknowledges that there will always be poverty. That's why one of His commandments to His followers is to take care of the poor. Not eradicate poverty (which is one of those well-meaning, world-based "goals" that seems laudable, but because it's impossible to achieve, can bring a sense of futility and despair when that goal is never reached), but lift the poor out of the mire to make room for and set an example for the others who, inevitably, will slip. Just as God sends storms and illness and other trials to strengthen our faith and increase our reliance on Him; just as He created good and evil, darkness and light, I believe poverty is one of His creations so that those who are not impoverished can carry out that commandment and so that we can all learn how interdependant we are on one another and on God.

So if we make a statement like, "poverty is the worst kind of violence," are we not leveling an accusation at God?

"The poor," Jesus says, "ye shall have always." He never says they'll be the same poor. An area like the Downtown East Side should be a flow-through point, where people come for a time, and then get on with life. Missions like ours exist to get people turned around and back on track. Sadly, the DTES has become less of a thoroughfare and more of a dead end, with bodies and lives piling up.

Rather than look at poverty as being violence, I believe it's an opportunity from God: an opportunity to help and be helped and to see His glory, no matter what. I remember a fellow who came in often to Rainbow Mission (which closed at the end of 2006) and whom I still see from time to time -- Abraham Jones is his name -- and he once gave a testimony: "I thank God that I don't have a roof over my head tonight. I thank God that I don't know where my next meal is coming from. I thank God that I don't have a job." The inference was that he knew he could rely on God through anything and he was grateful for the opportunity; it's easy to glorify Him when things look good, but to do so when things look bad requires a whole lot of faith.

So is poverty "violence"? No. Keeping people in poverty, whether by ignoring them (like the rich dude in Jesus' parable, who ignores the pleas of the beggar Lazarus) or creating institutions that deny them hope and the truth of the Gospel, is closer -- definitely, an offence to God.

The story goes that a newspaper surveyed its readers about 100 years ago with the question, "what is the greatest threat to mankind?" The great author, GK Chesterton, submitted a simple, two-word response: "I am."

Let me turn that on its ear. What is the greatest asset of mankind?

You are.

We are.
 

Come on in! The water's fine!

I've said it before: you can look at Vancouver's Downtown East Side the way many activists do, as "Canada's Worst Postal Code," or you can look at it as the "whitest fields for harvest." But as Jesus said in that context, the laborers are few; and while we are to pray that the Lord of the Harvest brings in those laborers, we need to let the potential laborers know about the job. And to be crystal clear, the changes I've seen in people who have come to the Gospel Mission services or the times when The Lord's Rain is open are proof that the harvest is coming in and it's going to keep growing.

One of the really encouraging things is to see people coming to Gospel Mission services after making a "first contact" with us through The Lord's Rain: it's been a way that, as one prophecy stated years ago, Gospel Mission's reach is extending further into the DTES.


Jesus' last words to us on earth -- just before ascending to Heaven -- were: "you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in Judaea, and in Samaria and to the uttermost ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8) It's important to note that Jesus singled out Samaria -- land of the outcasts, where people worshipped strange gods and which was shunned by the people of Jerusalem and Judaea. The DTES is very much like Samaria, and Jesus is telling us that that's exactly where His Gospel needs to be preached. He's also telling us that, as His followers, it's not really an option -- it's our assignment.


Putting it another way, these are God's children, and we can't leave them at the mercy of the "prince of the air". That prince would rather enable them to stay in their current state and convince them that that's all they deserve. That is not God's will for His people: that's why He sent Jesus -- and that's why He sends us to tell them about Jesus.


Through Gospel Mission and The Lord's Rain, we do see this tremendous move of God: a gradual, steady revival, as people overcome their demons and addictions and pull out of that miry clay they've landed in. They find hope in the teachings at the Mission and in the sense at The Lord's Rain that people do care. From the way God has blessed Gospel Mission since 1929 and continued to keep His hand for blessing and support on The Lord's Rain since He planted the idea nearly four years ago, it's evident that this "Word-first" approach is His will.


But it takes laborers, and we have seen recently how much we need more people in this effort. For one thing, because we are all volunteers, discipling people and helping them as they make their breakthrough requires a "tag-team" with other disciples. We have work and family commitments, and sometimes all it takes is a change in those areas to affect the ministry. (Right now, illness, work hours and family crises like dealing with aging parents are all taking a toll.) So a service has to be cancelled; facilities have to stay closed.


Praise God, He has told us that other people are out there, willing to share the burden. We just have to let them know and encourage them to consider this opportunity.


We need teams at Gospel Mission and The Lord's Rain. It would be ideal to have teams serving once a week on a regular basis, but even having teams serving once or twice a month in rotation can ensure more "time slots" are covered. Here are the available times:

GOSPEL MISSION

Monday and Friday nights - services start at 7pm (door opens at 6:30, Worship at 7, door locked at 7:15 out of respect for those who came to hear the Word, message at 7:30 and meal around 8. A team consists of Worship leader, preacher, kitchen staff and cleanup crew. You could do it with 4 people. All we ask is that the teams provide the food and that at least one person in the kitchen either have FoodSafe certification or take a mini-course we put together to give the basics.


LORD'S RAIN

Thursday and Friday early mornings - 7-8:30am, or later if you can. At least two people are needed for this service, which involves making and serving coffee and handing out towels and soap and any clothing we might have. If food is available (or if the team brings some), we provide that, but that's not the primary reason for The Lord's Rain.


Let me offer some encouragement. God consistently calls His people out of their comfort zone. The best example is Abraham, having to pack up and move from the place where he'd been phenomenally successful to a place filled with definitely hostile people. I promise you, the Downtown East Side was NOT my comfort zone when the Lord called me there in 2004; but I soon learned that people there are no more or less fallen than the rest of us (take that any way you like!) and need to know that they are loved and that God has not given up on them. We are called to love the unlovely, and while the initial reaction some of you might have is, "I dunno, it looks pretty dangerous and there's a lot of sketchy-looking people there," I can tell you from personal experience that the water's fine. I've experienced first-hand the way God protects and strengthens His servants.


Here's some more encouragement. The Apostle Paul, who probably didn't see a "comfort zone" since he saddled up to ride into Damascus, got a Word from God while in Corinth. "Be not afraid, but speak, and hold not thy peace: for I am with thee, and no man shall set on thee to hurt thee: for I have much people in this city." (Acts 18:9-10).

In other words, all you need to do is agree to wade into the water wearing the full armour of God and prepared to speak the Gospel and He will be with you every step of the way. Moreover, you'd be surprised how many other Believers you'll find, just waiting to hear it confirmed from someone else's lips.


