Looking for God

An American flag sits atop the Masonic Temple building located in the heart of Cass Corridor. It's ripped down the middle. The shredded cloth flops violently in the winter swirl. From the top of this building one can see the hundreds of homeless and almost-homeless men and women who live in one of the roughest sections of downtown Detroit.

Across the Masonic Temple is Cass Tech High School. My grandfather graduated from Cass Tech. After Korea, he came back to Detroit, got his G.E.D. and went on to live a rather adventurous (in the good and not-so-good sense of the word) life. Cass Tech and the Masonic Temple form a parenthesis around Cass Park. A rather ironic inclusio. On one side, life, music, art, expression, and joy . . . on the other . . . learning, grit, ingenuity, and creativity.

In between, a rather unassuming park. Those who live here call it Crack Park, Jurassic Park, and other unmentionables.

Next to the park is a half-way house, rehab center (known as The Mariners Inn), an empty parking lot where a Salvation Army Shelter used to stand, a shelter for vets of Vietnam, a Salvation Army High-Rise (now empty) which used to be one of the largest homeless shelters in the United States.

In a word . . . this piece of land can be depressing. Yesterday as I walked around Cass Corridor by myself praying for the city, praying for our church leaders, praying for the first-time volunteers . . . I asked myself a question: Why do I keep coming back to this place? Every four months or so I start asking myself this question. The answer varies: because I'm the extension of Jesus in the world, because God requires that I use my blessings to bless others, because it feels good to serve, because . . . Yesterday a new answer emerged.

I keep coming because Cass Park, as paradoxical a place as it is, reminds me of my own spiritual poverty; my own need to experience God in the midst of silence. So, I keep coming because I'm looking for God. I look for him everywhere else (relationship, music, art, film, family, marriage, fatherhood) . . . if I find God here, I know it won't be the God I'm used to preaching and teaching. Re-thinking God used to scare me. Now, it's what sustains my faith.