Excerpts From the Diary of a Homeless Man

Saturday June 23

10:00pm
Starting tomorrow, I’m homeless. What’s even crazier is that I’ll be homeless voluntarily. In April, Craig and I began sensing God calling us to spend 7 days and 7 nights on the streets of Canada’s poorest neighborhood, Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. At first, I wrestled to discern if I was being motivated by radicalism or love. But after months of prayer, reading the gospels’ accounts of how Jesus modeled mission, and seeking the counsel of the rest of the Servants Vancouver team, Craig and I are convinced.

We are quite excited about what we’ll learn firsthand about the lives of our homeless friends. We’re pretty sure there is no greater way to learn than to experience it ourselves. And of course it will be a fantastic way to make more friends down here, on an equal footing – rather than as service providers.

In essence this next week will be a spiritual retreat. No work! Nothing to do all day except figure out where our next meal is coming from (We’ve decided not to take any money with us).

We also want to do this as a gesture of solidarity with the growing number of people becoming homeless as the city moves with tunnel-vision towards the 2010 Olympics. Basically, inner city low income housing, such as rooming houses, are rapidly being turned into high end condos by speculators and developers, despite written promises by the government that they would protect this low income housing stock and build more. Instead, the number of homeless here has doubled to over 2000 people in the past 3 years and is expected to triple by the Olympics.

Father, teach me to love as You have loved me. I can do nothing apart from You. I am Your child, not a professional missionary. To be honest, I often don’t know how to love my homeless neighbors. Speak to Craig and I this next week. Fill our hearts with Your compassion. A soldier does not ask for ease; to suffer should be expected. I do not anticipate that this next week will be easy; be our Sustainer. Come what may, uphold our joy in You. Your name be praised, Your kingdom come, Your will be done…in our lives…in Vancouver…in Indonesia…on all the earth…as it is in heaven. Amen.

Sunday June 24

11:30pm
Today has been one long, exhausting day. After attending church, we packed up the house, loaded the truck, and moved everything to the new house. Craig and I said goodbye to the rest of the community, and ventured downtown.

At 8:30pm our time being homeless began.

Walking down Hastings St., I spotted people waving a sign on top of a yellow school bus. “Free Food from the Sikh Community” it read. Craig and I snagged a bag comprised of cookies, a wrap, and a bottled water.

We kept walking as we wanted to see more of what nightlife is like in the DTES. Outside the police station we saw a line of people. “Let’s go see what they are getting.” Soup, pastries, and coffee…compliments of the Salvation Army’s mobile kitchen. The volunteers didn’t really talk to any of us; but I’m just happy for something warm on a cold night. Manna from heaven! Two unexpected meals in just two hours.

As I write, we are settling down for the night. We found some clean cardboard on top of a dumpster in Chinatown. It took awhile to decide on a place to sleep for the night. We finally chose a nice park on the edge of Chinatown. I spread out my cardboard under a park light (for safety) on some terraced grass. The park is only two blocks from the hustling nightlife of the DTES, still it seems like an entirely different world. I’m surrounded by high-rise luxury lofts. These residential skyscrapers seem like giants ready to trample on us homeless.

As a young boy, my image of poverty came from that man on TV in the early 1990s who asked for money while being surrounded by orphans in Africa. Poverty happened somewhere far away. Now I know that’s not true. Poverty and wealth typically live right next to each other. For example, the poorest and wealthiest zip code regions in the United States neighbor each other in Birmingham, Alabama. In Los Angeles, multi-million dollar condos border Skid Row, home to thousands of homeless. The same is true here in Vancouver. Two of the city’s most popular tourist destinations (Gastown and Chinatown) hug the Downtown Eastside.

**Mental Note: If a park has lush green grass, assume that’s because there is a sprinkler system! That was a close call! All of a sudden sprinklers started going off. I had enough time to grab my bag, Bible, and journal (Thanks God!)…but the cardboard did not escape the sprinkler’s wrath. That could have been a lot worse. Now we are on benches.

Father, according to Your will, keep us safe, warm, and joyous tonight.

Monday June 25

9:27am
Granting two out of three prayer requests aint too bad. Thank You for keeping us safe and at least longing for joy last night. We were quite cold. I only had one blanket, which could not cover my face and feet at the same time. We were awake most of the night, shivering. We slept in three different parks, all on benches with cold air coming up from below. We had to walk around every few hours to heat our bodies up.

I shivered in Crab Park (by the water) from 5am to 7am when we then went to the Dugout for free coffee and soup. From 7:45-8:30am, we sat on the steps outside the Carnegie Hall community center. I was repeatedly offered rock (cocaine). We went to see if the Listening Post was open (it wasn’t) but two guys invited us into the Aboriginal Front Door for a pastry. Someone there mentioned First United Methodist Church had free blankets, so we went there. They only had three, and there were three of us asking for blankets. Thanks Lord for providing!

Lord I don’t have the strength to last all week in this cold. Uphold us. Continue to keep us safe. Fill my heart with compassion. Help me focus on You and not on the struggles. Anoint me with joy. May I speak of Your goodness with every breath.

10:30am
Lord, I’m so exhausted, sleepy, and cold. I can’t get warm. I can’t last a week on my own strength. What a beautiful position to be in! I know that only You can sustain me through this week. You promised Gideon victory, yet at one point in the battle he and his men were on the verge of fainting due to exhaustion and dehydration. They asked for water, and people refused to give them any. Father, I know following You involves suffering at times. I do not ask for You to pamper us with warm weather and no trials. But please, be our strength.

2:00pm
I’m at the main library. At 11:25, Craig and I had lunch at Harbor Light, a Salvation Army shelter. Then I read/rested in the “T.V.” room at Evelyn’s Center. Everyone in that room just listened to the radio (the TV was not on) while staring at the wall. They don’t let you fall asleep there. You must remain awake.

I’m reading The Perfect Joy of St. Francis. I figure it will be quite applicable this week. I’m realizing that my physical body cannot survive this level of voluntary poverty.

May my joy not dwindle and may I be attentive to where You are at work around me.

6:30pm
Just had dinner. It was the same as lunch. Soup. Come to think of it, that’s what I had for breakfast too. Soup. That was dinner last night also. Four straight meals of soup. The initial joy of “manna” has diminished.

