Adventures in Urban Ministry

Hanging out at the church late last night after a number of meetings and numerous futile attempts at starting this Sunday's sermon... I decided to go out and get a bite to eat. Unfortunately my travels landed me at Checkers around the corner from the church. Checkers offered up a meal of deep fried, extra greasy hot wings! I decided to indulge. A decision met with immediately regrets, as I took my first and subsequently last bite of that first grease bomb. Oh well! My trip to Checkers did bring another interesting experience though.

As I was sitting at the drive-through, a woman, probably in her late 30s to early 40s as near as I could tell... disheveled hair, dirty clothes, slightly dazed look in her eye, standing about 5 feet from the drive-through pickup window... began a solicitation for spare change. At first I turned a deaf ear to her. I had already spotted her staring at me before I even got to the window. I could see in her face that she would be giving me some kind of spiel or plea for money.

She asked, "Sir do you happen to have any change? A nickel, a dime, a quarter? Anything you can spare. I'm hungry. I don't have any money. I've been living on the streets for the last six months."

Still trying to turn a deaf ear to this "same old song"... don't carry cash anyway besides a few coins that I have nestled in my pocket... She continues to talk "I just don't have any money, been living on the street, trying to make it, 37 years old, my whole life has been difficult, I've been on and off drugs, got mental health issues, living in an abandoned building..." When she talked, it was like one long sentence.

She continued, "I have mental health issues... I don't know whether I'm coming or going sometimes... I can't find a job... I finally got a payee, so I can get my money from the state. It's only about $70 a week, but at least it's something. But it's really not that much, especially when you owe people money from a year ago and they're waiting to get paid back... and then my payee? I don't even know if they'll give me the money... they'll probably just keep it all... I don't know."

She continues, "I like that cross hanging in your window. That's a nice cross. I saw one like it down at the Salvation Army earlier today. 'Yay though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.' I like that cross. It's nice just like that one I saw earlier today. Are you a godly man? Are you a pastor? Do you work at a church or teach?"

Now I'm thinking to myself, "Man! Sister got game!"

Again she says, "Do you work at a church or teach?"

I respond, "Actually I work at a church and teach."

"Really!" she says... "I knew it! I could see it! You have a glow about you. I see that glow in your face. I see that glow in your eyes. I knew you were a special man. I knew you were a godly man!"

Now the only way I could be glowing is if I had been exposed to some kind of radioactivity earlier that day. I've looked in the mirror enough times to know that I don't physically glow, and I know myself well enough to know that I don't have a character that would cause me to glow in any supernatural way. I've got enough flaws to prevent anything like that from happening. So, still I'm thinking, "She got game! Sister got game! She knows this game well!"

She continues talking, "I always wanted a godly man. A man with morals, a man with values, a man with goals." Suddenly there's a sense of clarity in her voice that wasn't there before.

She goes on with an aire of deep sincerity, "All I ever had was men who treated me bad... men who used drugs... men who used me to get their drugs... men who got me hooked on drugs... men took everything I had... men who I tried to help, but they used me and abused me, and treated me bad. I always wanted a good man. A godly man who would encourage me... and love me... and care for me. I always wanted a man like that. I knew you were good man."

I don't know exactly what it was. Maybe I was touched by the depth of the sincerity in her final plea? Maybe I was convicted in my own shortcomings and the fact that the man she was describing was more the man I want to be, than the man I am?

When she was done, I gave her what little change I had. It wasn't much at all. I wish I could've done more. I said to her, "Sister, come on out to the church at the corner of 42nd and Girard on Wednesday at noon. We'll give you a nice meal... and come by the church tomorrow, and we'll give you a bag of groceries. I'm sorry I don't have more change right now to come by the church. I'd like to talk to you."

She smiled and excitedly exclaimed, "I'll be there!"

I hope she comes.

Written by Frederick A Hanna