Vacation Bible School was over. As with most functions at the church, there were leftovers. I packed the back of the car and headed for the homeless shelter.
The shelter is a two story building with the lower floor being the basement. The upper floor was locked when I arrived. The men lived below. I walked around the building and found several of the men sitting on the back porch.
“Hey, pastor, you’re out late,” said Jake.
“Well, you’d better thank the Lord, then, 'cause I’m bringing eats.”
Everyone rearranged themselves around the circular patio table. Chairs scraped across the concrete. I placed the bags of sandwiches on the table. Everyone looked at the others, waiting for someone to take the lead. I opened the bag and began taking the sandwiches out. In the bottom of the bag were some paper plates. These were scattered among the men. Someone had the forethought to go inside and bring some paper cups and a pitcher of tea.
I turned to leave, saying, “You guys enjoy.”
“Hey, pastor, why don’t you join us?”
I wasn’t hungry, but something inside urged me to join them.
We sat there for over an hour eating the variety of sandwiches, drinking sweet tea in paper cups with no ice, and telling each other our stories. By the time everyone had told their most outlandish tale, we turned to county politics. An election is coming. If you want the skinny on the local politicos go to the men’s homeless shelter.
So we got to know each other. We solved the problems of the county and adopted a slate of candidates we were willing to endorse, if anyone wants our advice.
I got in the car and headed home. “I was at the men’s shelter,” I told my wife. She just shook her head and smiled.
Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, I thought to myself. I should have come straight home. I continued to castigate myself as I fired up the laptop to browse through some blogs I like to read. And there it was in Rev. Butter’s blog of June 22:
You can find food in the strangest places--dumpsters, samples at the grocery store, a pie someone left out on their window to cool--but it's harder to find someone to eat with.
Suddenly, I understood the theology of the words, “Hey, pastor, why don’t you join us?”
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