Tuesday June 26

11:14am
Last night, Craig and I played bingo at Evelyn’s Center. What a mind-numbing game! With each of us having nine boards to play on, there was little time for talking. Lord, bring purpose into people’s lives!

We then sat in the TV room until 10:45pm (closing time). We watched CSI and Sopranos. Both shows had graphic drug usage, violence, and prostitution. Lord, these shows glamorize my neighborhood’s addictions and neglect to show the consequences. These are not the shows they need to be showing down here!

At 11pm we went searching for cardboard. In Chinatown we found an unlocked “cardboard only” dumpster. Other than a strong fish smell, the boxes were a good find!

Craig and I made our beds outside an unrented store front. Within ten minutes we were kicked out by a private security guard. You see their patrol cars everywhere. I tried sleeping on the steps of a church, but another hired patrol guard came and said, “Hey buddy, you can’t sleep there!” I bit my tongue because I really wanted to reply, “If I can’t sleep on the steps of a building owned by people who worship a homeless Savior, then where can I sleep?” Instead, Craig and I moseyed back to the cold park benches south of Chinatown.

I was warm when I fell asleep, but I awoke at 1am freezing cold. I shivered and slept off and on until 3:30am. At that point, Craig and I decided it was time to walk around and get some blood circulating. We ended up sitting on the sidewalk outside the bank opposite Carnegie Center. We were too cold to sleep. So we watched the night scene at Carnegie.

Craig’s eyes were swollen from allergies and we both couldn’t take the cold any more. So we walked down Carnegie alley and discovered a 24 hour clinic. Warmth! There were about 40 people attempting to sleep on chairs. Others watched yet another violent, drug-using, prostitution-glamorizing movie. Seems like the wrong medicine for that clinic to be giving to my neighbors.

We stayed there until dawn and then returned to our “cozy” benches. I slept soundly until 9am, and awoke warm and rested! At 9:30am we met Nay, Amy, and the kids at our friend Peter’s café (in the heart of the DTES). It was great to see them.

9:46pm
We had lunch at Union Gospel Mission. Manna again. I then read/slept in Oppenheimer park until 3pm. Before lying down on the park grass, one is wise to check for syringe needles and seagull crap. I was so tired I could barely read. I decided a new location might help, so I trekked to Vancouver’s main library. Read and checked emails. Told my Mom I’m alive, cold, but full of joy.

Craig and I met up for dinner, but our referral sheet had the wrong time. No dinner tonight. I wish I hadn’t thrown out that wrap from the Sikhs. I’m currently sitting in the Carnegie Center until they close at 11pm.

Help us to find a place to sleep tonight! As You see best, keep us warm, safe, dry, and rested. Give Nay and Amy energy to love on the kids. Only You will get us through this week. Teach me; may I be filled with compassion. I want to preach and model Your love like St. Francis.

Welfare Wednesday tomorrow. I’ve heard it will be like Mardi Gras in the DTES.

Wednesday June 27

3:45pm
Yesterday we heard it was going to rain at night, so Craig and I settled down under a bridge in a skatepark. The park’s sign said “everyone welcome” and that the park is always open. We figured no one would come skating at 11:30pm. We were wrong. No sooner had we dumpster dived at a construction site (found some great padded insulation) and made our beds than four skaters and a BMX biker appeared. We felt bad as we were sleeping under one of the best ramps.

After moving off to the side, we noticed a young man searching for half-used smokes. This is a common sight in the DTES, people scraping for drug residue in sidewalk cracks or picking up half-used cigarettes. The young man came over and asked if he could join us. Lex began to tell us his story. His body twitched as it fought its craving for crack. Lex had been clean for two days. Though, he shared with us that he didn’t think he would be strong enough to overcome the temptation to buy crack once he received his welfare check tomorrow. Lex also warned us to be careful in the DTES tomorrow (Welfare Wednesday). He said lots of people get mugged and have their money stolen.

We all talked until 1am when a private security guard told us to move. “But the sign says everyone is welcome, sir” I mentioned. “Everyone with a skateboard” he jeered back. “Where are we allowed to sleep?” asked Lex. Mocking the guard snickered, “In a house, duh!”

“In a house, duh!”? So being homeless is illegal. The amount welfare provides for housing is only enough to rent a tiny, one-room SRO (Single Room Occupancy hotel). There are no cooking facilities, and you share a bathroom with everyone else on the floor. It’s safer to sleep on the streets. Less violence, rape, cockroaches, and rats. The SROs are almost all run by slumlords who refuse to fix their dilapidated buildings.

“In a house, duh!”? With all the speculation surrounding Vancouver’s 2010 Olympics, the housing market is booming. The average house in Vancouver increased 24% in value last year. I don’t know of a single house in the Downtown Eastside that, despite its age, small size, and run-down state, is selling for less than a million dollars.

“In a house, duh!”? Just like in the States, people in Vancouver love to talk about minimum wage. Why not talk about a livable wage? A livable wage is the hourly amount required to have all your basic needs met when working a fulltime job. For example, in California minimum wage is set at $6.75 an hour. Yet, a livable wage for Los Angeles is estimated at $17 an hour. For Philadelphia, minimum wage is $6.25 yet a livable wage is estimated at $14.75 per hour. Any minimum wage that is below a livable wage is unjust. What’s more, as our friend Dave asks his students, where is all the talk about establishing a maximum wage?

Lex showed us a quiet spot on the dock by Science World. In three years, Olympic Village will be standing where we slept. But for last night, all was peaceful. I think the cold will be a permanent guest each night this week. Tonight it is suppose to rain again.

Rain. It’s a minor inconvenience for those with houses, but for those of us on the streets, it’s a catastrophe.

Had lunch at Union Gospel Mission (UGM). For once, no soup! Hallelujah. I lined up outside the building fairly early. There was only one other guy waiting. I struck up a conversation with him, and he quickly began to share his story:

Matt has been homeless for one week. He is not using any alcohol or drugs to dull the pain of having his dignity crushed. Though a Canadian citizen, Matt had been living in Alaska for the past three years. Unfortunately, he did not realize that his visa had expired. Matt was deported last Friday.

With $20 in his pocket, no identification, and no belongings, he somehow managed to hitchhike to Vancouver. He’s been sleeping at UGM, while working with the welfare office to get some money to rent an SRO room and have new identification cards made so that he can apply for work. Matt graduated from college with a degree in graphic arts. He confessed that six years ago he spent six months addicted to crack cocaine. I invited him to my birthday party tomorrow.