So I hope you'll consider this and of course, feel free to call me to find out more. Let your congregation know this opportunity is there for the taking; ask around; post this message; see if there are people who want to serve God in some way and may not even have thought of this. It may be exactly what God has in mind.

If you are interested - either as an individual or can pull a team together - please contact me through the Gospel Mission website -- http://www.gospelmission.net/.

The Lord's Rain at 3

My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory. (Philippians 4:19)

  

On Saturday (April 30), we marked our third anniversary of the opening of The Lord's Rain. I remember it well, partly because Amelia and I had just returned from a day trip to Seattle the night before. (The UBC Thunderbirds baseball team was playing an exhibition game against the University of Washington and I was doing the play-by-play for the webcast: my friend, Thor Tolo, and I had to vamp through three long rain delays while Amelia shivered off in one corner. Then we drove back to Vancouver through driving rain and at times sleet. Typical baseball weather, in other words.)

We flung the door open at 7am and waited for the thundering herd to arrive. It didn't. Some people saw we had free coffee and came in, said "cool" and moved on. Finally, a construction worker named Tim Doxlator said he'd take advantage of the service, and then a woman by the street name of "Little One" became the first woman to shower-up there.

On Saturday, we recorded our 1,800th shower.

  

No matter what you're doing in life, it's good, every so often, to look back on just how far we've come, rather than how far there is to go. Many Christians bent on Leading People To The Lord tend to focus on how much more a person has to do to 'get right with God', which often fogs up the reality that the person in question has probably come an exceptionally long way simply by opening his or her ears to the possibility that there's another way to live. Moses did that with the Israelites as they were about to cross into the Promised Land: reviewed the 40-year journey out of Egypt with the theme that "God has brought us this far, He's not going to drop us now."

As well, the quote from Philippians up there came back to me this morning as I was thinking about the past three years -- 3-1/2, in fact, going back to the day we signed the rental papers and started work. Some years ago, I was meditating on that passage and the Lord said, "look at the word order". The passage does not say, "my God shall supply, according to His riches in glory, all your need." Now -- and this could be like trying to catch a grounder on a gravel field so stay with me here -- "according to," when used in the title of the Gospels, means "as defined by". So what if we considered that passage to mean, "God will supply all your need as defined by His riches in glory"?

In other words, the passage goes from simply meaning, "God ain't broke and if you're faithful He'll take care of you," to "God will define what you need by His riches in glory and then provide for it."

 

I know - you think I've really lost it: that week in the Florida sunshine did something to my brain. But doesn't Jesus say that our Heavenly Father knows what we need before we ask Him? Often, our problem is that we ask Him for what we think we "need," rather than letting Him define it for us.

 

Trust me: it works. It certainly did in the case of The Lord's Rain. God defined a need -- also known as putting something on our hearts -- and then provided for it.

The origins of The Lord's Rain actually go back to the 1950s. That was when Jim Bromley bought the two-story brick pile at 325-327-331 Carrall Street, where Gospel Mission had been located on the upper floor since the 40s (when the Mission was founded in 1929 it was kitty-corner on Hastings, next to the late-lamented The Only Seafood Restaurant). I've never met Mr Bromley so I don't know his spiritual background, but he obviously likes us because he's essentially kept the rent as-is since the 70s, if not longer. We've truly been blessed to have such a landlord, and our "silent partner" relationship came into play when we approached Mr Bromley's son, Greg, who now manages the property, with what was, at the time, a "neat idea".

A dozen years or so ago, Gerry Wall, the senior pastor at The Oasis, spoke a prophecy over Barry Babcook. He said that Gospel Mission was going to expand its influence and its reach beyond that "upper room". How that was going to happen and what it was going to look like was not spelled out, but prophecies are like that: they'll give a glimpse of what God has in mind - just enough to make you go "OK, let's see how this plays out," and stay close to God in one's own dealings.

Nearly 10 years ago, with my life going through a period of deconstruction and reconstruction, I went to The Oasis, which is about a 15-minute drive over logging roads outside Duncan, along the Cowichan River.

In fall of 2007, Lee Grady, then editor of Charisma magazine, spoke at Westpointe Christian Centre, where I had been attending for about a year and a half. He asked for people who were doing missionary work to come up and he would speak prophecies over them. I went up with them. His prophecy over me was that God was about to send me on a journey, in which I would receive new and sharper "axe heads" for the work on the Downtown East Side. "Up till now," he said, "your axe has been bouncing off the tree; these will help you start to cut through."

 

He had no way of knowing I was about to leave for New York.

In New York, I visited the Bowery Mission and saw they provided showers for "street people" three times a week -- one time for women only. That notion floated around in my head -- along with a lot of other things from the trip that indicated the prophecy was coming to pass -- and a couple of weeks after I got back, I told Amelia about the apparent need for a similar program on the Downtown East Side. We had both been struck by the way the guys who came in were filthy -- and wanted to get clean. But without space to install the showers (and the floor of the 1888 building might not take the weight anyway), it was simply a "neat idea".

 

Except that less than 2 hours later, we learned that one of the ground floor spaces had become vacant.

You probably know the rest of the story, but it bears repeating in bullet form just to remind ourselves:

