hos·pi·tal·i·ty - the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.

Hospitality is my thing.  Ask my partner, whom I probably drive crazy because I constantly want to have people over for dinner.  Just this past weekend we hosted dinner for three strangers in something called mealsharing.  (More on that next time) There are few things that give me such delight as inviting people into my home and offering food, conversations, and laughs. I’m no Martha (and I don’t worry about the perfect centerpiece) but I enjoy making sure everyone feels welcome.  I don’t know where my drive for hospitality comes. I didn’t grow up in a family that threw large dinner parties.  I didn’t grow up attending them either.  Somewhere, somehow an ethic of hospitality was deeply instilled into my soul and I consider it a spiritual practice.

I see life revolving around the practices of hospitality – the generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors or strangers.  This could mean striking up a conversation with the cashier as you check out at the grocery store, saying ‘good morning’ to the guy you pass by on the street, or picking up the lost dog that’s roaming the neighborhood. 

Living and sharing hospitality is a way of life.  I have often found my own city of Raleigh, NC to be hospitable.  I encounter people saying “hello” to each other when walking by.  Just last week, Jay of Jay’s Italian ice, a pushcart across from Beasley’s Chicken and Honey, kindly struck up a conversation with me and gave me a hug before we parted ways.  It made my day.  Raleigh is host to wonderful events from the World Beer Festival to OUT! Raleigh and it’s not at all unusual for the server at some of my favorite downtown restaurants to bring a bowl of water for my two Goldens.  So I was not at all surprised when I found out that Raleigh was recently listed as one of the nations top 10 most hospitable cities.  What a great honor! 

However, this may not be your experience if you are among Raleigh’s most vulnerable population.  I was just shocked to hear that Love Wins Ministries, a nonprofit that provides hospitality to those experiencing homelessness, was kicked out of Moore Square last Saturday and threatened with arrest if they handed out biscuits and coffee – an act of hospitality they have been doing for over six years without any such threat.  

This story has received national attention, perhaps because many of our nation’s cities have been struggling with what to do with the “homeless” population.  Seen as a nuisance, our most vulnerable have seen an increase of resources decentralized, laws imposed to outlaw homelessness, and access to feeding programs cut back.  For cities such as Raleigh, where billions of dollars are invested, these “untouchables” are an eyesore and not good for business. 

I work with Love Wins Ministries.  My work there has allowed me a glimpse into the lives of those Jesus called “the least of these”.   It is easy to judge the poor, people in section 8 housing, people on welfare and Medicaid.  It is harder to take the time to listen to their stories.  Stories of a life of working in manual labor jobs, resulting in knee problems and needing to seek out disability.  Stories of compassion where sons and daughters have left good paying jobs to move to North Carolina to care for their mothers and fathers and now cannot find work.  Stories of people, who made poor decisions when they were young, have paid their time in prison, and are now trying to get back on their feet in a city with limited shelter space.  Stories of people with mental illness who need psychiatric help but end up in jail.  Most importantly – these are stories of human beings, not homeless, or untouchables, or those people.  Human Beings with real names: Rocky, Ashley, Roger, Anthony, Robert, Mike, Devon, Shon, Cassie, Darrell, Isaiah, Jeanette, Kevin, Joe, Alicia, Ski, Curtis…… 

It is my dream that I can live in a city (and country) that is hospitable to all people, no matter their lot in life. I want to live in a city that is compassionate and works in realistic and tangible ways to work with those who are experiencing homelessness - not pretend the issue doesn't exist.  I want to live in a state that doesn't cut unemployment benefits and in a city that doesn't criminalize people's compassion when trying to feed those who now have even less.  

Hospitality is more than just about feeding people.  It is about creating a safe space for all to call home, a place where everyone’s voice can be heard, where resources are shared and everyone is treated with dignity and respect.  Hospitality is a choice.  What will you choose? 

How to tend an orchid

A met a man in Moore’s Square park on Saturday.  Moore’s Square is the park where all the “homeless” people hang out.  His name is Eden.  He is originally from Bosnia.  He moved to Raleigh a few weeks ago after his money ran out in High Point.  Before High Point, he lived in South Dakota, (I believe that's what he said) then he heard there were more employment opportunities in High Point.  So much for that.