Father, help Matt to get back on his feet. May he get out of the DTES. Don’t allow him to be lured back to cocaine, like a dog to its own vomit (Pr. 26:11). Remind him of my party tomorrow so that he can experience the love of a Christian community.

Thursday June 28

3:16pm
Craig and I slept south of Science World last night. We had to walk over a mile to find a place out of the rain. Despite the precipitation, the temperature remained fairly warm through the night. I slept soundly until the sun woke us up at 5:30am. I hate to brag, but I had the most luxurious bed to sleep on last night! Craig and I spotted one-inch think sheets of Styrofoam yesterday evening. Padding and insulation all in one!

For my birthday breakfast I enjoyed a nice cup of burning hot soup, some liquid substance they called coffee, and stale bread.

At 9:30am I walked to First United Methodist Church for coffee and day-old pastries. I ended up having a great conversation with an adamant atheist. What started out as three older men (Loren, John, and William) trying to draw me in to their endless philosophical debates, transitioned to John venting his anger towards Christians on me. John had some very sound reasons for being frustrated by the Christianity he witnesses almost every day in the Downtown Eastside.

“I’m sick of seeing Christians come down here all smiley and happy, singing songs on street corners, handing out a few hotdogs, telling us we can be saved from an eternal hell, and then driving home. You Christians need to wake up to reality. My neighbors are dying down here, yet you all simply view my neighborhood as your next short-term missions project. Come for a week, feel good about yourselves, and go home. You’re nothing but monsters. Vampires who drain people of their life-giving dignity so that your pride can increase. You always have to be the providers…reminding us that we are helpless recipients. You never come to us as equals, as friends. But that’s probably because it takes time to build friendships, but my neighbors are only worth a day, or at most a week, of your time. You Christians don’t know what it means to love in practical ways until it hurts.”

Sometimes God chooses to color outside of the box. If He could use Jethro, a leader of another religion, to counsel Moses, then I suspect God can use an angry atheist to speak prophetically to the Western church. Will we have ears to hear?

After John and I finished chatting, I had one hour to get ready for my birthday party. I had heard a rumor that there were free showers and razors at Evelyn’s Center. I played a couple games of pool (lost both) while waiting my turn for a shower room. By the time my number was called, I had just enough time to wash my hair in the sink and scrape off a week’s worth of facial hair with a cheap disposable razor. Then I was off to meet up with Craig, Nay, Amy, and the kids at Peter’s café. As I walked to the café, I prayed that God would remind some of my neighbors I invited to come.

The party ended up being a great time. Amy and the kids baked a cake for me and put lots of thought into creating a birthday card. What made the party extra special is that Matt and Stan remembered to come. Stan even brought a card and gift. Matt arrived fairly depressed as he had his welfare money stolen from him while he slept yesterday. It was great to see him smiling and laughing by the end of the party.

Father, draw Matt to You; transform His life. Provide for Matt’s needs. Thank You for reminding me of how transformative it is when we welcome people into a loving Christian community as family.

Friday June 29

8:10 pm
Last night, Craig and I walked a good mile before we found cardboard. Still, You provided! During the night, it poured for a few hours. There is nothing like waking up to cold rain upon your face. Thankfully, we were able to get out of the rain before we were soaked. Still, I’m sure many of my homeless neighbors were not as lucky.

In the monotony of being homeless, food is the one thing I have looked forward to each day. It structures much of your day. To be honest, I have eaten so much this week. Free food is abundant in the Downtown Eastside.
• 7:30am Go to the Dugout for soup, coffee, and a stale bun.
• 8:30am First United Methodist Church for soup and coffee.
• 9:30am First United Methodist Church for more coffee, sandwiches, and donuts.
• 11:00am Harbor Light for soup, bread, and cake. No drink provided.
• 12:00pm Union Gospel Mission. Sometimes soup, sometimes real food! Coffee, and cake.
• 12:30pm Oppenheimer Park staff provide a meal.
• 1:00pm Mission Possible for soup and dessert pastries.
• 3:00pm Franciscan Sisters for two sandwiches and soup.
• 5:00pm Harbor Light. Soup, bread, and cake. Again, no drink provided.
• 7:00pm Union Gospel Mission. Sermon followed by real food, coffee, and cake. Best food in the Downtown Eastside.

Of course, this doesn’t include the almost daily handouts from religious groups that drive in for a few hours. Their surprise arrival breaks up our monotonous daily schedule and provides relief from the never ending soup, bad coffee, and day-old donuts. Still, I wish these groups knew that my homeless neighbors are not starving for food; they are starving for friendships. The loneliness I see down here is the worst form of poverty.

Saturday June 30

7:46 am
We slept on the ramp of Evelyn’s Center last night. It’s a popular place amongst the homeless to sleep. Thankfully, there was room for Craig and I to join the regulars. I only slept an hour or two, as the cold kept me awake. It was a cold that makes your bones ache.

Although, by the time the sun dawned, my bladder was also aching. For some reason, the city of Vancouver does not open the public bathrooms on weekends. After searching over an hour for an open restroom, I ran into Matt who was attempting the same. We finally walked about a mile to the Pacific Center train station.

After emptying my bladder, I decided to stay here in the train station in hopes of getting warm. However, I just watched a security guard walk in to the train station’s McDonalds and tackle a homeless man to the ground who was standing in line to order. I better leave before I’m next.

Sunday 7-1-2007

8:00 am
We slept on the ramp at Evelyn’s Center again. Matt joined us, as you can only stay at Union Gospel Mission five nights in a row. He had no blanket, so we gave him one of ours. Again, it was quite a cold night. We all barely slept.

I awoke at 6:30 am to find Craig and Matt gone. Matt had placed his blanket over my feet. Since we finish up our time on the streets today I gave a blanket to some guys who had just arrived to sleep for a few hours. As I walked to find a bathroom, I passed Craig asleep on a bench. He had given both his blankets away, so I put my second blanket on him.


Father, thank You for guiding our time this week. Thank You for strengthening us to endure. I finish this week full of questions. Continue to be my master teacher. Oh how I long to see Your kingdom spread here in Vancouver, throughout Indonesia, and to the ends of the earth. Send forth more laborers!