• Greg Bromley agreed to hold off renting the space for 2 weeks so we could work out a plan to fund and build the project. If he hadn't -- a throwback to the good relationship we'd had with him and his father over the previous 50 years -- The Lord's Rain would have remained a "neat idea".
• We had started with Zero dollars to go to this project, and agreed that, if God was truly going to bless the project and make it happen, the money we needed would be provided: and if not, it would go back to being a "neat idea" -- for someone else to pursue.
• 2 days before the deadline, two phone calls came, pledging enough money to get the project started. "We'll take that as a 'yes,' Lord."
• Another significant root of The Lord's Rain goes back to 1992, when I was working in radio in Victoria. Andrew Sheret, Ltd., a plumbing and bath supply company, was celebrating its 100th anniversary with a gala banquet, and the account executive who handled their advertising on our station approached me to be the MC. The evening went very well. 15 years later, I got one of those "nudges" in the Spirit to give them a call. They remembered me. "Can you give us a discount?" I asked. "We'll give you the showers," said president Brian Finlay.
• The Oasis, which has a lot of skilled tradespeople in its congregation, stepped in with a pledge to build the project. Despite the shaky economic situation in the Cowichan Valley, they loaded up vans and a trailer and made the ferry trip three times to get the job done. 
• Others appeared with skills from painting to fundraising to plumbing -- Brodie Collins, who was saved off the street at Gospel Mission over 20 years ago and started his own plumbing and gasfitting business -- and provided just what we needed, just when we needed it.
• Sometimes, it was humorous. Kathy Kinahan, who was working at Nokia at the time, kept pushing the company to come through with some bucks, even though it didn't quite fit with the company's vision for corporate social responsibility. Finally, a cheque arrived for $500. The same day, the old toilet in the back broke and had to be replaced. Cost: $500. The new toilet is now known as the Nokia Toilet. One of Kathy's colleagues suggested making a poster with a photo of the toilet with a cell phone floating in it. Oddly enough, the idea didn't fly.
• The media played a huge role. Jen Palma (Global) and Kyle Donaldson (CityTV) covered the construction; Al Siebring wrote about the Duncan connection in his Cow Valley paper, and Cheryl Rossi and Sandra Thomas wrote about the project in the Vancouver Courier.
• Further confirmation that this was God's Project and nothing was going to get in His way ("the Lord of Hosts hath spoken it, and who shall disannul it?"): due to a stupid mistake on my part, the door to the project was left unlocked. Someone walked in and took a load of plumbing tools. After beating myself up for about an hour, I was prompted to send out a news release, stating that the project would continue despite the "setback". CTV did a story -- Peter Grainger reported not on the theft, but on the project, and added word of the theft almost as an afterthought. Anchor Pamela Martin picked up on that point and ad-libbed that it would be nice if someone could help replace those tools. The next morning, came a phone call from a man who'd seen the story and wanted to help -- anonymously. And he did: big time. And continues to do so.
• Some further large donations have come in right when we've taken a stand about something -- like in 2009, when we refused to accept money that had come from provincial gambling revenue; shortly after that, we got a call out of the blue, saying we'd been chosen to receive a large grant.

Whew. Those last two bullets -- and the one about the financial pledges arriving two days before our self-imposed deadline -- really set the tone for The Lord's Rain. It has been an experience in faith-stretching, this is His project, not ours -- although we're the caretakers of it, not unlike the young man who lost his axe-head in the river (2 Kings 6) and Elisha the prophet caused it to float to the surface (the basis of Lee's prophecy). It's an indication, I believe, of how God wants ministry to people on the Downtown East Side and other areas of urban poverty to go to "the next level" -- an overall provision of hope and love that can actually help break people out of the cycle of despair that they're in.

His timing is amazing on so many levels: do you notice that the project came together before the bottom fell out of the global economy in 2008?

Three years and still open.
There's plenty to be grateful for.

Certainly, it hasn't been an easy ride and there are certainly times when it seems like something or someone is pulling out all the stops to prevent it from succeeding. But the fact is, it is a success and will continue to be so. Setbacks and strange things going wrong simply prove the adage that if you're not taking flak, you're not over the target (how many times have I said that?).

Stones Big and Small (an appeal)

My good friend, Murray Scott, takes one of the turns as service leader at Westpointe Christian Centre. He has a gift for taking everyday experiences he's encountered -- often from coaching soccer or his business, which is a building contractor -- and relating them to Biblical truths. So in many ways, I'm following his example as I write this. You'll see what I mean.




In Genesis and Deuteronomy, the Lord commands His people that, if they build Him a stone altar, it's to be made of "whole stones" -- any stones that have been "cut to fit" are polluted. Now, the "polluted" part aside, that means that stones of all shapes and sizes are needed, as they all fit together. Small ones fill in the spaces between the big ones, and if those small ones aren't there, there are either gaps or the whole thing collapses.



It's also important to note that we're talking stones here -- in the plural. The altar was not meant to be a single, large stone. An altar is to be built, not found or appropriated. God doesn't want His people simply saying, "Hello: here's a rock! Let's worship here!" Rather, we're to take the definite, deliberate action of selecting the stones, and then joining them together so they will fit just right and stand for a very long time.



That's the way The Lord's Rain has been built. As I've said before, it's not been the work or gifting of one single person or entity that's made it happen, but the collective work of a whole lot of people bringing a whole lot of things of varying sizes to the project -- rather like Paul's description of the Body of Christ in Ephesians 4. That collective effort has imbued the facility with a spirit that many people care enough about the people in the Downtown East Side to develop it. That brings hope, and hope is the most precious commodity of all.



To keep the analogy going, we're in need of more stones, big and small, at The Lord's Rain. We have an ongoing financial need, and as you know, The Lord's Rain is totally run by volunteers, so funds that come in go directly to rent, utilities and upkeep. So would you please consider making a contribution of whatever amount you feel you can? Also, would you please consider making The Lord's Rain a regular part of your offerings?



Saturday will mark the third anniversary of the opening of The Lord's Rain, and there's no question it's been a success in terms of changes coming over the lives of the people who come in. In raw numbers, we've provided nearly 1800 showers. In the past year, we've managed to bring more consistency to the "Ladies Only" time and added another early-morning opening (now open Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Saturdays at 6:30am) and it looks like we'll be adding Mondays to the list in the near future.



Perhaps more tellingly, the Lord has truly blessed the facility from Day One, providing for it and protecting it in often miraculous ways -- something I blogged about a couple of years ago -- so there's no question that this is on the right track. There's no question, too, that we're grateful for the way you-all have bought into the vision and supported it in the ways you have, to date.



I think it also says something that we only have to send a gentle (I hope) reminder like this about once a year.



To make a donation, you can send a cheque or money order to:

Gospel Mission Society

Box 1151, 2480 East Hastings

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada V5K 1Z1

... and please make sure the cheque is made out to Gospel Mission Society, and then mark "The Lord's Rain" or "Showers" on the memo line.

You can also donate by Visa or MasterCard via email to donation@gospelmission.net, including your name as it's on the card, card number, expiry date and your address for tax receipt purposes.

Thank you, as always, for the support you give us, however you give it.

Us and Them -- really???

A little vignette from Saturday morning ...


“So are you learning much from volunteering down here?”

The question came from a Native chap, whose name I don’t know yet but who’s been a regular around The Lord’s Rain for some time now.

“I mean,” he went on, “there's a big difference between the Ritz-Carlton and this place, isn’t it?”

I guess we all do some “profiling” in our lives, and while I’m not exactly the embodiment of urbane sophistication (and certainly not an habitué of the Ritz-Carlton), it’s easy to assume some kind of class distinction. Mind you, I think I can count on one hand the number of times the issue has come up in my own case; unfortunately, when it has, it’s come up in the form of a crass comment from someone, which I dismiss because there’s a spirit of envy behind it. Usually, praise God, people at the Mission accept me for who I am and I return the compliment.

But this fellow’s questions were sincere and without that spirit. He was genuinely curious.

“Actually,” I told him, “what impresses me more than the differences is the similarities.”