Eden, in what he referred to as his former life in Bosnia worked with orchids.  In our brief conversation, he tells me he could bring just about any orchid back to life.  “It depends” he says in his east European accent (an accent I have missed hearing since studying at Bossey).  He continues saying, “If it is under watered, it is fine, over watered – I cannot save.  No one can save.”  I shake my head as though I understand the intricacies of orchid plants. Of course overwatering is bad.

Truth is, I have an orchid plant.  It sits on what is known as the coffee bar in my kitchen next to the window.  It was beautiful when my partner, Doug, first got it for me, but now, it's a stick.  I have heard they are a difficult flower to cultivate.  I have also heard orchids will eventually bloom again if you are patient.  It’s been sitting there, flowerless, for about four months.  What Eden shares is of great interest to me.  I ask him – “So how should one care for an orchid?”

He shared the following:

1)   No one tells you this, but you should always repot an orchid plant when you get it.  It needs a new pot and new soil.
2)   Don’t over water.

3)   Water from the roots – not the top. 

Let us see what happens

He also shares that Sunday is the best day to water an orchid, stating that you water the roots of the plant before you go to church.  While you are at church, let the plant sit in the sink so the excess water drains out and when you get home, put the plant back.  I could imagine generations of Bosnian families watering their delicate orchids in this manner.  All of their orchids with beautiful buds due to the rhythm of their Sabbath watering and the prayers they received while their tenders are at worship. 

I thanked Eden for his time and help.  I immediately went home to repot my orchid carefully pulling away the old dried up soil.  Though it was a lifeless stick up top, I was happy to see life in the roots. I carefully watered the roots and placed it into fresh soil.  With all this TLC I feel like I should name my orchid.  Perhaps Eden is a fitting name.  I am not sure if it will bloom, but it looks happier all ready.  Sometimes there is a great deal of life in our roots, all we need is new soil, new surroundings, and a little patience.  

I wait with anticipation to see if both Eden’s live into their namesake. 

A country based on Christian values....

I was outside on my front porch yesterday hanging the 3 flower baskets I had just purchased.  I wanted the house to look pretty for the upcoming July 4^th festivities.  While struggling to get the “S” hook twisted in the 100 year old wood I notice our next door neighbors’ teenage boys throwing things into a van.  It’s clear they are angry as they mumble things under their voice and pace on the front porch. 

roots of that 40,000 pound tree

I’ve seen twins Kevin and Tevon grow up over the last 5 years. They are good kids, hard working; Kevin is on the football team.  They live with their aunt and uncle who have taken care of them since their mom died of a drug overdose when they were babies.  Doug and I know them as Tina and Johnny, they know them as mom and dad.   The boys are kind and now at 18, they are making plans for what is next in life. 

Our relationship changed with them after the 2011 tornado in Raleigh when a 40,000-pound tree fell on our front porch.  The boys, wanting to help us in our distress, collected $19.22 for us – we were

The $19.22

 moved to tears knowing that we had far more resources than they did.  The money is still in my top drawer as a reminder to me of this deep, compassionate and radical act of generosity.

I hear Kevin throw one last item in the truck before saying “man, I’m done with this.”  As he is walks in my direction, I ask him if everything is ok and if he needs to talk.  I slowly climb off the railing and meet him on our stoop.  He then shares that they have to move.  Due to “the sequesters” they can no longer afford the rent. 

I was dumfounded.  Shocked that we had no idea.  Saddened that good our neighbors are moving.  I asked him where they were moving.

Kevin shares that they are not sure.  They had a house they could afford but due to the lead paint could not move in.  (There is a strict list of regulations housing must abide by in order to apply housing subsidies)  My heart sank.  He continues saying that his mom is looking up hotels in the mean time.  They are without a home.

At this point I’m on the verge of crying. I know they don’t have the money for a long-term hotel stay - who would?  I know that their family will be added to a long list of others in the same predicament.  I know there is not enough houses for those who need it.  I know what thwarted transition does to people and to a family.  I have seen it first hand in my work, first working for Children Special Services in Tennessee, a program to connect children with special needs to medical resources (do to funding cuts CSS is now a shell of what it once was) and now in my work with Love Wins Ministries, an organization that serves those experiencing homeless. 