12:00 pm
Before picking up our bikes and riding home, Craig and I went to a church in the Downtown Eastside. The congregation’s average age was probably sixty years old, and I saw no kids. Like most of the churches in the Downtown Eastside, as the neighborhood changed, the congregations moved elsewhere. Now, those that continue to attend commute in each week.

The vicar asked his congregation, “Since Jesus was homeless, what does that mean for us who seek to follow Him?” After the service, another vicar invited Craig and I to stay for some refreshments. As I got in line for the food, a lady turned to me and condescendingly remarked, “Young man, it is very rude to be dressed like that in church. You should have at least taken your hat off at the altar.”

I wanted to blurt back, “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten to remove my hat as I was too busy confessing my sins,” but I knew my reaction was not motivated by love. Instead, I forced a smile, apologized, picked up my bag and left.

As I descended the church’s steps, I laughed in order to hold back the tears. I am like this church. I hear the call to die to myself and love my neighbor as Jesus loved me. Yet, as much as I long to follow this homeless Jesus, my flesh is always beckoning me in a different direction. The vicar’s question and the woman’s comment; my longing to love the poor and my innate tendency to instead only love myself. Yes, this church reminds me of myself.

Thank You Lord for so patiently molding me into Your image. I mess up often, yet You continue to hold and shape me in Your caring hands. Thank You for not giving up on me. Thank You for not giving up on us, Your church.

Thoughts From the Streets: My 7 Days of Homelessness

[The following article is written by Craig Greenfield, International Coordinator for Servants and team leader here in Vancouver. Craig and I recently spent seven days voluntarily homeless on the streets of Canada's poorest neighborhood. This reflection shares some of our experiences and thoughts from that week.]

I am sleeping on the ground. Well, on cardboard really. One of more than 2000 people who are homeless on the streets of Vancouver tonight. The majority of these homeless folks hang around a small inner city area called the Downtown Eastside. It’s the ghetto to go to in Vancouver if you are looking to score crack cocaine or hook up with a prostitute… or if you want to learn more about God’s heart for the urban poor in Canada’s most dysfunctional neighbourhood.

Servants’ charism is the incarnational approach, and we are committed as a community to intentionally living in the Downtown Eastside, rather than popping down once a week to give out sandwiches. But what does it mean to be incarnational amongst the homeless, especially when you have a family? Alexander Solzhenitsyn said, “You can't expect a man who is warm to understand a man who is cold” and Jesus, who left his own comfort zone to live and minister amongst us, prayed that we would follow in his footsteps: “as you have sent me into the world so I also send them.”

So, a couple of us decided to spend 7 days and 7 nights living and learning as homeless men on the streets of our own neighbourhood, the Downtown Eastside. A week on the streets doesn’t make us experts on homelessness. I don’t even pretend to know what it’s really like to have no safety net and nowhere to turn, for days, months or even years on end. But theologian and activist, Robert McAfee Brown said, “Where you stand determines what you see" and he’s right. This week I want to stand alongside our homeless friends, gain some insight, and hopefully get a glimpse of the streets the way God sees them.

We have no money in our pockets and no wallets, (though I have somehow accumulated 26 cents by the end of the week). We don’t have a change of clothes, but I do make my friend Jason bring deodorant. And we have chosen not to stay in shelters because there is a chronic shortage of beds. Instead we are sleeping on the ground or on park benches, huddled in doorways and on sidewalks, wherever we can find some respite. We follow others’ lead and use pieces of cardboard retrieved from dumpsters for bedding, insulation from the creeping cold that makes our bones ache.

We eat in soup kitchens – and I do mean we eat soup. Soup, soup, soup – breakfast, lunch and dinner. Nothin’ but soup…and bad coffee. Supplemented by stale donuts. No-one ever starves in the Downtown Eastside. Though you might get sick of soup and starch. There is free food at 7:30am, 8:30, 9:30, 11, 12, 1pm, 2, 3:30, 5, and 7pm. You just gotta know where to go, and at some places be willing to sit through a sermon first. (Note to new homeless people: get a list of freebies from Carnegie Hall on the corner of Main and Hastings.)

After the first two nights of shivering on park benches, chased away from almost every good spot by park sprinkler systems and security guards with blinding lights growling, “Time to move along guys,” we are almost ready to pack it in. The words of Jesus, “take up your bed and walk” take on a new meaning. It is desperately hard to sleep and we find ourselves wandering around at 5am waiting for public toilets to open (at 7am). We are like zombies, the living dead.

Thought #1: Have we criminalized homelessness?
One security guard chases us from under a bridge and my new friend Lex asks him where we can legally sleep. He replies with a roll of the eyes and a sarcastic voice, “In a house. Duh!” Lex, a guy about my age with ill-fitting clothes and feet full of blisters from trudging the streets, just shakes his head and turns away. He has nowhere to go and no money but is full of plans and hopes to get back on his feet soon. The next morning I see him again, sound asleep..sitting up. Public toilets, and even portable loos brought in for special events are locked up at night (people no longer need them at night, right?), public spaces are out of bounds for sleeping (even libraries, drop-ins and community centres will kick you out if you snooze there during the day). Busking requires a license. Everywhere we turn we find ourselves breaking the law just to get through the day and carry out normal human activities such as sleeping and going to the toilet.

“Get a job you homeless bum!” – Gladly! If I could just wake up and stop feeling like someone had injected me with horse tranquilizers. I can hardly muster enough brain cells to read my Bible and pray, let alone do anything productive – and this is after just a few days on the streets!

Thought #2: No-one chooses to be on the streets, and its really hard to get out of the Downtown Eastside vortex once you’re here.

Everyone we speak to, like Emily – about 16 and pregnant, either has hopes of trying to get some kind of housing, or has pretty much given up after a series of failures. The housing market in Vancouver is real tight, and the amount you get for accommodation on welfare ($375 a month) will only stretch to a tiny cell in a Downtown Eastside rooming house slum – no kitchen, shared bathroom, (cockroaches are free though). With nowhere to prepare food, and little money for eating out, you are forced to live in an area with lots of soup kitchens and charitable services like the Downtown Eastside. Just one of the reasons the Downtown Eastside is such a trap.

Before experiencing this shortage myself, my entrepreneurial side might have gotten excited about the heated housing market in Vancouver, and tried to figure out a way into the property speculation game. But now I think a little more hesitancy is in order. Its not right to profit from a system that spirals a basic human need like shelter out of the reach of so many.