And that’s the truth. People often look on the folks on the Downtown East Side as being “special cases”, a separate caste: someone once referred to the treatment of the urban poor in Vancouver as “genocide”, but that implies they’re a different race from the “others” in the city. But I think that's patronizing, suggesting that they should get perpetual handouts and "breaks" from society because they are basically incapable of moving beyond where they are now. But that kind of thinking avoids the inconvenient truth: any one of us is one slip away from winding up in the same situation.

When I speak in churches, that’s often one of the key messages, and I pull it out both for shock value and because it's the truth. What impresses me about working on the Downtown East Side is that people are intelligent, respectful, well-spoken, and good to be around. Ask Amelia about the level of respect: when she serves them coffee or food, they all say “please” and “thank you” and they stop to chat; when she was ill recently, people asked about her, prayed for her and sent home good wishes.

Some of the people, certainly, are addled by drugs; others by mental illness. Some can be a real pain in the bottom at times. Some seem closeted away in their own little world – but watch what happens when you call their name: they snap into this world, and smile, and answer.

Think about it: there are people in your own circle who are just like that – and if they’re not addled by drugs, certainly there are other addictions that affect a person’s behaviour and outlook.

All have fallen in some way, and some people handle it differently than others. Any one of us can be one misstep away from starting that downward spiral that leads to situations like the Downtown East Side. If you're in a decent financial situation, that can cover a multitude of sins -- at least, as far as the world is concerned. As Spike Milligan once said, “money can’t buy you friends, but it gets you a better class of enemy”. But if the slip-up is accompanied by going broke, losing a job, family, status – and that’s happened to more than a few of the people we meet on the DTES – the crash is palpable. A rich man whose Grace runs out ahead of the money doesn’t realize how much he needs Grace.

One recurring theme in my own messages at the Mission is how close I came to that kind of crash: the elements were there, but by then God had gotten hold of me and had said, "stick with Me, kid, and you'll go places". I've long since understood that this isn't about me, but about Him, and the rest of that theme is how that same Grace and renewal is available to anyone who'll believe.

If you want to look for differences our friend was asking about, here's one: most people who come into the Mission know they need help. A lot of people in other parts of the city don’t. Recently, another recurring theme that's developed is that it’s OK to believe God has something better and that one is entitled to it, simply because, well, it is written ....

So while it’s easy to look at the DTES – or any hotbed of urban poverty – and look at an “Us and Them” situation, you don’t have to look much harder to see it’s really “Us and Us”.

Working on our own "little room"

Another great post this morning from Ron Edmonson, which speaks to the need for us to keep our own role in God's Plan in perspective. He points out that a honeybee only produces 1/12 tsp. of honey in its lifetime while, in conjunction with all the other bees in the hive, turns out a prodigious amount of honey.

The trick is that the bee knows what its job is and does it to the best of its ability. It shoulders its own burden and doesn't try to take on anyone else's -- like, it doesn't try to lay eggs or become the queen bee.

(DIGRESSION ALERT: this could turn into the stuff of a sappy children's book if I'm not careful: the little bee that wanted to be queen. Except, well, it was a male ... and, well, it didn't know that if another queen came along in the hive, Bob the Kindly Beekeeper came along and ruthlessly killed the new queen to prevent the bees from swarming and flying off to form a new hive and terrorize Bob's neighbors in the process, causing the neighbors to descend on Bob's beehives with axes and flame-throwers ......

Sorry, slipped over to the "dark side" for a moment there. Must by my German heritage -- the same culture that brought us Max und Moritz, before they became "sanitized" as the Katzenjammer Kids ....)

Back to the bees ...

As I read it, Ron is saying that as workers in any effort, we need to lose the word "only" from our vocabulary. We need to understand that so long as we are doing our job, we can be satisfied and proud of that 1/12th tsp. we produce, because it's part of a whole that is so much bigger.

A couple of years ago, a brother at Gospel Mission asked about Ezekiel 40 -- the description of The City. He wondered why the prophet goes into such intricate detail about the little rooms and the chairs and the palm trees and other carvings. Meditating on that, we start to see a parallel to our own walk. Ezekiel is never shown the "30,000-foot view" of the entire project.

He does the same thing with Noah, by the way: never actually shows him a picture of what the ark is supposed to look like at the end; same with Moses and the instructions for the Tabernacle.

There's a good reason for that. As human beings, we want to be responsible for the entire project: we want to Do Big Things, and if God showed us the overall picture of what He was going for, somebody (or maybe all of us) would come along and cut corners to produce what only looked like the overall picture. But you know something would be missing.

In the same way, He gives intricate instructions as to what we are supposed to do. That way, we don't embellish -- like adding a kangaroo between the cherubim -- and don't fall into pride. We also come to trust Him to bring it all together, because He knows that 30,000' view.

We also "stick to our knitting" and don't try to shoulder someone else's burden. God gives us enough as it is, and we have to remember that we can only be "unprofitable servants" -- the best we can do for God is break even, because if we tried to do anything more for Him, we'd be saying that His instructions to us weren't good enough.

I needed that revelation because we were opening up The Lord's Rain at the time -- just about 3 years ago, now -- and one morning, I was standing outside the Mission looking at the scene on the street. We look right into the teeth of one of the worse alleys in Vancouver for drugs and crime (possibly the worst, although the one beside the Carnegie Center gives it some stiff competition).

So I said to the Lord, "look at all this: the drugs and the crime and the mental illness and the homelessness ... how can we fix that?" And He said, "and your job is to run the showers program. Don't worry: you stick to that and see where it goes. I'll bring the others together."  

                                                             

And that's never left me. And rather than let me despair, God has shown me remarkable things with lives turning around; all because I was "just" running a showers program and preaching the Gospel. And I'm confident my 1/12th tsp. is part of a far bigger picture.

By the way, there's nothing wrong with Doing Big Things: so long as they're the Big Things God calls you to do. Peter wanted to Do A Big Thing -- defend Jesus. But Jesus had just told him he'd be the rock His church would be built on. That's a Really Big Thing. Peter's church stands to this day (and I don't mean the Catholic church), but when he did what he thought he was supposed to do -- take a sword and attack one of the soldiers -- he missed and only got the ear. And Jesus healed that.

I believe it's OK to let God know that one is willing to do more; but we need to be stick with the job we're given in the mean time.

VENTING - Why we're called to be here

O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,

That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!

-- Julius Caesar, Act 3 Sc. 1

When I started writing this piece on Saturday, I was still slightly radioactive over a situation we had to deal with at The Lord’s Rain. The Shakespeare quote kept bubbling to the surface after seeing one of our regulars get carted off to hospital, evidently on a bad trip.

