Jesus demonstrates who he is through the embrace and welcome of the vulnerable. “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it (Mark 14b-15 NRSV).” While I am reading this story at our community dinner, I notice a man who regularly attends who is usually angry and aggressive. Tonight, he is calm and peaceful! Thank God! When I finish sharing the story someone yells, “Hey pastor Mike, someone needs to talk with you outside.” I would love to say that my heart leapt with joy and expectation at the request, but my first thought was, “Oh man, what crazy drama am I going to have to deal with now.” I calmed my breath and walked slowly through the side door to the street, thanking God. My friend Rose is there, standing over her broken walker crying. She was in the hospital for five weeks; her belongings all stolen by her “friend.” She tells me that she wants to end her life and sobs about how her only photos of her kids were taken. “Why would someone steal those from me?” As Rose sobs, we lament about the injustice and cruelty of the world. We are interrupted by other homeless people who want to either see if everything is ok or insert themselves into a crisis. I put my arm around Rose and listen while she cries. I pray for hope, peace, and the restoration and recovery of all things lost or stolen. Rose smiles, eyes swollen and red from tears, laughs, and tells me she just needed to see my face. Someone asks me if I can open the front door with the wheelchair ramp access for another woman who needs to leave. I tell Rose I’ll be right back with a meal. When I return, she is gone. Transformed and renewed, overwhelmed by suffering and God’s love.

Michael Cox

Our friend King who lives on the street is trying to get sober. He loves Jesus and is racked with guilt about his addiction. This morning, he was struggling with, “the shakes” that come with alcohol withdrawal. King prayed and asked God for a beer to help with his tremors. After his prayer time he noticed a woman in a wheelchair that needed help crossing the street. When he was done helping, he noticed a beer by the garbage can. Theophany! “Manifestation of deity in sensible form.” God appears to humans in ways we need him to.

King is gathered with a few other homeless folks. We are chatting about the goodness of God and the power of prayer. King has his shirt off, displaying sharpie marker artwork on his chest that looks like it was created by one of his “friends” while he was passed out. Another homeless man approaches and warns the group that they shouldn’t talk with us. He then tells us that we should not wear clerical collars if were not authorized. We explain that we are ordained but he is not having it and leaves. King becomes irritated and we diffuse the situation, talking about paranoia and trauma surrounding the church and its leaders. King invites us all to pray. We hold hands and he starts us off. Everyone prays and it’s very moving. One woman speaks in tongues and declares that she can feel the presence of the Holy Spirit. We say our goodbyes and linger in the afterglow of God’s sweet Spirit.

We walk through the park and meet a woman at the bus stop. I have met her before and can’t remember her name. We tell her that we are from Operation Nightwatch and tears well up in her eyes. “I love that place. Every time I go there, I cry. The presence of God is always there.”

We meet a man sitting on the sidewalk listening to talk radio and drinking a Steel Reserve beer. He tells me that he has faith in Christ, that “faith is near impossible to explain to someone who doesn’t have it.” He then tells me that he is on the wait list for housing and how God changed his life. Fifteen years ago, he had a dream. In the dream, God showed him a giant black hole and told him that this was where his life was headed. He woke up and has always tried to live in a way that honors God. “I try not to do what I know I shouldn’t be doing.”

“Where can I go to escape from your spirit or from your sight? If I were to climb up to the highest heavens, you would be there. If I were to dig down to the world of the dead you would also be there (Psalm 139:7-8 CEV).”

Michael Cox

We were on outreach downtown when we saw you and your friend across the street. You were getting high in the doorway and looked to be about twenty years old. When we asked you how you were doing, you looked up thoughtfully and said, “I am depressed.” What followed was one of the sweetest conversations I have ever had. You told me that you had overdosed four times and that street drugs help quiet the voices in your head. You have a prescription for anti-psychotics and for your seizures but it’s near impossible to get them filled. I offer my understanding of ADHA and why abusing Adderall can make sense on the street. Staying awake and focused might mean staying alive. You know sign language and teach us how to say, “I am having a seizure.” You are more self-aware than the world gives you credit for and talk about how communicating in sign language helps with your schizophrenia. You tell me that you have heart problems and that sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Your friend is older than you and shares his concern for you and your safety. He has saved your life several times and humbly waves off my words of praise and affirmation. You tell us how he is the only person you can trust. Throughout our conversation, you speak blessings in the name of God over us. We give you sandwiches, socks, water, and Narcan and I offer to pray for you. I ask if you want me to pray with you now or later. With great urgency and without hesitation you say, “I would like for you to pray for me right now.” We pray and your fragile body responds to the ministering Spirit of God. I pray for your heart and can feel the animation of life. It’s as if a big bowl of soup has begun to stir itself. When we’re done praying, you thank me and tell me that the prayer made you cry. Before we leave, you tell us that you think you need to go to the hospital. We call 911 and you begin to have an intense and lengthy seizure. People start to gather. Homeless people are worried that you’re overdosing and frantically ask if I have any Narcan. The owner of the art gallery we are in front of knows his homeless neighbors and is genuinely concerned. An infectious disease doctor happens to walk by, and we all make sure your windpipe is open and that you don’t smash your head on the ground. The paramedics come and are surprisingly kind. They thank us and let us know graciously and forcefully that they will take it from here. “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God (Romans 8:26-27).”