We struggle to sleep, but the Downtown Eastside never sleeps. Even at 4am there is a gaggle of drug dealers and prostitutes congregating around the corner of Main and Hastings. The back alleys are darker and scarier at night, with people either in the throes of drug-induced ecstasy or drug-reduced agony. During the day, Hastings Street throngs with people pacing and looking for their highs. The dealers whisper as you walk by: “rock”, “morphine”, “T3’s” and “BC bud”.

I walk inside to get off the street. And I notice it is full of addicts as well. People rushing around looking for the next high, eyes glazed. Everywhere we turn, the dealers offer tempting things designed to dull our pain and make us feel good again if only for a while: “plasma-screens”, “iPods”, “designer clothes”. Luckily, disheveled people like I am this week aren’t really welcome in upmarket shopping malls and so I turn back to the street, and a different kind of drug addict.

Thought #3: We all do drugs and its only the drug dealers who win.

It’s seems to be a fundamental characteristic of human existence that we are driven to dull our pain and emptiness. For some, it’s the box in the corner of our living room that helps us to switch off from life’s stresses and watch “reality”. For me its often junk food (and boy would I kill for a Big Mac and a coke right now). For others it may be shopping, alcohol or prescription drugs. The difference between us and the folks on the streets is that a line has been drawn whereby our drugs are legal (though still quite harmful), and their drugs are not (that line has been drawn in different ways at different times in history like the prohibition era). Our drug-taking is hidden and we do it in privacy because we have homes. Today I read the words of Jesus in Luke 6 (I planned to read the whole gospel of Luke this week but I’m only up to chapter 6): “Do not judge and you will not be judged. Do not condemn and you will not be condemned.” And I think of my drug-addicted friends (the crack-addicts and the shopping addicts). Judge not Craig for there but by the grace of God you go.

The wide-spread drug use is one way of coping with the harsh life of the streets. Especially for the many with traumatic pasts or mental illness. One friend was abused as a little girl by a sick mother and her Satanic pals, and drugs became a way of forgetting that past… and her present. Once you use, it’s desperately hard to wrestle free.

Mostly though, drugs seem to be the main means of making relationships in the Downtown Eastside. Bonding over a beer, or a joint, or a crack pipe is the only way many people know how to connect with others.

It’s 10pm and I’m lying on the sidewalk reading a book, when a homeless girl asks if she can sit beside me. I hesitate because I am married. She sits anyway and pulls a can of beer out of her pocket. “Here you can have this”, she says hopefully. I actually like beer but there is something tragic about this situation. A young girl, maybe 20, is so desperate for connection with someone tonight that she will approach a complete stranger and offer them a beer in exchange for friendship. I mumble my excuses and she leaves, but I am pained by her pain.

Thought #4: People long to belong.

The people I am meeting in the Downtown Eastside are not starving for food. They are starving for friends. And the isolation of folks in the drop-in centres and soup kitchen lines is heart-breaking. There are hundreds of service-providers here. Free food, free clothing, free this and free that. And its much appreciated. But at the end of the day its still one-way charity: disempowering and de-motivating. The deepest need in the Downtown Eastside is not more soup kitchens, shelters or hand-outs. Its the need to be loved and to have someone know your name. Someone who gives a toss if you live or freeze to death tonight. In our charitable quest for efficiency, to reach the most people, and to outsource the hospitality that used to be provided to the stranger from our own homes, we have lost something critical. We have lost relationships with the poor. We feed them by the thousands. But we no longer know their names or their stories. And so they long to belong. And its precisely that breakdown of relationships, with family, friends, a support network, that makes it so hard to get off the street.

I close my book and turn over to go to sleep on my patch of cardboard and I wonder if that girl will find someone to love her, or if she will just find someone to abuse her.

Morning comes and its our last day. I never thought we’d make it but somehow we have. We have stumbled into the mind-numbing routine of drop-in centres, parks and soup kitchens that gets us through the day, along with hundreds of others.

It’s Sunday, so we go to a Downtown Eastside church and someone tells Jason to take his baseball cap off "cause its disrespectful". The vicar talks about how the Jesus we follow was homeless (Luke 9:58) and asks what does that mean for us.

I don't think it was an accident that Jesus chose to identify himself with the homeless and the poor. Remember the blind panhandler in the gospels? The disciples asked Jesus, “Who sinned here?” but Jesus rebuked them saying, “You’re missing the point. This is not a chance for you guys to play the blame-game. This is an opportunity for God’s love and mercy to flow.” (Jn 9:2) And that’s exactly what I think he’d say about the Downtown Eastside.

Send Forth Laborers

I recently read the self-written epitaph of Karen Watson. Karen was a Southern Baptist missionary in Iraq who was killed by unknown assailants on March 15, 2004. Part of her epitaph gripped my heart. She wrote:

The missionary heart:
• Cares more than some think is wise
• Risks more than some think is safe
• Dreams more than some think is practical
• Expects more than some think is possible

Oh, how my heart cries out to be like this! And how I long for the Servants Indonesia team that God is forming to have such a heart. May people call us risk-taking fools. May we dare to dream God’s dreams, and actually expect them to come true.

Karen’s words have sent me to my knees. How do I acquire such a heart? And furthermore, how can such a team of missionaries be brought together? These questions led me to the Gospels.

“When Jesus saw the multitudes, He was moved with compassion for them, because they were weary and scattered, like sheep having no shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest.’” ~ Mt. 9:36-38

This passage implies that the lack of laborers is at least partly, if not totally, due to a lack of prayer amongst us Christians for God to be sending out laborers. Perhaps this is because we do not see a ripe harvest when we look at the world, but rather a barren field. Or maybe we notice the harvest, but we overlook that it is already “white”…almost pass the time to reap a harvest. We simply see no urgency.

Either way, Jesus saw the harvest and its urgency. We read that “Jesus saw the multitudes”, not an annoying crowd of people, nor an obstacle to maneuver around, but a multitude of weary, scattered shepherdless sheep. He was moved with compassion for them. Not simply momentary, inner pity, but rather a compassion that demanded a response.

So Jesus turned to His disciples and opened their eyes to see as He does. “The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” This observation should have been obvious, but Jesus knew that we seldom see situations as we ought. Then He beckons them to pray. Pray to the One who holds the harvest in His hands. Pray for Him to send out laborers. There is a shortage; and the only way to receive more laborers is to pray to the Lord of the harvest. And where are these laborers to be sent? “Into His harvest.” Into the thick of it. But God’s laborers take comfort in knowing it is “HIS harvest”.

