When the meetings had concluded, planning and writing had been done, permissions granted, dates and times set, supplies bought and delivered…I realized that this ministry of “street church” , a weekly communion service for people who are homeless, was about to begin. Wow! It’s about to be a reality…
That’s when it hit me. Reality, that is. Especially when the Rector said, “As the Deacon, you will be the one constant in the service each week; so it would be great if you will do the Homily.”
At first I was elated to be able to preach…but as a few days passed, after I pulled up the Lectionary and pondered the readings…I realized that this would not be the kind of sermon I studied about in my preaching classes. When I preach to a congregation about the love, mercy and grace of God, (the Good News) as it relates to their lives, it (hopefully) is a message that is met with open hearts and minds…but I slowly began to feel like a deer in the headlights about preaching to folks who were probably living in the deepest, darkest margins of their lives…a place where the main goal for each day is just to survive until the next one. A place where the light and love of Christ is looked upon with a great degree of skepticism. A place of broken hearts and broken spirits. A place where hope long ago left, looking for a warmer, sunnier spot to hang out.
But,then I remember what I believe in my bones; that Jesus and the Kingdom-Home he offers us all is the true reality…I just have to figure out a way to help those I pray for and speak to next week to open the door of their hearts and step over the threshold into their warm, safe, love-filled Kingdom Home.