Jesus often started parables this way, and would then compare the kingdom to something from everyday life: a seed that grows into a tree, or yeast that leavens a batch of flour.
What I experienced today, however, seemed anything but everyday. By 11:30 this morning, I was under a bridge in a tent village of homeless addicts. Tom, a counselor I visited at the Greenville Rescue Mission (see day seventeen) invited me to tag along on his Friday afternoon visits and to bring some bag lunches.
Suzy and I set up a little assembly line in our kitchen on Thursday night to get them all done. But eventually we had twenty bag lunches made, each with a PB&J sandwich, a bag of potato chips, an apple, and a bottle of water.
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| Ready for delivery |
I met Tom at the mission and we headed towards the bridge. We turned off the road, hopped a curb, and drove down what wasn't much more than a dirt path paralleling some train tracks until we reached a clearing underneath the footings of the bridge. There were about a dozen tents scattered around in various states of disrepair, most with holes in them or tarps over them.
We first met Adam, who was still in his tent and still high, drunk, or both from the night before. He immediately tore into the bag of food and gave us the latest news from the camp. "He got arrested last night. I don't think anyone's staying in his tent." "He's making meth (but don't tell nobody)." "He's not here. He's working somewhere."
Adam walked with us around the camp as we left bags of food outside the tents of people who weren't there or were still asleep. I pictured these bags being like manna, a simple gift of food that appeared in the morning (or afternoon, as the case may be...whenever they woke up).
He walked us across a small creek to see Nicki, who was also awake. She and Adam shared a hug and a cigarette while she got her stuff together to leave for the day. Tom talked to Adam about getting some help and I talked with Nicki. She asked me about what I do and seemed genuinely surprised to learn that I was a minister (which kind of made me feel ashamed to be one, and that more ministers didn't come out here, including myself). Seeing her and Adam interact, and talking to Tom about the other people in the "village," I found myself thinking about how close this community must be, if for no other reason than simply to survive.
We got in the car and turned a few more corners so we could go to another camp on the other end of the bridge. We saw more tattered tents, some tucked up under the overpass of the bridge, and even a rough shelter made with scrap plywood. We got to meet Dierdre, Barry, and someone I recognized - Clarence, who we gave a gift card to just yesterday (he was one of the two guys walking across the parking lot, and he recognized me, too!). Tom and I talked with them, listening to their struggles, particularly where they would go when they get kicked out of that location. (The city has given them a deadline of March 23rd to be out.)
After trying to get them some help, Tom asked each of them how he could pray for them and then led us in a prayer. And right there, standing under that bridge, holding hands and offering our hurts and hopes to God, I felt like I was actually doing God's work...what Jesus would have done. I felt like I was right where God would want me to be, where Christ would be - participating in God's community here on earth, even under a bridge.
"What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it?"
The kingdom of God is like a tent village of homeless addicts living under a bridge...