The Lord has kindly opened my eyes to a plentiful harvest, Indonesia’s urban poor. Those laboring in this harvest are few. Servants leadership, board of elders, and I clearly hear God calling for a pioneering team of cross-loving laborers to be raised up and sent to live amongst the urban poor in Indonesia’s capital, Jakarta. Yes, we are using various forms of communication to “publicize” the forming of this team. But ultimately, we have only one strategy for mobilizing this community of laborers. Prayer.

As I have been praying for God to send forth laborers, I have sought to listen to His heart as to the characteristics to be praying for Him to foster and uphold in us. I have been asking Him what characteristics are crucial for those of us called to be pioneer missionaries amongst the poor?

Over the last two months of listening, I have sensed God’s still small voice persistently impress the importance of three qualities: faith, hope, and love. Please allow me to expand on why these three characteristics are crucial for a pioneering team. My hope in doing this is that you will join me in praying for God to cultivate these three qualities in those of us He is calling to Jakarta.

Faith, Hope, & Love:

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” ~ 1 Cor. 13:13

“We give thanks to God always for you all, making mention of you in our prayers, remembering without ceasing your work of faith, labor of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ…” ~ 1 Thess. 1:2-3

Faith:

As I seek God’s heart for this team, I sense Him saying, “I don’t need men and women filled with eloquent speech, intellectual greatness, nor natural charisma. What I desire is cross-loving men and women who cling to me in faith. What I desire is intimacy with Me. Men and women who are so close to Me that they hear My heart and feel the pain of My people.”

We cannot have faith in something we don’t know. If our faith in God is wavering, it is because we have lost sight of the Faithful One. If this is the case, how do we increase our dwindling faith? In the words of Hudson Taylor, the founder of China Inland Mission, “Only by thinking of all that Jesus is and all He is for us…the subject of our constant thoughts. Not a striving to have faith…but a looking off to the Faithful One seems all we need.” In otherwords, As we see God’s trustworthiness, our faith will grow.

And if we long to see God more clearly, we must cry out for a pure heart. For Jesus reminds us that it is only the pure in heart who will see God (Mt. 5:8). Though, we also realize that the first of these beatitudes involves acknowledging that we are spiritually bankrupt and incapable of purifying our own hearts. So, like the Psalmist, we cry out, “Create in me a clean heart, O God” (Psalm 51:10a).

But why is this kind of faith—-this intimate knowing of the Faithful One—so important for pioneering missionaries to have cultivated in their lives? Simply put, those of us called to be part of a pioneering team must remain deeply attentive to God’s voice. It is humbling to be part of a pioneering work, for the initial team of missionaries has a major impact on the ministry’s future direction. Any pioneering mission endeavor must move forward on its knees: listening for God’s guiding voice, praying for Him to dream His dreams in them, and asking God to open their eyes to see where He is inviting them to join Him. Jesus had no other plan than to listen and follow His Father’s will. This should also be our approach.

Hope:

This active listening to the Father and abiding in His presence will increase our trust in His promises, provision, power, and goodness. From this faith stems our hope, and this hope sustains our faith. The two become intertwined. It is hope that enables us to persevere with enduring patience and joy, especially during the pioneering phase.

First of all, hope sustains us. It enables us to persevere. Paul is the great pioneer missionary of the New Testament. His God-revealed mission was to preach the Gospel where it had not yet been named (Rm. 15:20). He almost never joined an established ministry, with structures in place and movement towards an already recognized vision. Rather, he would have to patiently begin sowing the first seeds. This led Paul to offer this advice: “Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart” (Gal. 6:9).

To be part of a pioneering team often means sowing lots of seeds with little fruit at first. It seems all one does is sow seeds, yet there is nothing to reap from it. But hope reminds us to persevere. And the faith which undergirds such hope reminds us that we are not called to success but to obedience.

The slums God calls us to can often seem like strongholds of impenetrable sin and oppression. But John’s Revelation reminds us that in the end, it is the tender Lamb who sits upon the throne. All the beasts of sin and injustice cannot overpower the meek Lamb. True, our slum communities may be strongholds of the Devil. But, Christ is stronger. “When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own palace, his goods are in peace. But when a stronger than he comes upon him and overcomes him, he takes from him all his armor in which he trusted, and divides his spoils” (Lk. 11:21-22).

Nothing can frustrate the bursting forth of God’s kingdom. His kingdom is not spread through violence and domination. Rather, God chooses to use the humble and meek to advance His kingdom. Sometimes our armor of love and meekness can seem no match to the violence and oppression our communities face. Perhaps that is why Jesus reassures us that it is the meek who will inherit the earth (Mt. 5:5). And this is what we place our hope in.

There is another reason why hope is crucial for pioneer missionaries. Hope sustains us in seasons of waiting, trials, and suffering. Hope enables us to not be discouraged by delayed answers to prayer, nor by trials, suffering, and interruptions. For these are all platforms for God to manifest His grace, love, and power.

Steve Saint, whose missionary father was martyrd, came to realize, “God has rarely used a person whom He has not first sorely tried.” Those who place their hope in the One they have found to be faithful, actually become more Christ-like through their sufferings.

Paul writes that through Christ we are “more than conquerors.” What a peculiar phrase, especially when we take note of the context he wrote it in!:

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: ‘For Your sake we are killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.’ Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rm. 8:35-39).

How can we be conquerors, let alone more than conquerors, when faced with such a list of suffering? Certainly Paul is not giving us a list (tribulation, distress, persecution, etc.), and then saying we won’t be separated from Christ’s love by these things because they will never happen to us. In fact, Paul explicitly says “in all these things” we are more than conquerors. Furthermore, he quotes Psalm 44:22 which says “we are killed all day long.” So then, how are we more than conquerors?

I suppose to be a conqueror would mean that when the Devil comes against me to behead my faith, I use my spiritual armor to defeat him. How can I do “more” than this? What I believe Paul is seeking to teach us is this: For Christians, when the Devil comes at us (with trials, persecution, etc.) to behead our faith, God not only saves our faith, but he also directs the devil’s sword to chop off a little bit more of our worldliness. In otherwords, through trials and suffering, our faith is strengthened and we become more Christlike. We are “more than conquerors through Christ who loved us.”