Michael Cox

Every Thursday morning, I try to visit the St Francis House. I sit in the café with a cup of coffee and wait to be invited into conversation. Last week, a woman came in who had just discovered this glorious place, a place for clothing and household items yes, but also a place of rest and healing. Pulling up a chair next to me, she told me all about a miraculous experience she had while in the hospital. Close to death and in a coma, the indescribable beauty of heaven was revealed to her. Smiling behind a plate of donuts, she described a place that looked and sounded like nothing she had ever imagined. Until she came to the St Francis House. “When I walked in, it felt like that time in the hospital. Like I was experiencing heaven on earth!” As she shared her understanding of heaven, comparing it to how she feels while visiting the St Francis House, her joy and excitement were contagious. As a street minister for Operation Nightwatch, I speak to many people who are in crisis as a result of suffering and trauma. Like the clients of the St Francis House, I come for restoration and renewal. Sometimes coffee and donuts can open the door to heaven! “Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me (Revelation 3:20 NRSV).”

Michael Cox

The Street Ministry team always prays before we do outreach. Tonight, I prayed that God would free people from bondage. That he would, “Be good news to the poor, proclaim liberty to the captives, and set the oppressed free (Luke 4:18-19).” Gabby is either quiet and sweet or agitated and screaming. Tonight, Gabby is yelling the N word. She stops yelling for a moment and seems to remember us. We talk to her every week. She takes some survival supplies and continues yelling. We meet Jeff who is also screaming. With his shirt off and yelling at the sky, Jeff tells me that he respects me and wants to be like me. We talk about how God has created us all as individuals and that we can pray and ask God for direction and wisdom. John enthusiastically agrees to pray and gets on his hands and knees. We pray for him and then he prays for us. After he says in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, his voice changes and he begins to bark other names that feel dark and demonic. When were done praying we hug, and John looks relieved, thanking us for helping him. Doctor Alice is with me, and she is able to put a fresh dressing on Rudy’s leg. Rudy is happy to get medical care at his home, the park bench and begins to yell. HELL NO, HEAVEN YES! While Rudy is yelling his appreciation, I meet Gustavo. Gustavo lost his son to a Fentanyl overdose and his daughter won’t let him stay at her house anymore. “It’s my own fault because of the choices I make.” We have an honest and real conversation about his family and his history of homelessness. We pray and the downtown street corner is transformed into a mini memorial service as we grieve the loss of his son. A man named Chris rolls up on his bike, bows his head, and joins in the prayer circle. Chris is intoxicated and wants me to get him a ferry ticket home. I listen to his story which seems extra convoluted and feel that he needs to figure this one out for himself. We shake hands and I tell him that I am unable to get him a ferry ticket. He smiles, knowing that I know his story has some holes in it! Ernie is getting ready for bedtime in his favorite doorway and shares about his ear injury and his belief that the political climate of the world is a sign that we are ruled by the powers and principalities. Naming greed as evil, Ernie the prophet begins to speak deep truth about the power of Jesus and his kingdom of radical forgiveness and economic justice. We meet a woman wearing no pants or underwear, lying on the sidewalk under a blanket. She takes some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and doesn’t want us to call 911. She gets agitated and throws an empty soda bottle across the street. It’s not her fault, I know that she is frustrated because we weren’t invited and have overstayed our welcome. “For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places (Ephesians 6:12 NRSV).”

Michael Cox

Every Monday, I stand in front of the church, greeting people as they make their way to the community dinner. I stand between our colorful sandwich board sign, and the steps to the fellowship hall, gently extending hospitality. I have been saying the same thing for over six years. “Were doing a free meal tonight if you’re hungry!” Being invited literally opens the door. Most of my time is spent on the sidewalk, listening to people. This week, I met a young person who has been clean from drugs for three months and was feeling “happy”. They had gone to treatment and spent time with family, healing in the power of unconditional love. As we discuss our sobriety stories, the warm presence of sacred space begins to form around us. I tell my new friend that were all created in the image of God. Their eyes fill with tears as they hug and thank me, telling me that they plan to volunteer next week.

Fighting impatient motorists and an irritated commuter bus, a man hunched over a bicycle slowly crosses the street toward me and the dinner. I meet Ralph who broke his back, forgot his cane, and can’t get off his bike. I get him two to go meals and he tells me how grateful he is that God saved his life. He was working as an arborist and fell out of a tree onto a brush pile. The doctors said that if the brush pile had not been there, he would have died. We pray for his upcoming series of surgeries and relief from chronic pain. Ralph thanks me and declares, “I praise God for breaking my fall!” The holiest moments happen on the sidewalk! “Though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong, for the Lord holds us by the hand (Psalm 37:24 NRSV).”