Lesley is one of the regulars at The Lord’s Rain, a 40-something woman who at one time was probably very attractive. She’s also remarkably intelligent – as indeed are the majority of the people we see at The Lord’s Rain and Gospel Mission upstairs. But drugs and street-life have robbed all of that from her: her teeth are gone, she has AIDS, she has open sores on her face that she has to be admonished not to pick at; she, along with many others in the area, reminds me of a scene in a cartoon where a deranged sailor rushes off a ship and screams, “I was a human being once!”

At any rate, Lesley came in yesterday, acting about as normal as we ever do see her. After a while, she went into the bathroom, leaving behind her coat and bag, as we require people to do, to try to reduce the chances that they’ll do drugs when they’re back there or in the showers. I went back to tend to the laundry, and realized she was still there.

“Are you OK?” I called.

The response was a cross between a groan and a gargle – taken individually, they’re not good signs; taken together, it was even worse. She told me she wanted to get to her doctor, but she didn’t have his number. The only number I know in a situation like that is 911, and I dialled it.

The amazingly impressive thing about emergency personnel working the Downtown East Side is their speed and their compassion. It’s a popular and populist thing to suggest that police and paramedics tend to regard a street person as “just another junkie”, but in seven years of personal observation, I have never seen that. They are tough when they have to be – as I saw when they took down Axel three years ago after I’d pointed him out as the one who took a piece of re-bar to a fellow in the alley across from the Mission – but the streaks of compassion and friendliness restore your faith in the way they do things and wonder where the “activists” get their stuff.

The paramedics were there within a few minutes and by then, Lesley was only semi-coherent. The 911 operator asked what drugs she’d been taking, and Lesley painstakingly wrote out a list of them – mostly her AIDS “cocktail” – and then explained patiently to the paramedics that they would have to speak very quietly and very slowly so she could understand what they were saying. She had very little control over her movements, which made it impossible to get a reading on her blood pressure. We walked her out to the ambulance, strapped her into the stretcher and they drove off.

St Paul’s Hospital would be the most likely destination, and when I went through my own health issues a couple of years ago, I saw first-hand their dealings with “street people” (it’s also one of the leading facilities for AIDS treatment, which would make it the best place to take her, as well). They would likely give her a stern talking-to about street drugs and “bringing it on herself”, but would also do whatever it took to at least stabilize her and keep her alive. It’s a mixture of toughness and compassion.

But Saturday, after the ambulance had left, I hit cracking point. Angry? Frustrated? You better believe it! But where do you start?

Do you get angry at the circumstances that led Lesley to that point? How about the society that’s taken this laissez-faire attitude towards drugs? (It’s so easy to sneer at the US “war on drugs”, but we in Canada have a lot to answer for with the “non-aggression pact” we seem to have – and students of history and World War II will understand the full implications of that.)

Maybe you could rail against the amount of money, energy, time and resources spent chasing “cures” rather than attacking the root causes; or against the dealers, pimps and absent parents; or against the societal attitudes that decided it would violate her rights to force her into treatment?

Where do you start? Heck – where do you finish?

Sunday afternoon, I drove down Hastings Street and passed five ambulances and one fire department first-response unit, all with their lights flashing. I can’t help wondering what would have happened if there had been a fire or a heart attack while the paramedics were attending to Lesley or if one of the victims had to wait for a bed in ER because Lesley was taking one up.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not about to advocate for an emergency care system that “respects persons” and writes off certain people because they were largely to blame for their condition. What makes me angry and frustrated is that Lesley’s situation could have been prevented, but there’s such a negative response to people who suggest that we should try to stop these problems before they start, actually teaching kids values and hope and the social heresy that we can and should turn to God to get us through tough times. People advocating abstinence or “Just Say No” are denounced as naive and self-righteous; that’s as may be, but I believe that if we give people something to “Just Say Yes” to, “Just Say No” does not become an issue.

And even in this, the Lord is putting things into perspective – praise Him. “At least she had a place to come to,” He quietly reminded me as I was about to start punching the walls inside The Lord’s Rain.

Right as always. The Lord’s Rain was her safe place, as it’s meant to be. If she’d had that bad trip – or the chest pains she complained about – anywhere else, what would she have done? Where would she have gone?

I don’t think it over-states the case to say that we – meaning you, our supporters, because you’re part of this – have someone; at least, helped to give one more person another chance at life, another chance to turn around; another chance to feel the love that is so much a part of The Lord’s Rain. The Lord’s Rain was built on love: it was not built to satisfy a government requirement or as a make-work project; it was built because God put it on the hearts of all those associated with it that this was something needed in the area. More importantly, once He had set the idea in motion, He made sure it came to pass, often through miraculous ways. Incidents like this with Lesley remind one just how needed it is. Remembering how so many others have found safe haven and encouragement at 327 Carrall Street reinforces that.

It's important to remember that, and the successes we have, even as we keep up the search for others to work with us: those to open The Lord’s Rain on the other three early mornings a week, to help run “Ladies Day” (Tuesdays, 9-Noon) and to fill in on other mornings as needed. I know the Lord of the Harvest is tapping people on the shoulder -- just as His Son is knocking on the doors of a lot of people (Rev. 3:20) -- and sooner or later, those people will say, "hello?"

One of those people who did answer the bell is Randall, who has emerged as a vital member of our leadership team; almost immediately the enemy tried to bring him under when he was diagnosed early this year with cancer. (As 'tis said, if you're not taking flak, you're not over the target.) I have heard from him occasionally: his neighbour tells me he’s had surgery to remove the tumor and has been going almost daily for follow-up treatment. I haven’t heard his prognosis, so it’s still anybody’s guess as to when he’ll return to action, so please keep him in prayer.

Casino plans and the Whore of Babylon

Statement from Gospel Mission regarding the proposed new Casino on False Creek.

Gospel Mission welcomes the prospect of an expanded casino on False Creek. The casino will definitely generate new business for us: new people finding themselves caught in their addictions, broke and in debt; and we will welcome them to our rescue mission to hear the Word of God, share a hot meal, and re-connect with Hope that goes beyond the empty promise of easy money through gambling. We find that when people have their backs against the wall and hit rock bottom at the same time, they inevitably turn to Jesus. We have seen that with drug addicts and alcoholics who have come through our doors over the past 82 years, and now we look forward to this new crop for harvest. Further, since we do not ourselves receive money from gambling operations -- including the relatively tiny pot reserved for charities in BC's gaming revenue -- but place our confidence in Jehovah Jireh, the Lord Who Provides, we know we will be there to catch whoever falls. We are, after all, just a stone's throw away from the casino: a six-sided stone, if you catch our drift.

Hands up, all those who caught a bit of sarcasm there ......