A Christian who faced many trials once commented, “If I had not felt certain that every additional trial was ordered by infinite love and mercy, I could not have survived my accumulated sufferings.” What a beautiful testimony of how intimacy with God leads to faith in Him which overflows into sustaining hope! And this kind of hope is filled with joy.

I recently received some wise advice: the Servants Cambodia team leader told me that one of his chief aims is to uphold joy within the team…not allowing pessimism to take root.

Why is joy so important in a missionary team? Isn’t it enough to simply endure through the trials and sacrifices?

Joy is an extension of hope. You cannot have lasting joy without hope. Joy overflows in passion, and according to Paul, this zeal stirs up passion in others” (2 Cor. 9:2). In otherwords, joy is contagious.

Many of us grew up in church singing: “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love, yes they’ll know that we are Christians by our love.” Jesus promises us this truth in John 13:34-35. People will know that we are followers of Jesus by our Christlike love for one another. Psalm 51 takes this a step further:

“Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence,
And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation,
And uphold me by Your generous Spirit.
Then I will teach transgressors Your ways,
And sinners shall be converted to You.”~ Psalm 51:10-13

In otherwords, they’ll know we are Christians by our love. AND the love people see in us Christ-followers will become irresistably contagious when it overflows in joy. The second chorus could read, “And they will become Christians by our joy, by our joy, yes they will become Christians by our joy.” And as the Psalmist writes, this joy-filled hope (vs. 12) stems from faith which is nourished through an intimate abiding with God (vs. 11) which can only occur when God purifies our hearts (vs. 10).

Why is joy so contagious? John Piper once commented, “The extent of our sacrifice coupled with the depth of our joy displays the worth we put on the reward of God.” Later he expands on this concept: “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him. And the supremacy of that glory shines most brightly when the satisfaction that we have in Him endures in spite of suffering and pain in the mission of love!” The apostle Peter wrote that “to those who believe Jesus is precious” (1 Pt. 2:7a). And people will most clearly see through us just how precious Christ is when we joyfully sacrifice anything that gets in the way of loving those He has called us to, and when we joyfully accept any suffering and trials that come, for His name’s sake.

Love:

This combination of intimate faith and joy-filled hope frees us to love like Christ. For, to love like Christ is not safe. It is risky. Costly. (Though in another sense there is nothing more risk-free and rewarding.)
A simple overview of Jesus’ beatitudes will reveal the costliness of such love:

“Recall the structure of the beatitudes. There are two groups of four, and each group ends with a reference to righteousness. The first group ends with verse 6: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness." And the second group ends with verse 10: "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake."

The three beatitudes that lead to hunger for righteousness are descriptions of a kind of holy emptiness. Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn over their needy condition and the meek who hand their cause over to God. It's natural that these three descriptions of emptiness and need should be followed by a description of hunger. If you don't have something you hunger for it.

Then the next three beatitudes are descriptions not of emptiness but of fullness. The hunger is beginning to be satisfied by an overflowing mercy, a pure heart and a power to make peace. So the righteousness longed for in verse 6 is given in the form of mercy, purity, and peacemaking. The result is persecution for this very righteousness.” (John Piper)

As we are filled with God’s righteousness, it overflows in active mercy, purity, and peacemaking. Such righteous love will inevitably lead to persecution.

It is helpful in understanding the beatitudes to view their opposites. I use to think that the opposite of those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake was those who do the persecuting. Now I’m realizing that this beatitude’s opposite is actually those who always play it safe and compromise. To love like Christ is too risky and costly for them.

Such faith-grounded, hope-motivated love led Esther to risk her life by disobeying the law. Her people were about to be massacred in a genocide. She knew that to go before the king without being summoned was punished with immediate death. But she also realized that if she did not risk her life for the cause of righteous love, that all her people would be murdered. She chose to risk going before the king. In her own words, “If I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16). Esther is just one example of God’s followers laboring in risky love. Lots could be said about David, Daniel and his three friends, John the Baptist, Jesus, and the apostles.

Why do we need faith and hope in order to be free to labor in Christ-like love? Because it is our hope that Christ saved us from all eternal risk, that frees us to take a thousand temporal risks of love. For followers of Christ, all eternal risk is gone. Faith in this truth gives us the hope to joyfully labor in risk-taking love for the cause of Christ here on earth.

The book of Hebrews gives a wonderful example of how faith, hope, and love work together. While the author of Hebrews was imprisoned, some new Christians risked visiting him. They knew the possible ramifications of visiting an imprisoned Christian. Hebrews records the outcome: “For you had compassion on me in my chains, and joyfully accepted the plundering of your goods, knowing that you have a better and an enduring possession for yourselves in heaven” (Heb. 10:34).

What a beautiful account of the early church! These young Christians placed their faith in God, and trusted His promises to provide “a better and an enduring possession for [them] in heaven.” This faith in God’s Word gave them the hope needed to venture out in risky love. They knew there was a good possibility that visiting their friend in jail would bring about persecution. In faith-grounded, hope-motivated love, they chose to risk their safety. In the end, their goods were plundered. Perhaps their houses were ransacked. Or maybe a mob broke in and wrote threats on their walls. Either way, the response of these Christians is extraordinary. They rejoiced! God’s worth shone brightly that day. The only thing that could cause these Christians to rejoice was if they treasured something (or someone) else more than money, possessions, popularity, and safety.

But the greatest of these is love:
Why is love the greatest? Partly because faith and hope are only temporary. When we see God face to face, there will be no more need for faith. And on that day all of our hopes will be fulfilled. But love is eternal.

I believe there is another reason. Love is greatest because we are a community of redeemed sinners. We are not perfect and thus need to exercise loving mercy and forgiveness towards each other.

Faith, hope, and love are the three qualities I sense God saying will be crucial for those of us called to be part of the pioneering Servants Jakarta team. In humility, we must fully lean on the Spirit to cultivate and uphold these qualities in us. And as a community, we must strive together towards greater faith, hope, and love. This will certainly involve lots of forgiveness and grace towards each other.

Lord, I pray that those of us You bring together for the Servants Jakarta team will be filled with faith, hope, and love. May an intimate listening to Your heart and Word be the foundation of our faith. May our trust in You, the Faithful One, fill us with joy-filled, persevering hope. And may the combination of this faith and hope free us to joyfully risk all in labors of Christlike love.