Michael Cox

Sharing the Christ story every week at the Community Dinner Church, continues to reveal the miraculous power of the living Word. On Tuesday’s we meet in a parking garage of an abandoned Woman’s shelter. People gather for food, community, and to hear the message. I always start the reading about ten minutes before we serve food, giving people the option to show up on time for the meal and miss the Bible story if they want. It still surprises me how many people come for the Word and are upset if they miss it. Sometimes, I share the Word multiple times in an evening for people who show up late and want to know what it was about. This week, I shared the story of Jesus being questioned about the Sabbath. Jesus and his followers have been sharing food and healing people on the holy day that they were supposed to abstain from work. The religious leaders, afraid of Jesus, and the authority God gives him, try to trap, and kill him.

“Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him.And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.”Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent.He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him (Mark 3:1-6).”

Telling people at the Dinner Church that Jesus breaks the religious law to care for people, calls it holy, and wants us to do the same is one of my greatest joy’s! As I share the story, people start to get out of their chairs and gather around me so they can hear. While the street is filled with the chaos of rush hour traffic, the garage becomes hushed with the holy silence of the Spirit. I tell a story about a friend of mine that grew up thinking that mowing the lawn on Sunday would be a violation of the Sabbath and that his family and church community would have excommunicated him if he did any yard work on the high holy day. Everyone nods their head in agreement. All my homeless friends can relate to weird, literal, fundamentalist interpretations, and applications of the Bible. It’s the water we all swim in. I close our time in prayer, thanking God for breaking the law to heal us. For doing good and loving us even when it meant his own destruction. I close the prayer as I always do. Asking God to protect everyone that is sleeping outside. That they would be safe, cared for, and comforted. When I finish, people thank me for the prayer and for the Christ story. The dinner starts with a line of smiling people that have been refreshed and reminded that they are created in the image of God. “Jesus finished by saying, “People were not made for the good of the Sabbath. The Sabbath was made for the good of the people (Mark 2:27-28 CEV).”

Michael Cox

“Thank You. No one else would stop and talk to me.” Mark had been sitting on the sidewalk next to his walker for four hours. His foot was bandaged, and he was unable to walk. He had third degree burns from trying to keep him and his wife warm with a candle. I asked if he wanted me to call 911 and he did. I called, and the operator connected me with the EMT. I explained that I worked for Operation Nightwatch, I was doing outreach, and that a gentleman that couldn’t walk asked me to call. The voice on the other end of the phone, sighed with exasperation and condescendingly asked me, “Let me ask you this outreach, is it an emergency?” I responded with a balance of measured calm and sarcasm. “Well, I am not a medical professional. That’s why I am calling you. I know that if I were unable to walk or stand, I would consider that to be an emergency.” The dispatcher then angrily asked if I was going to wait with him and I said yes. I got off the phone knowing that they were never going to come and care for a homeless man that couldn’t get to the hospital. Me and my fellow chaplain sat with Mark and prayed with him. He thanked us for calling and stopping to talk with him. He let me know in no uncertain terms that we were an answer to prayer.

As we waited for the ambulance that was never going to come, a van from the city’s human service department pulled up. I asked if they would come and take a look at Mark and his situation. They explained to Mark that he could wait for two hours for an ambulance, or they could take him to the hospital. We helped Mark up and steadied him on his walker. He gingerly hobbled to the van as we held his arms, back, and shoulders. Mark was able to crawl through the pain of his burned foot into the van on his hands and knees, finally lying on the floor. As we said our goodbye’s, Mark humbly and gently exclaimed, “God bless you, thank you for stopping to talk and listen to me.” Lord free us from indifference and apathy. Help us to be hearers and doers of your word. “You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness (James 1:19-20 NRSV).”

Michael Cox

The street ministry team at Operation Nightwatch provides deep pastoral care to over seven hundred people living in poverty every month. The need to be known and seen is met through meals, socks, conversation, and prayer. One afternoon while on outreach, a young man sitting on the sidewalk, in front of a church apologized to me. “Sorry that you have to deal with people like us.” I told him that we were all created in the image of God and encouraged him to not adopt an identity of shame and guilt. He smiled and nodded in agreement. “I always thought we were all God’s children!” The narrative that poverty is a result of moral failure has taught my friends on the street that homelessness is God’s punishment. “He doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” Street ministry challenges that narrative, communicating the God of Scripture. A God who commands love. A God who promises to not leave us homeless but to make his home with us. “Jesus answered him, “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them (John 14:23).” Help us to remember that all of us together form the Body of Christ. May we suffer and rejoice together.

Michael Cox