Downtown 6/12/2011

Yesterday morning at church we had communion. When the pastor came to the point where he says the line, "Do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me" I once again was left wondering, "How often?" I've thought about this verse many times before and I seem to get tangled up in the idea of doing something so often that it becomes such a ritual and then the real meaning in doing it is lost versus simply obeying the words of Jesus. Communion is a time to reflect on the sacrifice of Jesus for our sins and reflection on our lives and how desperately we need His sacrifice and mercy. As I get older, I may not actually do as many sinful things as I did when I was younger, but my thought-life, attitudes towards others and judgments of others is still a daily battle. The need for communion and continual cleansing never goes away. I thought about these things as I left church for downtown....
I have to admit I haven't been feeling too well lately. Life has been very busy the last six or seven months, I've been out of my meds for a few days and I'm a little apprehensive about some upcoming things. So when I arrived downtown (it was 1 pm) I parked in the parking lot at the Jack in the Box and just rested for about twenty minutes or so. I wasn't exactly refreshed, but I figured it was time to get going and I drove over a couple of blocks to see if Willie or Tara Lee had returned to one of the two alleys they used to stay in. However, no one was there. A few more blocks over is where Will lives so I drove over there next. In an adjacent alley from Will is where I found Willie. I haven't seen Willie in about two months at least. I heard that Tara Lee had been arrested awhile back and perhaps that was why I hadn't seen him (I heard about it from Will). Willie told me that Tara had been arrested on an old outstanding warrant (I don't know what it was for), but that he (Tara) was out and around just not in this section of town any more. There was another man by the name of John who was staying in the same alley. I was able to help both men with some supplies. While we were talking a young woman walked through the alley. Her name was Nicole and she needed help too. She told me she was looking to get to San Bernardino because that county's 'resources' were better. She wasn't specific about which resources she needed. As we looked through the trunk for any clothes she might need I came across a hooded sweater, but noticed she had on a pretty nice jacket already. She then told me the jacket was borrowed and she really could use the sweater. I didn't have any pants that fit her (pants were a big item of need Sunday) but she did need some socks. Before leaving I prayed with them. Before driving down that alley I had seen a man in a wheelchair on the street (14th) in front of the alley. In fact, the reason I had turned down the alley to begin with was because I wanted to get back to get to him. I asked Willie what his name was because I was pretty sure he was one of the three men I saw on a corner nearby last week. I cruised over to where he was and sure enough he was the same guy. Willie had told me his name was Revon. I talked with Revon for awhile, remember last week he was looking through a porn magazine the whole time I talked with one of the other men he was with. While Revon and I were talking Sunday I noticed a woman standing on a corner about a half a block away. She was a tall woman and stood out with the big blonde wig she had on. Remember this is an industrial area and on the weekends, and particulary Sundays, the only people around there are homeless people. As this woman came up the other side of the street from where we were Revon called out to her and said, "Hey, this man's got some food if you want some." She came across the street to us, but wasn't interested in anything that I had to give out. Now I had never gotten out of my car while I talked with Revon so we were eye level to eye level the whole time and I really didn't look too closely at the her (she came up behind me in the car). After she left I asked Revon what her name was in case I saw her again in the area. He told me, "That's not a her." He never did tell me his name, but I've probably seen 'her' before, just not in his 'working clothes'. Revon was interested in anything he could get from me. He even asked for a couple of dollars so he could watch the basketball game later. As I drove away I felt a little used by him, but then I thought back to the line in the communion service, "Do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me." Just what was I supposed to take from this encounter? I could tell that a lesson was starting to develop here.
I ended up driving around the 4th St bridge after that. As I drove under the bridge and on to Mission Rd I saw Michael Wayne. I hadn't seen him since last November. At that time he was about to leave to go to Portland for some Veterans Administration program. Well, he's had to come back here to take care of some legal and paperwork issues and will probably head back up there soon. One of his brothers had died recently and it was obvious he was dealing with the grief of it and our human mortality. He talked alot about his relationship intanglements and what I thought he ought to do. He was on the verge of tears several times in our conversation. We prayed about his situation and I told him I'd be back to see him. We had gone through the clothes in the trunk and he ended up with a whole new 'outfit' and was pretty happy about it.
At this point I just had to go by Lincoln Park to see if any of my friends were over there. No one I knew was at the Park but as I drove down North Main I did see Isavela (the woman in the wheelchair from a couple of months back). She was in the exact same spot as before in her wheelchair. One of the Cuban's who lives in the larger tent behind her small one was sitting with her. I asked where her husband, Javier, was but she said she didn't know, and he hadn't been around for awhile. I told her I had come by for 3 or 4 weeks in a row to check on her. She said she had heard that I did but she works and isn't always there. We don't communicate well enough for me to ask where she works and I don't understand the Cubans too well either so I didn't ask too many probing questions about her situation. The last time, when Javier was there, he spoke English well enough that we could easily understand each other. I asked if maybe Javier was working somewhere, but she didn't know. Once again, it was heartbreaking to leave her, especially not knowing what her situation really was. The Cuban man had several bottles of some kind of alcohol in a grocery bag on the ground next to him and seemed to have the 'glow' of someone who had been drinking. When I gave Isavela a hug and prayed with her she didn't smell as if she had been drinking at all. I told her I'd check in on her again, but that I'd probably be coming by on Mondays in the future (my schedule is changing in a week).
Since I was close to skid row at this point, I went prayer walking there and then over to Cloud Nine Alley. For some reason, the sameness of the activities there on skid row stuck out more than usual. The thing about skid row that is so striking to me each time I go there is the lack of motivation by the inhabitants there to try to change or improve their situation. Their mind set is to exist from day to day the same way as before, by presuming on the goodness of others (i.e. the missions and government relief programs). Then the verse from the morning came back again, "Do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me." Something was starting to get through to me. The observations and feelings of this trip downtown were starting to connect with this verse. We approach God, (pray, take communion-however often) with the same mindset as these folks approach the relief organizations. We ask for stuff, 'relief' from our problems, and guilt the same way they look for their next meal or hand-out. We are no different. "Do this as often"... I remember several years ago I was in a novelty shop in Nepal. It is a Hindu country, but both of the men who ran the store were Muslim. When they found out I was a Christian they started asking me questions about the faith. One of the questions they asked I'll never forget. "How many times does one have to forgive another?" Anyone familiar with the New Testament will remember Peter asking Jesus this same question and if seven times was suffient enough to forgive another. Jesus replied, "Seven times seventy." In other words, don't stop forgiving, because God the Father doesn't stop forgiving. I think being merciful could be added also. I pray that the relief organizations will continue to provide for these folks too. I pray that my heart will always be soft towards these people because that's the way God's is. I had written some things down on paper from the morning's church service. A couple of them were lines from songs we sang and a couple others were from the message. As I look back on what I had written down, it almost seems as though this lesson had been planned out by God in advance of the day. The four things I had written down were; 1) May my heart be not of stone, 2) Jesus came to rescue us (all of us), 3) Let go of (fill in the blank) and 4) Redemption Hill, referring to the place of Jesus' crucifixion. Each one of these phrases I had written down as terrific ideas to tell someone downtown in the course of a conversation sometime. I guess they were God's message to me first. --Until next week. John