"Normal -- except in a bad place"

"Normal"? Well ... 

My friend, Murray Scott, who was one of the builders working on The Lord's Rain, made that observation as he sat in his van, watching the passing scene in and around Pigeon Park. You can hear Murray's observations -- as well as those of Rachel McKinley, Jeff Ridley, John Sharp and Kathy Kinahan -- here. It's been one of the "takeaways" that I have from the project: the fact that, in spite of the obvious differences between the people who live on the Downtown East Side and those who don't, there are a lot of similarities -- perhaps more than one would imagine.

It's that takeaway that's made me less fearful of "gentrification" on the Downtown East Side. It's a wonderful opportunity for integration of what's become Vancouver's version of the "two solitudes". The "good folk" of the city, buying condominia amid the squalor and depression of Hastings Central. If each group could just see and interact with the other, rather than put up barriers of fear and loathing, people might be more inclined to help, encourage and in their way, minister to one another. The "haves" might start to see the "have-nots" as people who do have something to offer them; the "have-nots" might be less inclined to see the "haves" as starlings, waiting for a chance to push them out of their nests.

At least, that's the pipe-dream. The real picture is starting to look more like two solitudes living side by side and barely acknowledging the other -- kind of like the woman who told a Vancouver reporter recently that she went for years without saying more than two words at a time to her neighbors on her floor.

Case in point: ultra-high-end lighting boutique, right across the street from Pigeon Park.

In the background, you can see where some people are camping in one of the openings cut into the hoarding around the old building. (That's the building where two concrete cornices crashed to the ground last fall, leading the city and the owners to say, "Yeah ... I guess it's time to get that fixed!) Somehow, I don't think they'll be buying their lighting from the place across the street.

At the same time, two young men walk a white labradoodle along Carrall Street, but passing by on the other side from Pigeon Park. There's a metaphor for you!

And inside, a young couple finally finds a place to crash after what was apparently a sleepless night.

Even though it's not exactly manifesting right now, I still believe in this "integration" thing. Let patience have her perfect work ... (James 1:4) They're in the same neighborhood, and that's a start.


(Yogi Berra might say, "as long as there's proximity, people will be close.")

Yes, anyway ... how do we get to there from here? This is one case where I will use the word "evolution". The divide is too great to be paved-over by a free barbecue at Oppenheimer Park or a street party in Gastown: you won't get people to mingle at either. A commenter on John Fischer's blog a couple of years ago wrote, "Nothing positive happens until we either allow someone into our sphere or we are invited to enter someone else's. Maybe having one's bubble burst isn't such a bad thing after all." 

The barrier of fear, loathing and suspicion has to come down, and that will only come through time and a conscious effort by both sectors to stop and say "hi". When that happens, each side will recognize that the other is, as Murray put it, "normal" -- and as the contact progresses into better understanding, the "place" will be less "bad".

                                                                                                               

Homelessness, politics, and what would Jesus do?

Today's Vancouver Sun has an item that would be of great concern to the people who have been working so hard to end homelessness in the city -- and who have made a political stake in that effort. The annual homeless count is expected to show a sharp increase, despite the efforts of the past few years and Mayor Gregor Robertson's campaign promise of 2008 to end homelessness by 2015.

I've pointed out in the past that there is a subtle difference between that campaign promise and the stated goal today; the Mayor talks of street homelessness, but his promise in 2008 was to eliminate homelessness, which I contend is decidedly different. But today's item points out what a complex task this is, relying as it does on different levels of government, each with its own agenda, and ultimately on the good will of the people who actually have the money to build housing. It's easy to make a campaign commitment; it's even easier to point and sneer when that commitment isn't met (behold the turtle, who only makes progress when he sticks his neck out); there's no shortage of reasons why things haven't gone as planned.

But what about the people who are really affected by this -- and I don't mean Gregor Robertson's campaign workers or Penny Ballem's staff? We're talking about people who need a place to live -- the homeless, drug-addicted, mentally ill -- who have become, once again, socio-political footballs. Once again, The Man has let them down, as he always does. The inconvenient truth is that we need to wean people off the idea that their problems are going to be solved by any kind of worldly means.

What would Jesus do about the homelessness situation? Would He blockade construction sites or picket incoming businesses? Would He demand politicians do something? Did He make claims about "rights" or condone law-breaking?

Throughout the Gospel, Jesus reminds us about our responsibility to the poor. But at the end of the day, people who are convicted and motivated to live up to that responsibility are not moved by shame or guilt, bullying or threats, but do so out of love -- because Jesus is God and God is Love. Love -- not money, jobs, cheap housing, addiction programs -- is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING (what could be more important than God?): love your enemies; pray for those who use you spitefully.

So when you see and hear about demonstrations and protests and activists vowing to block development until they get what they want and saying things like, "we don't want those kind of people here" (referring to developers and higher-income folks moving into new projects in the Central Hastings area), we need to ask where the love is. If the love isn't there, then neither is Jesus ... and neither is God ... and neither is any blessing.

Trust me: developers and politicians -- like any human being -- respond really well to love.

Some might compare activism like protesting and blockading to Jesus' clearing out the Temple, but His actions in kicking over the tables and driving out the merchants were only half of what He did that day. He then "taught them ... 'Is it not written, "My house shall be called of all nations the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves"?'" (Mark 11:17 KJV). Matthew records that He then healed people.

Do we have something to teach those we disagree with? Are we able to heal?

Do we know better than God, what the solution to a problem should be?

If we approach the situation in love, with forgiveness and meekness of heart, we allow God in. Situations that don't look right to us start to gain meaning and we start to see what God is up to by putting us and others into those situations. Sure, they don't look right, but remember that, when Jesus was crucified, that didn't look terribly "right" to a lot of people -- but look what happened next.

