soup kitchen christmas

Merry Christmas y'all :) And it certainly is. Free sheetz coffee, phone conversation with my 96 year old great-grandfather, and new soup kitchen friends...what more could a girl ask for? ;)

As prefaced in the previous post, we spent our 'no stuff christmas' at the local soup kitchen. We arrived around 8am and left around 2pm. I'll spare the lame logistics and get to the cool and controversial stories.

I'll start with the cool ones.

*The soup kitchen doesn't skimp at Christmas....they serve up the whole who feast! Ham, turkey, stuffing, corn, yams, bread, cranberry sauce, applesauce, christmas cookies, 3 different cakes, coffee, iced tea....the works.

*My family had to wear hair nets. Including my brother and stepdad. 'Nuff said there. It was a sight to see.

**Martha/Michelle - not quite sure what her actual name is. She kept giving one or the other to different people. She works full time at the soup kitchen. She started a few months ago after moving to Johnstown. She is a recovered crack addict and alcoholic (but shouldn't be defined as such). She says she's been clean for 2 years. I was in awe. She moved to Johnstown from about an hour away. I'm pretty sure her parents have custody of her kids, so she see's them on weekends, holidays, and summers. She got divorced from her husband of 18 years shortly after he started getting high again. She said he started "runnin around with some skank whore", but she said she forgave the woman he ran away with Christmas morning (this morning). I was really taken aback by her. She was so open, but you find that at these sort of places. People were built to be with people. They just want someone to talk to. She asked for my number because she said she didn't have many friends. All her friends that still get high she cut herself off from. I gave her mine and my mothers since I'll be leaving for school in a week or so and moving south in a few months. I hope to at least have coffee with her at least once to follow up. She seemed really nice. Now I'm not naive; I have no idea how honest she was with me. But I don't really have a reason not to believe her. And if she was lying, even crack addicts need friends.

**Jacob - Martha/Michelle introduced me to Jacob while I was preparing coffee and drinks. We talked the majority of the day. He is a student at Penn State and is currently living at the halfway house in Johnstown. He got caught selling pot in a school zone and was immediately sentenced 2-4 years in prison. (Apprently Penn State is cracking down and making examples of people.) He did 2 months in county jail, and then was sent to state prison. He did a 13 month boot camp that helped to shorten his sentence. His last step is living in a halfway house for 30 days. He has two weeks left. The kicker? I thought he was volunteering with one of the church groups that was there. Clean, attractive, ready to work and help...did not seem like a convicted felon. Not really a 'wrong place, wrong time' deal, but if you ask me (and I'm not law enforcer), that penalty was a bit much for someone who was selling weed, and not even a lot. I also learned that he's Jewish and spent a month in Israel when he 16 teaching children. He is also adopted, and decided to contact his birth mother while in prison. He is meeting her in about a week and a half. His story had so many layers. At only 22 years of age, he has more life experience than probably the majority of people I go to school with. He told me about his fraternity and how school was his lowest priority, but how he is excited to get back in school and actually do work. He told me he learned a lot in prison, and the experience is what you make it. What an amazing attitude. Our family usually goes to the movies on Christmas and we were going to take him with us, but he's only allowed to leave for 3 hours at a time. He's someone I definately want to stay in contact with. I'm hoping to meet up with him for coffee this week, and I really hope Caleb can meet him. His story encouraged me, and as weird as it might sound, I'm anxious to be his friend. He said he'd call sometime tomorrow, and I genuinely hope he does.

Okay, now for the controversial.

Please keep in mind, I am human and judgmental. Just because I am a Christian and even though studying to be a pastor, does not give me an immunity to humanity. I am judgmental, selfish, and consider myself better off than others simply by how I'm dressed. Now that we're clear...

I was disturbed by the stale-perfumed church women that stood around and didn't interact with anyone. My family arrived around 8am, and by the time the church folk began to arrive to help, the majority of the work was done. My stepdad busted his ass in the kitchen, and my brother made more pots of coffee than I could count in the old school coffee pot. My mom was always doing something. When they didn't ask her to do something, she found work to do. The pretty church folk in their pretty sweaters and scarves didn't seem to take much initiative. Even the priest who accidently took a homeless gentlemen's seat didnt't speak to him after trading him chairs and sitting right next to him. This greatly disappointed me. I got moved from a table because one of the stale-perfumed church ladies wanted to cut something. I acted polite when inside I wanted to tell her to go interact with someone who didn't look like her. I held back, by the grace of God. One woman was doing refills for the people eating and was talking about how she wasn't a waitress here and was joking about getting a tip. I wanted to tell her to shut up and serve people. And like it.

