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.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
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”.
“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”.
Friday, April 8, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
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.
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