Cass Park Meditation

This past Sunday, a group of friends spent the afternoon working in Cass Park hosting a love feast for the poor and homeless. I’ve written about Cass Park several times over the last year. In all, we fed over 400 women, men and children BBQ chicken prepared by Stephanie Corp (one of the most dedicated disciples of Jesus I know).

One person commented to my wife upon seeing the “spread” of great food we brought: “Some days, being homeless ain’t so bad.” Those are words that stay with me through Monday mornings, and Thursday afternoons.

As you know, this Sunday I’m referring to was Father’s Day. Almost every person who came to the love feast knew this and welcomed us with hugs, smiles and “Happy Father’s Day” greetings. I don’t know why but I hadn’t thought about how regular holidays are perceived by those on the margin of society. I also hadn’t thought how grateful our friends would be for the time we gave to them when we could have been hiding out in our air conditioned homes, sipping lemonade (not that those are bad things).

It is easy to point out, as many do, the fact that many of the homeless men we work with are not exactly ideal fathers. Communication with their children is limited at best, non-existent at worst. Some are hooked on crack, heroine, speed, prescriptions drugs. Most are alcohol-dependant. Yet, these men are full of life, love, ideas, and generosity. One man, named Sid, drew a picture of Jesus with this inscription: “Josh, Jesus loves you.” Now there’s a message I never grow weary of hearing.

I’ve been holding on to this treasure from Barbara Brown Taylor’s memoir Leaving Church. Quoting Walter Brueggemann, Taylor reminds herself of God’s mysterious way of working in our lives: “The world for which you were preparing for all these years is slowly being taken from you, by the grace of God,” (my paraphrase).

I never imagined myself becoming a pastor, and teacher. I never imagined that one day I would look as forward to working with the poor and broken of Detroit as I do watching a great movie or attending a Pistons basketball game. I never imagined I would, week to week, stand between humanity and God, communicating to one side on behalf of the other. I never imagined I would cry with some as they bury another child, receive negative news regarding their cancer, or find out about their spouse’s infidelity. But here I am, the young boy who wanted to be a college coach, serving the church that introduced to me Jesus.

The world I was preparing for, by the grace of God, is not the world God was molding me to live in.