Wit and Wisdom’s original mandate was to present some fun and some observations about the Universe that might stir thought, action, and to hold up a mirror for the odd moment of introspection. Usually that happens in quick sound-bite versions so it doesn’t occupy too much of the readers’ busy lives. Recent events prompt the following more lengthy entry, so if you’re short on time feel free to skip it, and return to whatever you were doing: I won’t be offended.
Yours truly recently spent some time visiting a free public food program that serves more than a hundred people every night. If not for the efforts of one guy-on-a-mission, they would go without a decent meal most of the time. There’s a deep-rooted culture and code of conduct in the place. The commonality they share is a mostly peaceful co-existence, that quietly recognizes we are all in the same boat. Some teens occasionally disturb the peace doing what teens tend to do, and the odd kerfuffle occurs from the older crowd, but generally it’s just a bunch of folks being fed and chatting about events of their day.
The pain and angst rests below the surface, and often shows up in misplaced humour, peppered with obscene gestures and language that, somehow, seem less offensive than it might in another venue. I wrote about the experience and commented:
The good people of our church are so disconnected from this world, and comfortable enough in the little middle-class church neighbourhood, that we have the luxury of pretending it’s nothing to do with us.
That observation drew a response: “What do you think the suburban church can do to truly make a connection with people at the mission?”
Many moons ago, long before the T-shirts, lapel-buttons, colourful wrist bands and billboards emblazoned with WWJD, there was a book called “In His Steps”. The novel, now more than a hundred years old, was written by Charles Sheldon and was about a community that decided they would all respond to every situation they faced based on how they believed Christ would have responded. Four of us were reading the book during a trip to New York City. I was driving the T-roof Thunderbird and got us lost in the middle of the Bronx. Four white middle-class travellers, in the heart of a poverty-stricken black neighbourhood on a very hot June afternoon. After popping a quick U-turn and beating a hasty exit, one of our number referenced the book’s premise and asked “What do you suppose Christ would have done if He had been driving?” Yikes! Aaarrggh! Nothing like an instant lesson to move from academic discussion of literature into the real-world. A lengthy silence followed the question, until one of us said (I’d like to think it was me, but I’m not sure, so let’s just say “somebody”) offered: “He would have stopped the car, got out, and spent time with the people”. Needless-to-say we did not do that.
I thought of that New York experience when asked “What the suburban church can do to make a connection with people at the Mission?” Maybe the answer is as simple as: Drive your middle class car, from your middle class church and stop in at the Mission just to listen to whatever the folks wanna talk about. Underpinning much of what happens there is an unspoken message that essentially says: Please tell me that I matter, that I have value. To somebody!
To learn more of the place in which God has chosen to do some good work visit: http://www.mission.squarespace.com/
And if you’re so inclined, drop me a note to let me know what you think: alan.speak@yahoo.ca
Yours truly recently spent some time visiting a free public food program that serves more than a hundred people every night. If not for the efforts of one guy-on-a-mission, they would go without a decent meal most of the time. There’s a deep-rooted culture and code of conduct in the place. The commonality they share is a mostly peaceful co-existence, that quietly recognizes we are all in the same boat. Some teens occasionally disturb the peace doing what teens tend to do, and the odd kerfuffle occurs from the older crowd, but generally it’s just a bunch of folks being fed and chatting about events of their day.
The pain and angst rests below the surface, and often shows up in misplaced humour, peppered with obscene gestures and language that, somehow, seem less offensive than it might in another venue. I wrote about the experience and commented:
The good people of our church are so disconnected from this world, and comfortable enough in the little middle-class church neighbourhood, that we have the luxury of pretending it’s nothing to do with us.
That observation drew a response: “What do you think the suburban church can do to truly make a connection with people at the mission?”
Many moons ago, long before the T-shirts, lapel-buttons, colourful wrist bands and billboards emblazoned with WWJD, there was a book called “In His Steps”. The novel, now more than a hundred years old, was written by Charles Sheldon and was about a community that decided they would all respond to every situation they faced based on how they believed Christ would have responded. Four of us were reading the book during a trip to New York City. I was driving the T-roof Thunderbird and got us lost in the middle of the Bronx. Four white middle-class travellers, in the heart of a poverty-stricken black neighbourhood on a very hot June afternoon. After popping a quick U-turn and beating a hasty exit, one of our number referenced the book’s premise and asked “What do you suppose Christ would have done if He had been driving?” Yikes! Aaarrggh! Nothing like an instant lesson to move from academic discussion of literature into the real-world. A lengthy silence followed the question, until one of us said (I’d like to think it was me, but I’m not sure, so let’s just say “somebody”) offered: “He would have stopped the car, got out, and spent time with the people”. Needless-to-say we did not do that.
I thought of that New York experience when asked “What the suburban church can do to make a connection with people at the Mission?” Maybe the answer is as simple as: Drive your middle class car, from your middle class church and stop in at the Mission just to listen to whatever the folks wanna talk about. Underpinning much of what happens there is an unspoken message that essentially says: Please tell me that I matter, that I have value. To somebody!
To learn more of the place in which God has chosen to do some good work visit: http://www.mission.squarespace.com/
And if you’re so inclined, drop me a note to let me know what you think: alan.speak@yahoo.ca
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