Category Archives: SM

church IS people

You might have guessed by now that I really liked Denver. The city is meh but the people are WOW! To finish the Denver part of this blog and this trip I want you to meet 2 more folks. Vivian and Lotti.

This is Vivian.

I went back to City Park on Sunday morning to help with the Homeless Communion again. I arrived quite early, about 11, and just watched as the under privileged of Denver gathered for both spiritual and physical food. It was a warm day so instead of sitting in the sun they just laid their bags in a queue and went to sit in the shade. As I stood under a tree and watched a young woman came over to me and asked, “Do you want me to pray for you?”

This shocked me, and I didn’t reply, she said again, “Hi, I’m Vivian from one of the local churches, I’m not Jehovah’s Witness or anything weird, I’m just a Christian – would you like me to pray for you?”

“Yes please” I stammered.

“What shall I pray for? Do you need a roof or some food?” I must admit this made me re-think my ward-robe, to her I looked homeless! I thought it was a Denver Hipster look but apparently it was Denver Dropout – oh well, it could be worse, I could have looked like a tourist.

“No thank you” I said, Im travelling through.

“OK” and uncorking a bottle of oil she anointed my head and prayed a simple prayer for a traveler.

She said “God bless you” and walked on. I watched, she went up to every homeless person there (about 90 of them by the end) and asked each one of them. She got about a 70% positive response but not once did she get any abuse or bad reaction.

With those who wanted she anointed them and prayed with them, chatted for a couple of minutes and walked on. She never asked for anything, she never seemed harsh or angry. Just a young woman doing what little she could to help spread the love of God.

It was oddly lovely to watch. She will never read this blog, I doubt I’ll ever see her again but I pray that God blesses her in all she does. If you have a faith, please include Vivian the prayer girl in your prayers too.

Meet Lotti – my new friend Lotti.

After the Communion service in the park I need to head to the House for All Sinners and Saints. I put it into Google Maps (my new favourite app by a mile) and it told me to walk two blocks and catch a number 20 bus which was due in an hour.

Off I went and found the bus stop. Sitting on the bench was a guy so I sat down and said, “Hi.” People seem to do that here.

He looked straight at me – “Did you just say hi to a black fella?”

“Ummm, yes I did.”

“Well Lord bless me, today is a good day!” He said. “Not many folks would say hi to an old black fella like me, are you sure you want to?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Hi, I’m Siôn.”

“Well Sharn (that’s how they say it here), it sure is good to talk to you, I’m Lotti.”

We shook hands. Well, no thats not true, I extend my hand, and so did he and then we did some weird synchronised swimming kind of thing with our hands and fingers and thumbs.

“Did yer get that?’ He asked.

“Show me again” He did. And about 10 tries later he was satisfied that I could do it. “Well done boy. Dap me.”

I looked puzzled – “Put your fist out like this” – I did, so he punched me in the hand. “That’s dappin’. We do that when you get something right.”

I’m a total social native now.

Lotti and I sat and talked for the hour the bus took to come. He found out I was a minister – “You ain’t like no white preacher I ever seen – they don’t talk to the likes of me.”

“Thank you” I said and meant it.

He loved the fact I had come from Australia but, “There are better things to do in Denver than talk to Lotti.”

You know what? I don’t think there was. He was a Veteran of Vietnam, he used to drive trucks for a living. He laughed a deep booming laugh ever time he could, he shared wisdom and stories in equal measure. He talked of his family and obviously loved them to bits, and they him. He spoke of how he hadn’t been to church for 45 years because he’d been told God didn’t have time for him and that he wasn’t good enough for the Kingdom. I lost it at this (as those who know me you can imagine), “What rubbish! God’s got more time for you than some guy in a suit who would tell you that. Did you go to Sunday School?”

“Every week, in my best clothes” he said.

“Tell me the stories of Jesus that you remember,” I said. “Who did he spend the most time with?”

He thought about that for a minute, a far away look in his eyes.

“Well, let me see, I remember something about sinners and lepers and some little tax gatherer up a tree.”

“Do you remember the story about the good church people he sat with?”

“No, sir, I don’t recall that one.”

“Because it’s not really there – Jesus didn’t go to the folks who thought they were good enough, the suits and the preachers, he went to where people didn’t think they were good enough.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, Lotti I am, take this.” I gave him the little Bible I carry in my backpack for when my iPad runs out of battery. “Read the New Testament, that starts here. Tell me what you think.”

“I will” he said.

The bus arrived, we got on. He went and sat down. “Can I sit with you?” I asked.

“You wanna sit with me?”

