Downtown 1/26/2014

"So during the meal Jesus got up, removed his outer garment, and wrapped a towel around his waist.  He put some water into a large bowl.  Then he began washing his disciples' feet and drying them with the towel he was wearing.... After Jesus had washed his disciples' feet and had put his outer garment back on, he sat down again.  Then he said, 'Do you understand what I have done?  You call me your teacher and Lord, and you should because that is who I am.  And if your Lord and teacher has washed your feet, you should do the same for each other.  I have set the example, and you should do for each other exactly what I have done for you.' " --John 13:4-5, 12-13

Where do I begin with what's gone on since the last blog?  I've made trips downtown about every other week since I last wrote one, but haven't been able to write about them.  My 'weekends' have either been too short due to my work schedule or filled with 'stuff to do' due to the holidays (or both).  I've had some memorable encounters downtown and wonderful experiences at McArthur Park during this time.  One encounter was at 14th and Paloma Ave a couple of weeks back.  I saw two women sitting on the sidewalk near this corner and I asked them if they were hungry as I drove by.  They told me they were and as they came over to the car they saw the clothes in the back and asked if they could have some.  I pulled over to the curb and got out and opened up the back of the car.  Well, three or four other people living on the street in this area came over and looked through the clothes too.  The first two women, it turned out, were transgender women and one told me about her efforts to film (probably with a cell phone) what life on the streets was like for them.  They both had that cough that was going around at the time.  I told them I was just getting over my cough too and sympathized with them how it (the cough) just seemed to linger forever!  Well, I gave out food and water and let everyone go through the clothes I had and then gathered them all around to pray.  They all gladly and willingly came together for me to pray for them.  I prayed for them name by name with my arms around their shoulders.  I just can't explain in words how awesome this is and I get to do it most every week!  Yesterday, I found a man named Ricardo in one of the old alleys where I have given BBQ's before.  No one is allowed to live in these two alley's anymore because the police keep running them off, but from time to time I'll see people who are just kind of passing through.  Ricardo was one of these people.  He was looking around on the ground for cans and bottles to recycle.  I'm guessing him to be about 40 years old and he was wearing a blue T-shirt and some fairly nice jeans and women's boots with about a two or three inch high heel.  He accepted the food and water, but when he saw the clothes in the back of the car he asked if I had 'ropa' (the word for clothes in Spanish).  When I opened up the back he asked if I had "lady's ropas".  It was then that I noticed his "chest" and "booty" as he called it.  This is probably why he was in a lonely alley by himself with a very small bag looking for recyclables, but God is faithful and leads me to the lost and broken because he loves them.  I was privileged to pray for Ricardo.

I have to tell you about a man named Carlos.  I have seen him sitting on the ground behind some industrial buildings near Washington Blvd and Alameda since early last summer.  He doesn't really look homeless, but I guess he is.  He is dressed OK and only has a backpack with him.  He repeatedly turns down offers for food.  About two or so months ago I asked him (since he turns down the food), if there is anything special that he needs that I can bring him.  I suggested a blanket or a jacket.  He reluctantly said he could use a blanket.  At the time I didn't have one with me and then over the next six weeks I couldn't find him.  Then about two weeks ago I finally saw him again.  I gave him a choice between a red or a blue blanket.  He accepted the blue one and thanked me.  He always is gracious towards me, but just doesn't accept any food.  Yesterday, he did accept a bottle of water.  I'm wondering if he works in the area there and just can't afford a place to live.  I'm sure he's very wary of other people in the area (it isn't the safest place to be).  Slowly, I hope to gain his trust and friendship.

Yesterday I did see Willie.  This Willie has been at every BBQ I've done downtown.  Yet, he and Dave, another old buddy of ours, were run off from their place on Wall St near Washington Blvd shortly after the last BBQ in October by the police.  They were cited for obstructing the sidewalk even though other homeless people living in tents across the street under the freeway are still there.  Willie told me where he's been living and where he's been hanging out.  In fact, the area where he's been hanging out was where I had just come from.  I had helped a woman there by the name of Lee.  When he described the area and a woman there that he knew (he didn't know her by name) it appeared to be the same woman I had just helped.  Yes, I also saw Antonio and Leticia yesterday too.  About two or three weeks ago I got a phone call from Maurice and Elaine while I was at work.  They were concerned about me because we hadn't seen each other in several weeks and they wanted to know if I was OK.  They had to move where they had been staying on 8th St east of Alameda (by the LA Times building) to the other side of the block on Hunter St.  Some of the other homeless people living around them were making that location an unhealthy environment.  I drove by there last night on my way home, but it was dark (at 6 pm) and all the homeless people on those two streets had 'gone to bed', and I wasn't sure which shelter was theirs.

I have to stop here and interject a story I heard recently from a missionary in Africa.  She was explaining that  she wanted to take some people with her and go follow-up on a church plant that they had started out in the 'bush, bush' as she described it.  It required a boat ride and a lengthy walk after the boat ride to get to them.  A famous pastor from a large western church was visiting them (the missionaries) and was going to go with them.  He asked where this church was and she (Heidi Baker) said she wasn't exactly sure where the village was, but "we'll know when we get there".  The visiting pastor was not used to doing or going anywhere with such 'vague' intentions or directions, but he went along anyway.  When the boat ride was over Heidi and her group jumped off the boat and were going to swim to shore, but the pastor wasn't prepared for that so they took the small attached dinghy to shore.  Once they got ashore there was a lot of mud and it was deep mud so that you couldn't wear shoes or sandals or anything on your feet or they would get stuck in the mud.  Your legs got black from mud all the way up to and even above your knees.  The walk in this mud was long and it was hot (like 110 degrees--after all it is Africa!).  The visiting pastor was not used to these conditions and again asked, "where is it and how much further?"  Heidi replied, "I'm not sure, but we'll know when we get there."  About an hour or so later they came upon a woman carrying some water in a cracked container. I think Heidi said it was a old sink!  Anyway, this small woman, carrying the cracked container asked the group, "Can I wash your feet?"  Remember Heidi said, "I'm not sure where this bush church is, but we'll know when we get there."  Do you think they found the church?  Love has to look like something.  So many churches here in the west get tangled up in the details of their theology and fail to act on the second great commandment, "Love your neighbor like you love yourself."  It was a great reminder in the basics of theology for all of us.

Yes, I went down to McArthur Park and ended up being given an opportunity to preach the gospel in English with my Spanish speaking friends.  I never know if I'll be given this opportunity, but while I'm there supporting them I pray for the peoples hearts that are milling around.  A couple of weeks ago this group wasn't there, but another Spanish speaking man was there and he asked me if I wanted to use his microphone and preach.  That was totally unexpected.   Yesterday, the Holy Spirit was present and one man (his name was Antonio) asked for prayer (it was all in Spanish so I don't know the details).  Another couple were listening intently (but left when I spoke--not their language I guess).  To be able to pray for the peoples hearts while these obedient servants of God preach is a privilege.  I'm blessed to be part of the 'team' and it is actually extremely exhilarating to be a part of it.  --Until next time.  John