As I have learned economic despondency is a series of losses:  loss of home, loss of pride, loss of possessions, loss of pets, loss of access to bathrooms, loss of access to resources, loss of a washer and dryer, loss of simplicity, and ultimately loss of dignity…

I give Kevin and Tevon my cell number.  I tell them that they are always welcome to our home.  I give Kevin a big hug and he gives me a big hug back.   He continues his walk. 

As I make my way back up to my porch, I now feel my three flower baskets are excessive, an overcompensation to make up for the ugliness in the world. 

 

I come inside.  Earlier in the day, I posted on Facebook, a picture of former President Jimmy Carter with a quote: “If you don’t want your tax dollars to help the poor, then STOP saying you want a country based on Christian values, because you don’t.”  There are handfuls of "likes" and "shares" and two comments.  It is the comments that break my heart. 

Comment 1: Christian value is that the Church should help the poor so the government doesn’t have to.  Lazy does not equal poor. If the government helps them, the government does not give the glory to our Father, it takes all the glory for itself.

Comment 2: Our government enables the poor.

I realize my friends who posted these comments are more than likely separated from the poor.  Their comments simplify the issues, devalue the individuals and their circumstances, they assume the poor are lazy and they ultimately forget that those who are struggling to make ends meat are real human beings with children and families that will be impacted. 

I am well aware of the complexities of government assistance.  I know that while there are some who take advantage, most truly need it.   Allow me to rat out my own uncle who bitches about the poor taking advantage of such handouts while he has been collecting unemployment for over a year while working and making additional money on the side.  The reason many are poor is because of structures perpetuated by capitalism, the government, racism, and broken systems.

While my friend in comment 1 believes the church should be the sole institution helping the poor, such a reality is ridiculous, because most churches are not willing to engage in the real foundational issues that create “the poor”.  What comes to mind is the story of saving the babies down river instead of going up river to find out why the babies are there in the first place!

There are many churches that do good work in helping those in need but lets face it, most don’t.  Most hand out Easter baskets filled with chocolate and stuffed animals or food once a week.  Such work has more to do with the churchgoer’s ego than it does helping the poor.  The good Christian pats themselves on the back, proud of their service.  There is nothing glorious about this. (There are exceptions – and those who participate in such work – you know who you are!) 

When considering Jesus’ ministry, Jesus did what was most relational.  Sometimes this meant physically or spiritually healing, sometimes feeding, but most of the time it meant making a statement against the status quo, the rich or the government of the day.  The work of relationship is time-consuming and filled with challenges such as mental illness; not to mention most faith communities don’t want to get political.  

As for the second comment, there is a half-truth there.  While I don’t think it is the intention of the government to enable the poor, I think the systems in place are broken.  The system is created to keep hard working people trapped in oppressive and demoralizing ways. 

For example, while working at Children’s Special Services I was helping a woman get her son recertified in the program, which is based on income.  She was a hard-working single mom who worked full time at Wal-Mart.  I’ll never forget the look on her face when I had to tell her she no longer qualified for the program because her .10-cent per hour raise put her above the income threshold.  Her raise gave her $19.20 more per month  (before taxes) and had to let go of hundreds of dollars in health benefits for her son.  When she asked her employer if she could forego the raise, they said no.  

We are all slaves to a system.  There are waves of moments when I embrace a radical conspiracy theory where the 1% desires a world where people are slave to the fear in which they live.  Where young people who have been told over and over that education is the most important and so they take out tens of thousands of dollars in student loans to become a school teacher making $30K a year and they become slave to their debt; where individuals waive their annual doctors appointment out of fear they will be diagnosed with a horrible disease in which they cannot pay for and will inevitably be dropped from their health insurance, or worse, a mother and father, who have conservatively saved their entire lives, who have done everything right are both diagnosed with cancer and lose everything to pay for their cure – their job, their savings,  their house.  I imagine violent video games being a training ground where children learn to disconnect from their thoughts, feelings and reality while killing their opponent in a world where we now have drones thousands of miles away that can drop bombs wherever we wish – not really knowing who they are or whose they are, and not having to look them in the eye because now you only have to push a button on a screen.  