Now why is it that I find it easier to accept and extend grace and not judge the recovering crack addict and the felon, but I have to force a smile with the church folk when essentially I'm a church folk, too? Perhaps it's because they represent something so much bigger than me- Christianity. The church as a whole. And it didn't make "us" look good. Better yet, they are the hands and feet of Jesus. And their behavior reflects the character of God, whether they are nice or not. Perception can be more powerful than reality. Perhaps it's because internally I know what I feel about the church needing a lot of reform. Or perhaps it's because I never want to be one of them that can't interact with the least of these.

By no means am I perfect or trying to be a church cynic, but this behavior and attitude was an issue (And some of you might think mine is, too. I'm okay with that. E-mail me about it.) And when/if by the grace and humor of God I become a pastor, my church will learn what it looks like to serve. They'll learn what intentional, relational ministry looks like and is. And they'll freakin' memorize Matthew 25 if they need to.

Call me critical, because I am. Call me judgmental, because I am. But while you're at it, explain to me why the "non-church folk" worked harder than the pretty pew sitters. And even further, tell me who ministered to my stepdad today? And why not? Because if I'm the only image of Christianity he sees, we're in trouble. This is a great offense. And not just to me.

here's to my 'no stuff' christmas

I'm always selfish this time of year.

It never fails. No matter how much I try and white knuckle it, I always find selfishness and a sense of entitlement this time of year. "I work really hard...I've earned this...but I actually NEED this..." It's really rather pathetic. Or honest. Whichever you prefer. So this year, my family agreed to a 'no stuff' Christmas. We decided we didn't need any more 'stuff' in our lives; we have more than enough material goods. We wanted to do something that would give to people who didn't have. Please keep in mind...

I wasn't raised in a "Christian home".

My stepdad is not a Christian, and he loved the idea. (Not all non-Christians are "bad" people, my sheltered, Christian friends. He is an amazing man.) My mom did some research and we "adopted" 3 local families. She went through 2 credible organizations to find the families. Myself, my mom, brother, stepdad, stepbrother, stepsister, her boyfriend, and my fiance all went shopping for the families a few weeks ago together since the gifts were due earlier this month. We have a bit of a disconnected family dynamic (Stepfamilies can be hard. I know. I witness and am part of one.) This was the first time I remember that everyone seemed to have a good attitude and we had a good time. It was awesome. Sometimes we would split up in Wal-mart to find things, like little boys footie pajama's. Sam's Club was even more funny because my fiance Caleb had NEVER been in one. I could go on with funny stories...like how my stepsister and I convinced my mom that we had to buy one of the girls tattoo barbie...and we did :)

But even more than that, I had never enjoyed Christmas shopping so much. We were scared of what the recievers of the gifts would think of us based on what we purchased and how much we spent. We knew they'd be grateful for the help. We were told one of the mother's in one of the families (single mom, two kids) walked to the organization in the cold to try and give her kids a Christmas. And we didn't just buy gifts. We put together huge food baskets for them; balanced and nutritious. (Not to mention we bought the biggest box of fruit snacks I've ever seen.) It didn't feel like American-consumerism Christmas. It felt like the true spirit of Christmas. Loving our neighbors. Helping those in need. Why? Because we can.

Don't mistake your "stuff" as mere blessings; God equips you with what you have and are given to further His Kingdom. This includes your "stuff". Even your paycheck. (Yep, I said it.)

Sometimes I feel guilty because I'm a very comfortable, white American. My family is upper-middle class. I live in a nice house. I go to a cushy, Christian University. Yet I've served in third world countries and seen the devastation. I've seen 9x16ft rooms that house over 10 people. So sometimes, I feel a little guilty. Like something is wrong with me. Why me? Why was I born an American with all the opportunities in the world at my fingertips? And then I remember when I was in New Zealand last month, and I heard a Maori man (indigenous people of NZ) say, "I love being Maori. God made me Maori. And he didn't make a mistake." That wow'd me. It chills me. It makes me realize that God made me American for a reason. And surely it wasn't so I could keep His riches for myself.

Tomorrow is Christmas day, and my mom, my stepdad, my brother, and myself will be serving at the local soup kitchen from 8am-2pm and then probably going to the movies. I cannot wait to serve alongside Christians and non-Christians in my family. I can't wait to meet my local brothers and sisters that I didn't know existed. I cannot wait to share a smile and a coffee with them. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. People can argue it's something to make me "feel good" or that it's legalistic Christianity...whatever they want to say. My family is doing this because we see a need and are just doing our part.

My mom told me a few months back that she knows there's "more she could be doing" and wanted me to know she's "working on it". I think God is working in her, and she doesn't even know it.

Maybe next year you can try out the 'no stuff' Christmas. And I promise, you'll get much more than you ever did wrapped in pretty paper.