Jesus' First Time Visitor Retention Rate

This was no ordinary day. This day marked the beginning of Jesus’ earthly ministry. And what better way to start off, than by preaching to His hometown, Bible-believing fellowship. The air was filled with anticipation. The little Nazarene synagogue was crowded with locals anxious to hear what Joseph’s Son would teach. At this rate, Jesus would be pastoring a mega-“church” in no time!

Jesus stood before the congregation, opened the scroll of Isaiah, and read the messianic text: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord" (Is. 61:1-2a). All eyes were on Him. This is every pastor’s dream. So far no one had fallen asleep; they were all eagerly attentive!

Then Jesus made a risky, bold claim: “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing” (Lk. 4:21).

Oh no! Why did He have to say that? He could offend people. After all, claiming to be the promised Messiah, would be viewed as arrogance. This was no way to keep visitors coming back!

Perhaps, it was not too late. If Jesus chose His next words wisely, He could extinguish the sparks of tension. Preach an encouraging message! Positive, self-help sermons always make people feel good about themselves.

“You arrogant fools! You claim to be God’s chosen people, yet you always reject His prophets. There are even Gentiles who listen to God’s messengers” (personal summary of Lk. 4:23-27). Not the way to start a ministry! One minute and nine seconds into Jesus’ first sermon and the congregation tried to kill Him. That must be a world record!

The above account may be written with some humor, but the issue it hints at is very serious. Let me be blunt. In our efforts to be seeker-sensitive and boost first-time visitor retention rates, there is a great temptation to cheapen the cost of discipleship through preaching entertaining, inoffensive sermons. We become lured by this temptation when our focus and desire shifts from faithfulness in ministry to fruitfulness in ministry.

The number of followers Jesus had throughout His earthly ministry fluctuated greatly. At times, crowds flocked to Him. However, John’s gospel records that in response to Jesus’ teachings, “many of His disciples went back and walked with Him no more” (John 6:66). By the end of His ministry, only a remnant of 120 remained.

Frankly, Jesus had the worst retention rate for first time visitors of anyone I know! This was not due to a lack of hospitality and compassion, but rather because Jesus would not compromise or waver from proclaiming all that His Father instructed Him to herald. He boldly cried out against all that was contrary to His Kingdom ethics…including injustice, arrogance, violence, and greed.

Martin Luther King Jr. drove right to the heart of the matter when he exclaimed:
“If I profess with the loudest voice and clearest exposition every portion of the truth of God except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ, however boldly I may be professing Christ. Where the battle rages, there the loyalty of the soldier is proved, and to be steady on all the battlefield besides is mere flight and disgrace if he flinches at that point.”

To model and speak prophetically God’s truths and character into our world will inevitably invoke ridicule and even persecution. Jesus forewarns us of this. “Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for so did their fathers to the false prophets” (Lk. 6:26). Reflecting on this verse, John Stott writes, “Universal popularity was as much the lot of the false prophets as persecution was of the true.”

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” The opposite of those blessed in this beatitude is not those who persecute but rather those who always play it safe and compromise. They are peace-fakers, or possibly even peacekeepers, who compromise righteousness in order to make or keep peace. Certainly, as Christians, we are called to be peacemakers who strive in love to overcome the enmity between us and other people. But “the goal of peace is subordinate to the goal of righteousness” (John Piper).

Let me close with a small, yet personal, example of how standing up for righteousness and justice will inevitably offend people. The following is a letter to the editor of British Columbia's Christian newspaper. The writer mocks the hospitality of the local church I attend in Vancouver. A response from the senior pastor was added to the publication:

Letter Entitled: Not Welcome In My Spare Room
So pastor Tim Dickau wants us to hand over our spare bedrooms, the way Chrysostom did - to strangers.

Sure, I'd love to have some crystal meth-crazed, unwashed, stinking guy in my home, complete with the tire iron he uses to smash car windows to get money for crack cocaine.

Obviously, I should come to Dickau's Grandview Calvary Baptist Church to learn how to be a 'real' Christian.

Vancouver's problem is not the homelessness. It's people who say things like: "Loving neighbors is basic to the call of Jesus."

Dickau would think I'm ignoring 'the call of Jesus' if I demand we round up the drug-crazed, mentally deranged homeless and lock them up where they can never get out again.

[Published email was signed]

Pastor Tim Dickau responds:
Most of the people we are inviting into our homes are strangers who have become friends over many years, people with whom we have prepared community meals, eaten together, shared stories and laughed with already in our church hall.

Most are trying to get away from drugs, and find that supportive community and housing gives them the stability to do just that.

You are welcome to come on a Thursday night to get to know some of these folks. You might be surprised.


So much for visitor retention rates! As we strive for faithfulness in ministry (leaving the fruitfulness of our ministries in God’s cultivating hands), may people never walk out of our churches because they did not experience any love. Rather, if they leave, may it be because they were offended by the ludicrous, radical, excessive love shown most clearly on the cross.

The Local Church I Attend In Vancouver

The following is an interesting letter to the editor of British Columbia's Christian newspaper which mocks the hospitality the local church I attend in Vancouver is trying to show to our homeless neighbors. A response from the senior pastor was added to the publication:

Letter Entitled: Not Welcome In My Spare Room
So pastor Tim Dickau wants us to hand over our spare bedrooms, the way Chrysostom did - to strangers.

Sure, I'd love to have some crystal meth-crazed, unwashed, stinking guy in my home, complete with the tire iron he uses to smash car windows to get money for crack cocaine.

Obviously, I should come to Dickau's Grandview Calvary Baptist Church to learn how to be a 'real' Christian.

Vancouver's problem is not the homelessness. It's people who say things like: "Loving neighbours is basic to the call of Jesus."

Dickau would think I'm ignoring 'the call of Jesus' if I demand we round up the drug-crazed, mentally deranged homeless and lock them up where they can never get out again. [Published email was signed]

Pastor Tim Dickau responds:
Most of the people we are inviting into our homes are strangers who have become friends over many years, people with whom we have prepared community meals, eaten together, shared stories and laughed with already in our church hall.

Most are trying to get away from drugs, and find that supportive community and housing gives them the stability to do just that.

You are welcome to come on a Thursday night to get to know some of these folks. You might be surprised.


What are your thoughts?