It was a huge success. Our
Neighbourhood BBQ drew in at least 150 people. Some estimate double that. It
was hard to tell in the running chaos of the afternoon and evening. There was
no doubt in my mind that the free food attracted people looking like they
didn’t have the disposable income to “eat out”.
Two young scary-looking guys from Our
Space, the downtown drop-in, were some of the first to show up. As a
Church-lady helped an elderly man from Our Space bring his bicycle into the
church, one of the young guys started cursing at the old man.
I asked “Is he a friend of yours?”
“I fucking hate him,” was the reply.
“I hate him as much as I hate everyone in there.”
“Well, as long as its all equal,” was
my probably less-than-helpful response. He came in and ate with us all
anyway.
Some good church folk had expressed
worry that the drop-in folks would scare aware the families with young kids.
But the kids seemed oblivious and unafraid – more interested in getting another
balloon animal after their first one had burst from squeezing. The Pearson
Daycare staff were busy painting children's faces - making them all strange and
scary-looking too.
If the parents were concerned, they
didn’t show it; mixing with the crowd to get the burgers and dogs as they
trickled in, off the grill. I’m guessing they were used to sharing this
neighbourhood on a day-to-day, week-to-week basis. More accustomed to rubbing
shoulders with who-ever than our church folks who drive in from the suburbs.
And it was shoulder to shoulder. Our
downstairs Auditorium filled up with neighbours, young and old. The Church
folks went into action doing their thing, just like they do whenever the Church
feeds itself. Serving tables were set up. Kitchen crew did what the kitchen
crew does.
Teens drifted in. I asked them how
they heard about it. “Saw the sign outside” and in they came.
Students showed up. “We got a flyer
in our door.”
Young families “saw the poster at the
library.”
Social workers who live in the
neighbourhood “got an email.”
Church ladies Mary and Joan shared a
laugh with me about how they seemed to just attract the inebriated in the
crowd.
“Like bees to honey” I said.
Joan told us she’d asked a familiar
face if he’d been staying out of jail. “He just laughed and hugged me,” she
said.
There was an old guy with his head
bent to the side in a permanent pose of consideration. He told me about how
someone had given him ten bucks while he was waiting for a bus earlier that
day. “I guess I owe the world something back,” he concluded. I’m pretty sure he
was Jesus dropping by for a burger and some koolaid. But then again, anyone of
those strangers could’ve been.
One of my favourite parts of the
evening was watching our Fleming Social Work Student, Tim, in action. He’d
organized the day, been the point man for volunteers, hustled donations,
planned the set-up and the clean-up. My job was to take pictures. When it came
time to make the call whether to stay outdoors or head inside ahead of the
threatening rain clouds…I loved being able to say, “It’s Tim’s call”.
When people came to me with
questions, it was so great to reply “ask Tim”. He did a great job and made it
all happen.
It wouldn’t have happened without our
Sponsor and Partners, the Peterborough Social Planning Council and the Poverty
Reduction Network’s . "Neighbours In Action” Initiative. Their super helpful and talented staff
Coordinator Christie Nash pulled together the funding, worked with Tim on so
many details, and guided our research efforts.
And that was why we went to all the
trouble. Besides the fact that it was just a great thing to do - and a lot of
fun. As a Church we are trying to find a new role for us and this building here
in this city. A simple survey (about half the people filled one out) told us
who they were and what ideas they had about the kinds of activities, programs,
or projects they’d like to see in our under-utilized church building.
For me, it was fascinating just to
meet the neighbours. Who would come out for free food? Who would come out to
support the fun? Who would want to be a part of making this neighbourhood a
closer, tighter-knit, community.
Why did the Pearson Daycare staff
show up to help make it fun for the kids? Why did the Food not Bombs volunteers
show up with veggie burgers and fresh salads? Why did the two buskers, Matt and
Matt, on their way home after a hard day, drop in and do a freebie two hour set
for us?
I guess
it’s the same reason that - as the storm clouds rushed in just before we
started serving food - everyone – guests and hosts - pitched in to help move
all the tables and chairs inside.
A house is not a home.
A neighbourhood is not a community.
A building with a steeple is not a
church.
It takes love to make the
transformation happen.
It takes a certain spirit – the
spirit of sharing; sharing food, sharing efforts, sharing music, sharing
dreams, sharing the struggles.
During the event I got into more than
a few theological discussions. Somehow folks spotted me as the resident Holy
Man (in spite of my carefully designed disguise. They wanted to know whether we
were trying to save souls with this effort.
I got to try out my Celtic
spirituality on them – babies are born “saved” I told them. We’re all just
trying to get back together to that original place of divine cooperation.
If there was a soul to be saved – it
belonged to George Street United Church. As a group of people who passionately
care about peace, community, economic justice…how can we possibly "walk
our talk" right here in this neighbourhood without linking arms and
dancing with the brothers and sisters who share this little part of the cosmos
with us?
If we are to imagine ourselves as
being in the same “kingdom of heaven” Jesus saw all around him, how can we
“see” ourselves as divine creatures in this asphalt garden our Maker’s planted
us in?
Those words I just used aren’t as
neat and tidy as “Jesus died to save us from the torments of hell”. They aren’t
as potent or scary. There’s no common formula to assure me that I’m “in” when I
used to be “out”.
I guess we’ll just have to keep
workin it out here with us that’s outside that kind of salvation. I ask “Who
wants to be "in" when all these good people are on the outs?”
I’m with Mark Twain who said “if dogs
don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go.”
If my neigbours aren’t goin' to
heaven, I’ll stay here with them and make heaven on earth til Jesus shows up
and tell us it’s so.
1 comment:
AND...that's just what I miss!!! That creativity...that special spirit that emcompasses all!!!
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