Scripture:
Mark 1:21-28
They went to Capernaum; and when the Sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God." But Jesus rebuked him, saying, "Be silent, and come out of him!" And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, "What is this? A new teaching — with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him." At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.
Five-minute Story:
On a hilly street in San Francisco, St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church offers a weekly food pantry. Every Friday, hundreds of people come with their empty shopping carts, bags, and containers of all sorts. They wait in a line that snakes down the steep hill to select their groceries from a church that opens its doors. Every Friday. Every week. St. Gregory of Nyssa feeds hundreds of people. It is a massive ministry that requires a lot of hard work, coordination, and volunteers.
My family and I signed up to serve at this outpost of Jesus’ love and care for the poor and hungry. I wanted to see for myself what I had only read about in books. What I experienced, however, far exceeded my expectations. Not only are hundreds of people fed each week but the way in which the feeding occurs is remarkable. It is a sacred undertaking.
Before the food truck arrives at St. Gregory, a corps of volunteers are needed to transform the sanctuary of the church into a food pantry. Around the altar table that occupies the center of the large octagonal room, volunteers set up a ring of tables, tarps, and crates. After setting up the room, the volunteers unload five tons of food from the truck. The food comes in cardboard boxes stacked high on wooden pallets. The preparation and arrangement of some of the finest produce in the world take the whole morning. Without the willing hands to make it happen, the Food Pantry would not be able to do what it does so well and consistently each week.
Some of the volunteers come from afar like my family did because we heard about this amazing ministry and wanted to experience it. Many more, however, drive from around the city on a regular basis to give back to the community. Still, others are themselves recipients of the groceries. Dignity and hospitality were displayed towards all who helped out, regardless of their reasons. After we set up the room, we sat down to share a meal, skillfully made by the Food Pantry director and the parish priest. Around tasty food, we got to know each other, laugh and found refreshment before the doors of the Food Pantry opened to the public.
Sacred place plays an important role in the Food Pantry ministry. In the very location where the community celebrates Eucharist, the Food Pantry provides food to the hungry. On the walls high above it all, icons of dancing saints look down. Movement around the table occurs both in creative liturgical dance in which everyone participates during worship and in the shuffling of the masses with their shopping carts and bags as they select their groceries. There is something holy in both movements. No wonder the icons look with such joy on the dance of the saints below.
In the course of our volunteering, my boys and I were assigned to box duty. The five-ton of fruits and vegetables come packaged from the growers in cardboard containers. As soon as folks put the food on the tables, the boxes needed to be broken down for recycling.
The octagonal sanctuary of St. Gregory opens to a small courtyard. Central to this outside space is a rock-hewn baptismal font. Here is where a mountain of discarded boxes beckoned us. Engaged in the process of busting apart cardboard at a font, I found myself reflecting: broken boxes; broken systems; broken people. My mind wandered to Baptism where God’s love, hospitality, and promise come to us. Here we also find God’s invitation to use our life in service to others. Somehow in the midst of discarded cardboard, my brokenness as a person came to surface. I wondered, how might I be a container for God's love? Arising within me was a deep need for open community that is shaped by a joyful dance around the table.
Over the next forty days, I will share with you stories about brokenness and community, sorrow and joy, hope and God’s invitation to participate in renewal. It is a dance of sorts for people with two left feet and palsied limbs. It is my prayer that these words might shine a little light on your path - Walt.
Reflection Questions:
How would you have reacted to Jesus' casting out of the demon in that day in the synagogue in Capernaum? Would you have been amazed or been worried at this out-of-the-ordinary display of God's power?