First Presbyterian Church Hallock, Minn.

Aug 8, 2010

Broad Street Diaries

This sermon is more like a diary, a travelogue of the mission trip some of us attended last week. Listen for a reminder that God is at work, every day, both in ways we serve and in ways we are served by others.

Sunday

It’s feels odd not to attend worship on a Sunday morning, but we had an excuse. Lindsey Klein, Darwin Kasprowicz, and I met at the Grand Forks Airport at 5:45 a.m. last Sunday. We weren’t quite bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at that hour, but we were there.

That hour of the morning is not the ideal time to meet new people, but JoAnn Parnell, the Lay Mobilizer at First Pres Grand Forks, introduced us to their youth with a remarkable amount of energy. Darwin admitted it was the first time he had seen the sunrise this summer, but it was worth it to take his first ride on an airplane.

A few hours and several cups of coffee later, we landed in Philadelphia. As our group walked through the airport security gates, a woman walked straight to us and asked: “Are you here for Broad Street Ministries?” Well, indeed we were. I decided not to ask Kate, a summer intern at Broad Street, how she picked us out of the hundreds of people milling about the airport. Apparently, we must have looked — or sounded don’t you know, like we were from Minnesota. Uff-dah.

Kate led us to the train, and about thirty minutes later we arrived in downtown Philly. Broadstreet Ministry holds their Sunday worship service in the evening, so we did end up worshiping that Sunday after all. To say it was a different worship experience than we are used to here is like saying Target Field is “different” than the baseball field in Hallock. Over two hundred people gathered that night, folk really reflecting the diversity of downtown Philadelphia. Broad Street Ministry meets in a church that once was closed, its doors bolted and electricity shut off because too few people attended. About five years ago, a smart pastor with a vision got some people together and opened those doors again.

But the church that once was closed, to survive, to be faithful in this time and place, discerned that God was calling them to be different. So, Broad Street Ministry really reflects the diversity of downtown Philadelphia — men and women living with homelessness attend every service, as do downtown business types and yuppies. People come with addictions to drugs and alcohol and addictions to Starbucks and smart phones.

So, us Minnesotans joined that diverse community which gathers around the Lord’s Table. We sang songs, prayed, listened to the word proclaimed, and then feasted on the bread of life and the cup of heaven. After each service — or really, as the last act of worship in each service — the community rolls circular tables into the sanctuary and continue the feast.

At my table sat a few teenagers, an immigrant from Japan, a older woman living with homelessness, and a small business owner. We sat in a hodgepodge of chairs donated by community members — chairs intentionally not matching one another to show the beauty of diversity. Somehow, the communion liturgy I’ve heard so many times took on a new meaning that night: and Jesus said, “this is a foretaste of the feast to come.”

Monday

Here’s a phrase never heard before in Hallock: we took the subway to Aspen Farm! A man named Rob greeted us at the “farm.” Rob, in his late thirties, has dark skin and a big smile. He explained that Aspen Farm is community garden started back in 1975. Individuals or families pay $50 a year to plant a plot, many of which yield herbs and spices, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, peppers, broccoli, carrots, potatoes, and yes….even rhubarb.

Residents of low-income areas of Philadelphia face challenges of access to healthy food. In some cases, the only stores for miles around are convenience stores that might sell potato chips and sugary drinks, but not much of anything for regular healthy meals.

Rob assigned us tasks: mowing, raking, and of course…weeding. He told me to weed along the outer fence of the garden. As he walked away, I heard him say quietly, “I’m glad you have gloves, the dogs around here really like to mark their territory along that fence line.” Since Darwin’s been working at it all summer in Hallock, he was very happy not to be assigned the mowing.

Though it was called a “farm,” Aspen Farm is different than anything around here. For instance, many of the seeds for the garden come from those in prison nearby who raise plants and send out free seeds, asking that a portion of the future harvest be given away. One thing’s for certain: the farm fed us volunteers that day. It was hard work, but the bounty of Aspen Farm is more than the beautiful produce of the harvest; hope grows there too.

Tuesday

We sleep on the floor in an old sunday school room. Our morning wake up call can range from an almost apologetic knock on the door, to unbelievably loud and annoying drumming on the giant water jugs that pepper the church.

After morning devotions, we eat breakfast in the fellowship hall and hit the road soon after. The group from Hallock and Grand Forks has been mixed in with youth and adults from 6th Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh who are also attending the Youth Ministry Initiative. Three groups go to different volunteer sites each day, always led by an intern with Broad Street Ministry.

Today my group meets William, a man living with homelessness. William tells us about a project called Photo Voice, started by an art student at local university. The student gave disposable cameras to homeless folks around the city, and asked them to snap pictures of how each person saw Philadelphia.