Every so often, this is the conspiracy theory I believe has been planned for us – a fleeting thought that moves through my head. That we are just puppets on a string – with just enough freedom to keep us happy, with just enough flavors of ice cream to keep us quiet, with just enough debt that we cannot risk saying or doing anything as we may lose our job, with just enough to do to make us so exhausted by the end of the day that we lack the strength to muster up the energy to do anything else.  And so we go back to watching our reality TV, concerned more for a baby that will grow up with a name North West than those living on the edges of humanity, hanging our baskets of flowers on the front porch, handing out food to the poor on Saturday, and worshiping on Sunday.  God bless America! 

Slapped in the face by grace

Luke 7:36-50

Have you been slapped by grace? 

Grace, by definition is unmerited divine assistance, so one is often surprised when grace happens.  One may experience grace when a stranger helps another pick up items that have dropped, or perhaps when late to work one day – you find all the lights on Hillsboro Street turn green at just the right time.  Grace flows freely.   But when one is slapped by grace there is an additional current that suddenly runs perpendicular and grace runs right into you.  Please note – I don’t imagine that it is grace being hard, but quite the opposite – I imagine grace being well – graceful, kind, soft.   What is hard is actually us in our stubbornness, in your “have to be right-ness”  - in our dichotomic way of existing in and seeing the world  – when this unmerited assistance runs into us – it hurts.  We are slapped by grace. 

I help an organization called Love WinsMinistries.  No, I’m not referring to Rob Bell’s Love Wins – though mutual liberation is probably found in both.  I am referring to the Love Wins Ministries at 707 West Jones Street that provides hospitality and presence to anyone experiencing homelessness.  Love Wins is best expressed through its hospitality house that provides coffee, toiletries, an advocate, conversation or just a place “to be” when the shelters are closed.  

We get slapped by grace a lot at Love Wins.

A few months ago Love Wins celebrated their birthday.  To celebrate the occasion, we threw a birthday party, invited friends and neighbors from all around.  We spent the month before collecting plates, dinnerware, chips, and other yummies to throw on the grill.  One day, during an informal meeting about what else we needed – a friend of Love Wins expressed she would like to contribute too:

“I will get my EBT right before the party.  I’m happy to buy the hotdog buns we need,” she said.

I stood shocked.  Shocked at the selflessness. Moved by the compassion.  When she left the room, I asked my colleague – “we’re not going to let her do that are we?”   My colleague responded – “why not?  She wants to share what she has.  She wants to contribute and be a part of this.”  

In that moment I was slapped in the face by grace.   I had yet to offer anything for the party and there I was witnessing hospitality and charitable giving from what Jesus considers “the least of these.” 

Have you ever been slapped in the face by grace?

I ask because in our scripture story, Simon the Pharisee was slapped by grace!

Simon fell into the trap.  He fell into that parable trap that Jesus always sets. You can see it coming– you know someone is being set up – like in Meet the Parents – where you just feel bad for the guy.  All the way back in Chapter 6 of Luke the table is being set. Jesus gathers his 12 Disciples, he preaches the Sermon on the Mount, he talks about how it’s easy to love those who do good – but what you really have to work on is loving the unlovable.  Jesus talks about being those who are hypocritical – “why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye but do not notice the log in your own?”  Jesus wants those who really love him – to hear his words and act on them.  And for those in which words are not enough – Jesus heals the centurion’s slave and raises Nain, the widow’s son.

By the middle of Luke chapter 7, Jesus’ popularity is rising.  There is discussion from Jesus and John the Baptist about whom the other is and what the other has come to do….  They have come to announce the Kingdom of God is near – but this announcement does not fulfill the expectations of God’s promises.  And God’s people act like children, sitting on the sidelines, pouting, refusing to join in the game.  God is not acting as they had expected – they refuse to respond to God’s call to join in the fulfillment of God’s redemptive purposes for the world.  And who is part of this rat pack refusing to be a part of the solution  - Simon the Pharisee - who then thinks it’s a great idea to invite Jesus to dinner! 