“Of course I do”

“Really?”

We sat and continued to talk. This was his area, people he knew got on. He introduced me to them all. We talked and laughed, we ‘shook’ hands in that strange way he taught me. There were lots of daps and smiles.

About 20 minutes later Lotti looked up and said, ‘I missed my stop, it was five back that way.”

He stood and pulled the bell chord for the next stop.

“Thank you Siôn, it’s been a real blessing, and I ain’t used that word properly in 40 years.”

We ‘shook”, we dapped and then he dragged me from my seat and hugged me. With tears in both our eyes he got off.

He thinks he was blessed – ha – I was Godsmacked again by the God of mysteries and surprises….

End note – Since I wrote this on Monday I got a phone call from Lotti yesterday – he went to his his local church on Monday and spoke to the pastor who backed up what I said and Lotti is going on Sunday to church for the first time in 45 years. He promised to call me next week and tell me how it went. Please pray for Lotti too.

P.S. I just re-read this – Please don’t think this is story about my Great American Evangelistic Crusade and my amazing powers to save the lost and wandering or how holy and wonderful I am- it is not that at all, if you think that please read it again. It is a blog about how God reaches into everyday life and does HIS thing. All I said was “Hi”, I’m pretty sure my input stopped there – the rest was God, not me (except the hand shakes, that was totally me, and I can still do it!!).

*DAP*

Church does NOT need to be complicated

At the beginning of this blog I want to thank Jerry and Nadia for letting me take part in something so holy. Thank you.

Denver has a huge, not so hidden, problem. It has a lot of homeless people. In 2013 Denver was estimated to have a population just short of 650,000 and just over 11,000 of them were homeless. That’s nearly 6% of the population without anywhere to live.

Considering the work that Bubba has just started it was good to see some of the stuff that is happening to help this forgotten section of society.

As you walk down the main street of Downtown (the 16th Street Mall) you can see lots of the homeless just sitting around. I mentioned this to Nadia and she suggested that we go and hang out with her friend Jerry Herships as he did a homeless communion.

Jerry founded AfterHours Church (www.afterhoursdenver.org), go and read about it, it’s such a great work.

One of the many things Jerry does is manage a daily homeless feeding program with Communion if you want it. A lot of the churches of Denver now take turns in running it. At midday, everyday, many of the homeless of Denver (we gave out about 100 lunches the first day I was there) gather at Civic Park and form an orderly line waiting for their food. I went more than once to help and I watched them gather from about 11am, placing their bags in line and going to sit in the shade to chat or read or hang out. A few minutes before noon the team of workers would turn up. The first time I went it was Jerry who turned up, opened a battered picnic table with the words

Jesus was homeless.

the foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.

Luke 9v58

on the top. A loaf of bread, a cup of grape juice and a cross were laid out and the ‘service’ began.

It was super simple….

The people file past and are offered communion – most say yes – a little bit of bread is dipped in the cup and handed to them with the words, “A reminder that God loves you”. Some say Amen, some just bow their heads, others just smile and say thank you or God bless you. They move on and are handed a bag of food and a bottle of water (the second time I went there was even dog food). It is very dignified, each person is treated like an individual and loved for who they are.

I helped to hand out bottles of water and each person, without fail, had something nice to say to me. From a simple thank you or a God bless you, to the one that nearly made me cry – “We all appreciate what you guys are doing, not everyone will say it but thank you.”

Then Jerry called me over and asked if I wanted to give out Communion. Having watched I knew what to do but I did ask myself if I was ready for this.

I have lost count of the number of Communion services I have led – I have done services in churches and cathedrals, in homes and hospitals, by the side of the road and in hotels, to a thousand people and to just one but I don’t think I have ever got as close to what I think Communion really means as that lunch time in a park in Denver. It was a simple, beautiful act of sharing God’s love with those who may not get love from many other sources. The gratitude and dignity of the people was amazing. Even those who choose not to take the elements did so in a dignified and polite way.

As I stood there I saw Jesus looking back at me from every face that passed, I’m sure I got more of a blessing from them than they got from me, I was the one being ministered too. One man, when I asked him if he would like Communion, said, “I’m a Baptist”, I said I’m sure that didn’t matter and he replied, “Y’know, you’re probably right.” He took the elements and said amen and I was Godsmacked again.

That simple act of sharing bread and wine (grape juice actually, but let’s not split hairs) was so profound that I know I have been changed by it. I’m not sure how yet, but there was a clunk inside me of as I stood there as if God had turned a key and opened something inside me. As I said, I don’t know what yet but…..