In one of its weekly collections of news clips (at least, this was the case the last time I read the magazine), Sports Illustrated would have a kicker called "This Week's Sign That The Apocalypse Is Upon Us"; some weird, usually funny, statement or event that suggests that things are not as they should be.

There are plenty of those around right now, and nowhere near amusing -- the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, for example, is the latest. Add it up with the fires, flooding and tornadoes in Australia, earthquakes in diverse places, vicious and short-notice (if not unpredictable) weather events and all the issues surrounding the Gulf of Mexico oil blowout last year, and an inescapable reality emerges: the signs Jesus foretold of His return are coming to pass.

As the song says, People Get Ready.

But the end-times prophecies are not all bad news -- after all, Jesus' return, and God taking over His Creation, bringing the New Jerusalem and coming to live among His people is good news and to be embraced and welcomed as well as prepared-for. And the Book of Revelation has lots of cause to celebrate.

Take, for example, the current controversy in Vancouver over plans to build a "destination casino" next to BC Place Stadium. There already is a high-end casino there: this would expand it and include a resort hotel and seven restaurants. And the opposition has been swift and loud. Opponents don't want Vancouver to turn into a northern version of Las Vegas and they're not swayed by the proponents' arguments. Health officials have waded into the debate -- coming out against the casino, saying problem gambling is already an epidemic in BC and this will make it worse.

I've blogged before about my views on gambling in general, but I'm noticing something else here, tied to end-times talk. In the past, arguments about the amount of money being generated for health care and community charities have won the day for the gaming proponents; but this time, those points -- along with the repeated assertion that it will "revitalize the area" and "boost Vancouver tourism" -- seem hollow and desperate.

("Boost Vancouver tourism"? In case anyone has missed the past 100 years, Vancouver already has a good tourism industry, with wonderful restaurants, entertainment -- Grammy-award-winning symphony, the Arts Club, the Playhouse, the Jazz Festival, the Yale, Gastown; not to mention natural beauty which you can still see from downtown despite the forest of high-rises. If any place does not need a casino to suck people inside and suck their pockets empty, it's Vancouver.)

You'll find that "something else" in Revelation 17-18, which refers to The Whore of Babylon. I see that as a description of the world economy, where kings and merchants worship and bow down to this gorgeous, jewel-bedecked woman, but when God steps in and exposes her for what she is, the kings and merchants cut and run and try to stay as far away from her burning as possible -- all the while bemoaning her demise.

What I'm seeing with the casino debate is the failure of the "money argument" to sway people in favor of the project, and the increasingly desperate tone that argument is taking. Is the Whore going down? Are people starting to back away? Are merchants starting to wail for her?

For her sins have reached unto heaven, and God hath remembered her iniquities.

Reward her even as she rewarded you, and double unto her double according to her works:

in the cup which she hath filled, fill her to the double.

-- Rev. 18:5-6

And the Word of God encourages us to realize that this world economy has oppressed and ignored the people and that we are to ignore and oppress that Whore right back. Could we be seeing this now?

Of course, to close the loop back to the statement at the beginning here, we'll be there to help people: but there are times we kinda wish we didn't have to.

Fresh Eyes in the neighbourhood

Diane is one of our new workers at The Lord's Rain. A retired nurse, she responded to a letter I'd written to The Vancouver Sun just after Christmas 2010 about a lengthy item on people who volunteer for the big dinners put on by charities at that time of year. My point was that there are volunteers working in the area 365 days a year and that we need more of them. Diane has now begun running The Lord's Rain -- usually alongside Randall but lately I've been filling in for Randall -- on Wednesday mornings. During our times working together, she's talked about some of her observations -- particularly after Randall had taken her on a "walkabout". Recently, I asked her to write them down. Here's what she sent, followed by an exchange of emails between her and a Vancouver city councillor about her concerns.

I started volunteering at the Lords Rain at the beginning of the year.

At the end of my third shift, my co-volunteer Randall took me on a tour to show me more of the DTE

WHAT HORRIFIED ME

After three shifts I was used to the drug dealing that went on in the alley opposite to the Lords Rain, I was not prepared for the extent of the dealing that is all pervasive in the area, especially on Welfare Wednesday. The dealers were on every street corner, and outside every ATM and cheque cashing shop. Many of the residents were spaced out, and walking along Hastings Street by the Ovaltine cafe there were at least four women sitting on the sidewalk injecting themselves with obviously pre used needles

I wish I had made notes at the time-the following are my recollections, including information from Randall.

First United Church*

We entered to see a group of volunteers providing bowls, soap and water to “walk ins” for foot care

Some people were lying fully clothed in the corridor

The meal room was very large-according to one occupant, a Rabbi had conducted a short service there. The long dining tables were covered with spilt coffee

I looked in on one of the sleeping rooms-bunk beds-very close together-nearly all were occupied (at 9.30 a.m.) by men sleeping fully clothed on top of a sheet

According to Randall, it is open 24/7 which does not allow time for cleaning, there are three bathrooms for the men, and three for the women

The Bottle Depot

A dark, dismal, depressing place

The binners come in and get money for their bottles and cans-the drug dealers are waiting at the door to relieve them of that mone

People were lining up to get free food all over the area-some did not appear to be homeless-(according to Randall there are some who abuse the system )

Different charities run food and soup kitchens

WHAT SURPRISED ME

The resources available to people in the area, and how up beat some of the helpers are 

The Evelyn Saller Center

A well used shower programme

Meals available at a price which I felt gave those partaking a certain dignity and self worth

A pool table and area for socialising

Health, delousing, and laundry facilities

“A Health Clinic” ( I cannot remember the name, but I do remember the cheery and very funny pharmacist)

Downtown East Side Personal Development School

Life Skills Centre

Job search assistance, computers

Carnegie Centre

Meals available at a cheaper price

Socialising

Computers

Newspapers

The Door is Open

The day we were there was “ladies day”- a dedicated group of volunteers, mostly from the West side of town were preparing lunch, mainly from donated food

About 12 women were seated at tables socialising-quite a good atmosphere

***

Diane also paid a visit to the showers program at Kitsilano Community Centre. It operates on Saturday mornings. 

I wanted to see how this programme was run, and the coordinator kindly agreed to let me observe

The programme, which is totally run by volunteers apart from one Community centre staff person, takes place each Saturday from 7-9 a.m.