William then gave us disposable cameras, and we went around town for the morning looking for scenes that captured Philadelphia and called to mind the kingdom of God.

One of my favorite pictures was of a man sitting in the park. He had grocery bags beside him, holding what likely were all his earthly possessions. The man was feeding the pigeons with pieces of a stale bagel, slowly throwing crumbs to the flock. Often, before the piece even hit the ground, a bird would catch it in the air and scarf it up, the less coordinated birds not ever getting a taste.

Every month, Broad Street Ministry holds a meal called the No Barriers Dinner. The church sits within five blocks of the city’s most expensive concert hall, a seedy hotel, a homeless shelter, an art school, and many swanky office buildings. No Barriers Dinners seek to bring together the entire community, finding common ground in the sharing of food and conversation. It’s not just about feeding one another, seeing which person is the most coordinated and grabs the food first. Rather, the community dinners seek to promote a feeling of commitment to one another — everyone is invited to do more than just eat.

Wednesday

My group worked at MANNA on Wednesday, helping on an assembly line to prepare more than 1000 meals delivered to those around Philadelphia journeying with an incurable disease. MANNA developed in response to the AIDS/HIV epidemic in the 1980s. At that time, many men living with AIDS were dying alone, without nourishment or human contact. MANNA has blossomed since, and each month now prepares and hand-delivers more than 70,000 meals.

Wednesday afternoon was our free afternoon so we took in some history including the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and a really non-Hallocky farmer’s market. There was no question about what’s for dinner: a Philly Cheese Steak sandwich.

Thursday

Each night we gather for an evening program with songs, worship, Bible study, and sharing. On Thursday we look at the story of Moses and his struggle to respond to God’s call. We talk in small groups about what might look different back at home now that we’ve experienced the mission trip. How might we see the kingdom of God in Hallock or Grand Forks? Will we see God in the diversity, in the need, in the challenges of our own communities?

On Thursday afternoon, my group sorted hundreds of donated vegetables at an organization called Philabundance which feeds the hungry all over Pennsylvania. That morning, we volunteered at a public library in a low-income neighborhood. The library is a few days away from re-opening after a renovation, but it is still far from state-of-the-art. We learned that, because of school funding cuts, some public schools in impoverished areas have closed their libraries. I’m no education specialist, but I’m guessing these neighborhoods — where children’s parents aren’t well-educated and have few books at home — are the very areas that need schools with strong libraries. It struck us that even the public library needed volunteer help to complete a moderate renovation on-time.

That night, in our small groups, we responded differently when asked about how the trip would change our perspective and actions upon returning home. I know, next time I check a book out from the Hallock Public Library, or see kids on the computers there, I’ll thank God for the opportunities afforded to this community — and the responsibility we have to serve one another.

Friday

Sister Mary is a kind but brusque nun who runs the St. Frances Inn, a ministry that has been serving meals to the hungry every day since 1979. We helped them serve another, welcoming nearly 300 people living with homelessness and hunger. At St. Frances Inn, like Broad Street, meals are served in a sit-down restaurant style to the guests. We welcomed each person to a seat at a table, and brought the food to their place — a bowl of soup, a sandwich, a dessert. Many saved a portion of their meal to eat later. One of the guests I served had two children with her, both of whom were in a daze, looked exhausted and overheated, and ate only a little.

Sister Mary said their community serves with Jesus words from Matthew 25 in mind: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

That night, our week ended as it began, with a worship service including the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, but communion seemed different once again, made more rich by our experiences of the week. We were called to worship using this liturgy by Trip Porch:

We have seen God in the streets, in the neighborhoods of Philadelphia: In Center City, Kensington, Society Hill, and Mill Creek.

We have felt God in the soil of Aspen Farm, in Andre’s warm smile, in the friendly hands of those we met at Sunday Worship, Breaking Bread, and the houses of the Bethshesda Project.

We have seen God come alive through the pages of books at the [public library] as well as Books through Bars, and the nearly 300 people served at [St. Frances Inn].

We have seen what happens when people seek God and one another to make change at the Village of Arts and Humanities.

We have found God’s Kingdom in the photographic eyes of William, in the boxing lines at Philabundance and MANNA, and the food line on the Parkway.

We know God is present here in Philadelphia! But God is also in Pittsburgh, Grand Forks, and Hallock working among those who have not felt as if they were part of God’s Kingdom. And God is with us now.

As we worshipped that night, no longer were those around the table strangers, no longer did downtown Philly seem so foreign, no longer did the old sanctuary look worn-down, just well-loved. For we caught a glimpse, at that table and in the streets, in the faces of others, of the glorious Kingdom of God.