Welcome (others) to my world!

On Tuesday morning, as Metro reporter Kate Webb was leaving The Lord's Rain, there was a flurry of two or three conversations going on around me. As is often the case, I was expected to listen/respond to/be part of all of them. I've often said that you don't have to be ADD to minister there, but it helps.

Anyway, I called to Kate as she left, "welcome to my world!"

An issue on the Downtown East Side over the past few months has been just that: welcoming others to their world. It's been cloaked in the protests over businesses opening up shop in the area, and that the claim that the bogeyman  called "gentrification" will drive out poor people from the only homes they can afford. But amid the rhetoric and intimidating and often illegal actions that have accompanied this, has been the notion that "we don't want those kind of people here!" The anti-poverty activists don't want people from wealthier parts of Vancouver to actually see and (horror of horrors!) interact with the locals.

(It's worth noting that a week ago, the Carnegie Community Action Project's "main organizer" and one of the leading activists in this campaign, resigned his position. Vancity Credit Union, one of CRC's main supporters, posted an item on its website about the housing situation on the DTES, and in the final paragraph, it denounces illegal activity. While the newspaper account carefully avoids making a direct connection between the two events, Vancity's statement talks about discussion involving all parties, while rhetoric from the activists pointedly rejects that idea. I can't help wondering if they really want solutions or just a forum to gripe.)

I still believe that one of the benefits of increasing business on the DTES -- especially high-end businesses like Pidgin Restaurant -- is to generate interaction between two sectors of society that have been kept apart. Yet if we're to follow Jesus' teachings that those who have need to reach out to and help those who haven't, interaction is vital. Get to know one another. See how the other half lives. Indeed, action on poverty in New York City wasn't actually taken until Jacob Riis published his groundbreaking book in 1890, presenting photos of the Bowery, Five Points and similar impoverished areas. 

These musings were brought on partly by a blog posting by John Fischer yesterday and a follow-up today, on letting others share our respective worlds. Both are worth reading, but a comment from one of John's readers yesterday (and which inspired today's follow-up) is very incisive.

"Nothing positive happens until we either allow someone into our sphere or we are invited to enter someone else's. Maybe having one's bubble burst isn't such a bad thing after all."

Two words to note in that comment are "allow" and "invited". There has to be willingness on both sides to interact. My experience at The Lord's Rain is that, regardless of the attitude of activist leaders, the people we serve on the DTES are more than willing. And that's very encouraging.

Gentrification is not a four-letter word!

The high gate used to be a drop-site for drugs and stolen property.

Today's Province newspaper gives front-page treatment to a situation that's been brewing for the past week or so on the Downtown East Side: protests over a new restaurant, Pidgin, right across the street from Gospel Mission/The Lord's Rain.





The windows are about 2/3 blacked-out from view from the street,
so I played "Secret Sam" with my BlackBerry to get a look inside.



The Province article is very well-balanced (I think the editorial is bang-on, too), as it quotes a couple of regulars in the area -- like John, whose family has run Wing's Cafe (in the same building at the Mission) since the 50s, and some of those who hang out at Pigeon Park -- as saying the protesters "aren't from around here" and it makes me wonder why they've singled out Pidgin when there are at least 4 other new restaurants within the same block -- Nelson the Seagull and Rainier Provisions in the Rainier Hotel building, the resurrected Save-On Meats a bit further west on Hastings, and Acme Cafe a couple of doors past that.

Maybe it's because Pidgin has posted a statement on its windows that hits the "gentrification" issue head-on. See, there's a fear that the current incursion into the DTES by developers, buying and renovating delapidated properties will drive out the poor. As it is, the new developments have included a lot of low-cost housing and quite a few of the people who come into The Lord's Rain have found clean, new homes in these developments.

Rather than a bogeyman, gentrification is a unique opportunity -- it's a point I've made before and it's the notice Pidgin posted in its windows makes the same point -- an opportunity for two distinct groups of people to get to know each other. Let's face it: the image most people outside the DTES have of the area is the "Canada's Worst Postal Code" label hung on it by the activists. Were they to spend any time there -- say, having a nice dinner -- they might actually see something different. They'd see human beings, like themselves, only with a key difference: they made mistakes that they were not able to recover from as elegantly as others.

Who knows? Maybe while walking from the parking space on Cordova Street or the bus stop on Hastings, the restaurant patrons might strike up a conversation with the gang in Pigeon Park, and as an old Anglican minister once said to me, "you can never hate a man once you've talked to him."

Certainly, the menu at Pidgin could attract a "different" kind of crowd. If you're into trying out "cured steelhead, asian pear, ginger, sesame" ($13) or " beef tataki, black garlic, gruyère, woodear, wasabi mayo, chips" ($14), you would be attracted to the place. You might not be so inclined if they were just another burger-and-fries place.

So foodies and others get a first-hand look -- not the story getting fed by the activists -- and then start considering solutions that step outside the gimme-gimme answers the activists keep pushing. They might even see Gospel Mission and The Lord's Rain across the street, which has been ministering to people in the area since the Great Depression and changing lives in a positive way (without taking any taxpayer money).

And maybe that's what the protesters don't want. A quote in the Province article may say more than the speaker really wanted to: “The rich don’t need another playground down here in a poor area.” Is it that they want it to stay segregated? Do they want to see the DTES stay the way it's been for most of the past 40-odd years: a cauldron of despair, drugs and living death, ignored by the well-to-do. After all, if people start seeing what it's really like and start coming up with solutions that actually might raise more people out of poverty, there won't be as great a need for activists with demands which I believe are unreasonable and unachievable -- and at the very least, require someone else to spend the money.

You have to wonder why.