I counted about twelve volunteers

• 2 at the entrance to the Center where guest sign in-their bags are put into large plastic bags, carts are tagged, and they are given a ticket for them “Valet Parking"
• 3 in the kitchen cooking up a full breakfast
• 2 at the cereal, hot porridge and muffin table
• 2 at the coffee(pre prepared and donated by Starbucks) and juice table
• 2 at the clothing, toiletries, towels table

Friendly, outgoing volunteers, mainly from the West side, some attend the Catholic Church next door-very respectful to the guests 

The guests were nearly all male, some coming every week from the DTE, others from the surrounding neighbourhood. Many were regulars-nearly all were appreciative

Much of the food and clothing is donated-socks and gloves are purchased and given out to anyone who asks

The showers are the same ones used by the regular center users, and although no tally was made as to how many people had showers, I counted five people in the room at one time-this area was not supervised

There had been a problem with bed bugs-the center had to be closed for cleaning

The coordinator gives everyone a talk re the problem before they are allowed to enter

There are written guidelines for volunteers with emphasis on personal safety

  

My own thoughts re above

There seems to be a definite hierarchy within the world of the homeless, which ranges from the hopelessness of the women outside the Ovaltine Cafe, to the (learned) helplessness of some of the men in the food lines, as evidenced by the downward slope of their shoulders and downcast eyes, to the hopefulness of the people who are trying to turn their lives around

I feel angry when I see how people are “housed” on the East Side-such conditions would never be tolerated on the West Side

I feel angry and baffled when money is handed out every month to people who immediately spend it on drugs-I cannot understand how there cannot be a system in place to ensure that that money goes toward food and shelter

*Diane had some further thoughts on the cleanliness at First United, which she shared in a Jan. 29 letter to Vancouver Councillor Kerry Jang.

Dear Councillor Jang

I have just read the following in today's edition of the Globe and Mail-the story was referring to tent cities in Seattle: "Health and safety concerns - for prospective residents and staff- make tent encampments a non-starter, Vancouver Councillor Kerry Jang said. 'It's just not good public health,' he said.
I volunteer with one of the shower programmes on the downtown east side-another volunteer took me on a tour of the area. I had the chance to take a look inside the First United Church on the corner of Hastings and Gore, and was horrified at what I saw-I am assuming that you have been there, so will not go into any more detail.

A large number of people are sleeping in very close quarters under one roof, with a limited number of bathrooms and exits. If you have not been to this facility lately, I hope you will take the time to revisit it-unannounced.

I would also appreciate your telling me what role the city plays in its funding, and what is being done to ensure that safety and health standards are being met.

Yours sincerely
***
Councillor Jang replied that same day,
 
Hi Diane,


I am well aware of First United. The shelter there is being funded now entirely by the Province of BC. The city set it up initially with the Province and it became very popular due to the needs in the area. Just so you know, we are aware of the issues there - mainly over crowding on some nights and our fire and VPD inspectors are there regulalry, as are folks from Coastal Health to make sure all are safe. To date, any issues have been dealt with by the church and Coastal Health have been satisfied. Over the past two plus years, although crowded, the facilities there have not had any outbreaks, etc, likely due to the cleaning protocol and the fact there are adequate washroom facilities. I do not know what parts you have seen, but there are beds there now when in the first year there were just mats and pews.

Tent cities are a problem as there are no proper santitation/washroom facilities and no way to regulate heat. When tent cities have popped up in Vancouver in the past, there were severe health problems.
 
***
Diane copied her MLA, Dr Margaret McDiarmid, on the exchange, and was told that had been forwarded to Rich Coleman, Minister of Public Safety -- and the minister whose department would oversee the program.

Shouldn't do it to a dog ...

The outrage du jour in British Columbia lately has been the slaughter of sled dogs by a sled-dog tour operator in Whistler. Apparently, these dogs were deemed expendable when the company experienced a downturn after the initial post-Olympics surge in business.

It's a horrifying case, both in and of itself and also in the exercise in "rush to judgment". There's been this outpouring of anger -- including death threats -- against the company, the person who did the killing (who's just been granted worker's compensation benefits for post-traumatic stress disorder) and the Olympic games; there's even been a Facebook page set up (oooh! a Facebook page! Now they're really in trouble!)

Interestingly, none of this outrage seems to be directed at the general public - the tourists who created a perceived demand for this service in the first place. It's a little like demanding Big Macs and Quarter-Pounders and then complaining that the South American forests have been destroyed to increase beef cattle lands.

Mind you, God is not impressed, either: A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel. (Proverbs 12:10 KJV)

(Reading this, Temple Grandin is definitely more in line with the will of God than most animal-rights activists: reputedly, one of her key observations about cattle management was that in dying, animals provide us with food, so we have to treat them with respect while they're alive. But I digress ...)

But one of the sidebars to this outrage has been people pointing to the lack of outrage when it comes to inhumane efforts against people -- like the deaths of 21 children who were under the care of the Ministry of Children and Families. The province's Child Advocate identified those, and I can tell you, there wasn't anywhere near the public outcry over that than there has been over the dogs.

And let me add this to the mix: where is the outrage over the human condition on Vancouver's Skid Road? Why have so many Christians, who are called to reach out to the poor and destitute, abrogated that responsibility and handed it off to a vast socio-political experiment in not-so-benign neglect? Solutions like harm-reduction and mixing affordable and market housing run counter to the will of God:

• mixed-use housing is not a bad idea, per se, but as I pointed out in my previous post, it keeps drug addicts in the very area where their problems are all around them. They need to move -- like Abram was instructed by God -- to a different place, so they can move towards the promise God as for them
• (it also provides developers an excellent opportunity to promise an affordable housing component in their plans and then, when sales go sideways -- as happened with Olympic Village -- cry poverty and demand to be released from their promise)
• as I've said numerous times before, Jesus was not into harm reduction; He was (and still is) into harm elimination -- total healing, not just band-aids
• drug advocates rail that the US "War on Drugs" has been a failure, but the peace treaty with drugs we have in this society has led to the problems on Skid Road today -- the reason why people are terrified of walking through the area between Chinatown and Gastown. Neither works, because of the spirit behind them: the spirit of a "quick fix".
• The US approach is to try to drop the Monty Python 16-ton weight on the drug industry;
• the approach we see in Canada is to make life easier for the addicts: lots of social housing, clean needles and a "safe place to shoot up";
• the court system fails to back up law enforcement officers;
• the news media glamorize pushers by publicizing the dollar value of drug seizures and printing photos of gang leaders who look like they belong more in GQ than Hotel Crowbar

The devil provides quick fixes; God provides solutions.

God's solution involves recognizing that drug addicts and the mentally ill are fallen human beings like all of us -- everyone has a different response mechanism and theirs has involved a more spectacular crash. It's the duty before God for all of us to reach out with love and hope that overpower the need for the drugs.