Such a dinner banquet was not a private affair.  It wasn’t a quiet evening sharing a community meal with close friends.  On the contrary - such a banquet was public with the paparazzi townspeople, including that woman – who was a sinner - crowded around to check things out.

We don’t know this until the end of the story – but apparently, Simon was not the most hospitable host.  According to Jesus, Simon does welcome Jesus with a kiss, give Jesus water to wash his feet, or anoint his head with oil.  All considered hospitable gestures. 

It is clear from the story that the woman is aware of who Jesus is and what he has been doing, Seeing a space to offer hospitality where Jesus’ host does not – this woman walks in.  As an expression of love and gratitude – she anoints Jesus.   We don’t know anything about her – other than she is a sinner (usually inferring prostitute).  The women’s actions violate all social norms – she has invited herself into this banquet hall, the act of anointing in this particular way has sexual overtones, and as a sinner she would be considered unclean and made Jesus unclean by touching him.   Even in modern times - this is a SCENE!

Only a small percentage of communication involves actual words: 7%, to be exact. In fact, 55% of communication is visual.  It must have been a look that Simon gave Jesus during this scene – a look of judgment, a look filled with assumptions, a look inferring “otherness”:  I am clean.  She is unclean.  I have invited you to dinner.  She is poor.  I am a distinguished gentleman, she is a prostitute, -

A look so dynamic that before Simon can say word – Jesus tells a riddle that levels the playing field for everyone.  Leaving Simon slapped in the face by grace. 

Simon learns about hospitality from the poor woman – the woman he has always differentiated himself from.  He learns about kindness from the person whom society says is unclean.  He learns what it means to be compassionate from the one who is an outcast and doesn’t fit in.  It is in this moment that  (I imagine) Simon sees his need for grace. 

This scripture demonstrates perfectly my experience with Love Wins. I am Simon the Pharisee.  I am the man blinded by ego and unable to see my need for grace and forgiveness and I need to see it.  I need to experience grace and I know I can only experience grace if my neighbor experiences grace. 

So, I will knowingly be slapped and punched by grace.  Sounds exciting right?  It’s the workout you hate to do – but you know it’s good for you.  This is the place where I am forced to take a good long look at myself – the dark corners, the scary places.  It is here that I can learn and work to unbind myself from the “otherness” that the world presses upon me and that I often carelessly participate in. 

The work of Love Wins is not to make me feel better, or because the bible tells me so.  On the contrary, I participate in the work of Love Wins because this is the place the Gospel makes sense.  

Because unbeknownst to most, there are hidden tent cities that people call home

Because on Thursday night, while thunder storms and 60 MPH winds raged through Raleigh, I knew Jay didn’t make it to the bus on time and therefore didn’t arrive at the shelter on time …and therefore was out in that thunderstorm.

Because how the hell is someone supposed to find and keep a steady job when they need to be lined up at the shelter by 4:00 PM? 

Because it shouldn’t be so damn hard to get a North Carolina ID.

Because a mother shouldn’t have to choose between her child and a safe place to sleep.

Because those who have served and protected this country deserve better.

Because there are holes in the system and injustices to address.

Because people can and do and want to change.

Because I claim a tradition that proclaims that there is good news, newness of life, and hope!

Because there is a chorus of voices asking God “where are you?” and I cannot help but wonder if God asking the same question….

Because my liberation is bound up with yours. 

Love Wins is by no means, the only place such work happens in the world. It cannot be.  Love Wins sets out to be a catalyst, an example, an inspiration, a sounding board to the work that God calls ALL of us to.

We probably are not going to eliminate poverty and homelessness.  I believe in the words of Jesus when he said, “The poor will always be with you.”  But if our work as people of God can be to focus on unwrapping ourselves from the labels we give each other and that separate us – that gives us the illusion we are safe. If we concern ourselves with the same issues Jesus was concerned: pride, injustice, hypocrisy, blindness; what Richard Rohr calls the three “P’s” – power, prestige and possessions  - then no longer will we see poor – but a child of God; no longer will we see homeless – but human, not race – but friend, not republican or democrat – but neighbor, not sexual orientation- but brother and sister in Christ.

Let it be so.