I'm not just talking about the addicts. I grieve for the dealers and enforcers and lookouts I see on the street outside Gospel Mission: lurking about in their hoodies, talking on cell phones, swaggering back and forth looking as tough as they can, talking among themselves as if they're old friends, but you know deep down, none of them trusts the others. What will their lives be like in 5, 10, 20 years -- if they're still alive? Believe it or not, we as Christians have a duty to reach out to them, too.

But where is the outrage? Do we really care more for sled dogs than for other humans? Jesus told us there'd be days like these -- when "because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold" (Matt. 24:12 KJV) -- as the world awaits His return.

Or is this lack of outrage really because deep down, we're convicted that -- to use Walt Kelly's overworked line from Pogo -- we have met the enemy and he is us?

Some heresy about the DTES

There’s been a lot of talk lately about development on Vancouver’s Downtown East Side, with people concerned that “gentrification” (the bogeyman du jour in that section of town) will push the poor out of the area as housing prices rise; and then where would they go?



Unfortunately, the response from some of the advocates for affordable housing – as in the Vancouver Sun op-ed piece on Feb. 2  – makes the case that mixing social strata doesn’t work and demands that unnamed people and entities build more single-room occupancy (SRO) spaces and upgrade existing ones. The advocates don’t actually say who should pay for this, although I’m sure that, if asked, we would hear the usual responses: “the city can afford to spend millions on bike lanes” ... “the province can spend $600 million on a new roof for BC Place, but ...” ... yadda-yadda-yadda ...

Here’s a piece of heresy: what’s so great about keeping the poor on the Downtown East Side?

Really: isn’t this build-more-social-housing-on-the-DTES position little more than a call to perpetuate the ghetto?

This comes from ministering, observing and talking with people in the area, and for no compensation and with a sole interest, if I may say so myself, in seeing people’s lives change, turn around and move forward. Let's get real: this is Skid Road, a cauldron of despair, drugs, crime and prostitution; why would we want to pursue policies and strategies that don’t help people move on and instead make it easier for them to stay in that cauldron?

Perhaps it’s because there can be a buck in it for people who advocate that approach. But that would be cynical. Moi?

See, the first thing we need to do is stop glamorizing the place, and we've been doing that since the 1970s when the term Downtown East Side started getting traction. I remember thinking the term was kinda cool – a sort of New York cachet – like “Lower East Side” or “The Village”. These days, someone’s trying to coin “SoMa” for a stretch of Main Street (“South Main”, get it?): kind of like “SoHo” – South of Houston Street – in New York. (Vancouver has a history of wanting to be Just Like The Big Cities – so long as it’s not Toronto – and that goes back over a century, when architecture like the Dominion Building on Hastings resembled some of the buildings of the time in San Francisco. Unfortunately, a lot of its treatment of poor people resembles New York as depicted in “How The Other Half Lives” – in 1878.)

Next, we need to turn up our BS detectors when someone comes along with an idea they claim will “help” or “humanize” the “homeless”. Look at the people whose political and/or personal careers have been built on being “advocates” for the poor. Now consider the fruits of their labor. Recently, the UBC Museum of Anthropology cancelled an exhibit of portraits of the women who went missing from the Downtown East Side over a 10-year period. That was one of the wisest things a public body could have done, as it was responding to a couple of advocacy groups, which complained that the exhibit was primarily an exercise in self-promotion by the artist.

Only when we de-glamorize the area do we see that we are dealing with human beings, not subjects in a social experiment. Nor are they numbers on a “homelessness audit”: figures for a politician to point to and declare that’s his or her goal to have new rooms in fleabag “hotels” provided during their term in office.

We have to face the reality that the heart of the problems on the Downtown East Side is drugs. That, in itself, is not a big revelation, but the focus has strayed away from the need to get people off drugs. Do that, and you’re on your way to alleviating problems of health, crime, prostitution and the general fear people have of the area. We’ve tried the experiment of making it easier and “healthier” for people to take drugs, and it has not worked. For all its self-generated statistical evidence of success, the current approach of “harm reduction”, including places like InSite (the heroin equivalent of filter-tipped cigarettes), has not worked. Take a walk along Hastings between Cambie and Gore and tell me it’s made the streets safer (the way it was sold to the public almost a decade ago) and given people a new chance at life.

I believe we need to consider forced recovery treatment, not as a “punishment” for being a drug addict, but as duty of society to its people. The civil libertarians would claim that addicts are being denied their rights and that people have a choice to be addicts or quit, but I submit that someone who is lurching along the street, bent double, looking for a grain of crack that someone might have dropped and foregoing food for the sake of another hit has already lost that freedom of choice. It’s not their fault: it’s the insidious and deadly nature of the drugs.

There are three important elements, I believe, to changing people’s lives in this way:

1. Get them into treatment – real treatment programs, using proven techniques, that involve quitting and staying off

2. Help them develop a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. By doing that, they have something to focus on, rather something to turn away from. It’s the principle of “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you.” In this case, “all these things” means the “pleasure” derived from drug-taking.

3. Set up the treatment program anywhere but the Downtown East Side. If you want to get clean, get out of the cesspool. And stay out. Probably the best venue is a farm-like atmosphere or something else related to good, solid, productive work. Access should be severely limited. I can hear the howls of “concentration camp” now from the civil libertarians, but I’ve long since stopped believing they’re actually on the side of the poor (see above).

As I’ve said before, the problem on Skid Road is not homelessness. It’s hope-lessness. We need to restore hope – that intangible reason for carrying on; the liberating knowledge that none of us is capable of turning our lives around without Jesus. He is the hope that people need: the unconditional love that never fails – never has and never will.

And yes, I do see the results of that message as I see people start to rise up out of the ashes, get off the drugs ... or even start to smile again. But it’s tough to reinforce that message when the world around them – even people like mayors, members of Parliament and those who claim to be acting in their best interests – keep taking positions that such people, because they’re mentally ill and/or drug-addicted, are entitled to remain drug addicts, living on Skid Road.

It is not in our interest as a society to let any of our people live this way. God has not given up on these people: neither should we. If you talk with anyone in the Skid Road area, you’ll find they all have their stories, they all have experiences ... and they all have brains and things they can contribute. I meet artists, teachers, academics, working stiffs, chefs: people who’ve made one or two really bad mistakes and have wound up broke, on drugs or mentally ill. These people have gifts and talents to contribute and we as a society are denying ourselves those gifts.

Who among us hasn’t made a mistake? Who among us is without sin? Or are we actually being subtly self-righteous and judgmental, figuring they “made their choices” and are “paying the price”? Wracked with societal guilt, we then wail and gnash our teeth and ride off madly in all directions trying to “do something”. We forget – or ignore – the fact that Jesus already “paid the price” for everybody’s mistakes and then instructed us to reach out and help those whose fall was longer and harder than ours.