Whenever the Epistle of James comes up in the lectionary readings, we’re challenged once again with Christianity 101 or basic rules for being decent human beings! James insists that “faith without works” is dead, and that works are the fruit of our faith, not efforts to earn God’s love. James calls us to stand in what Parker Palmer calls the “tragic gap” – the space between what is and what should be – the place between rich and poor; the place between the privileged few and the huddled masses. In the end, all these categories will fall away, and we will come to see that we are all children of God. James calls us to take up residence in the “tragic gap” between “what is” and “what should be.” In so doing we imitate the character of God, and begin truly to live lives worthy of our calling.
Whenever I read James, I’m reminded of Sister Catherine, a Catholic nun in my hometown in the mountains of Kentucky, who lived in a shack on the riverbank among the poorest of the poor. She worked with the local Minister’s Association, planned and taught in the Community Vacation Bible School, worked at the Church Community Services Food Bank and Clothes Closet, and cooked and served meals at Christ’s Hands, the local soup kitchen. At the end of the day, she always went back home to live among the poor, to open her hands, her heart and her home to those in need. Like all Catholic sisters, Catherine had taken a vow of poverty, but I never knew another who honored that vow in such tangible ways.
Dropping by to visit Catherine, one might find her washing a baby, helping with homework, combing the tangles out of a child’s hair, putting a band aid on a skinned knee, settling arguments among the neighbor children, or encouraging a young mother to take heart as she dealt with the burdens of her day. Always, her table was set for anyone who might need to eat, and always, there was a pot or pan of something to share warming on her stove.
Sister Catherine lived with joy in that “tragic gap” between “what is” and “what should be,” and she helped us all to be more. Remembering her faithfulness challenges me to be more and to do more! As we deal with “what is,” “what should be” comes more and more into focus!
Giving thanks for faithful ones who have been a part of my journey of life and faith, and for those streams of mercy, never ceasing!
Elizabeth
I was back in the little mining camp where I lived my first ten years over Labor Day Week-end, to preach the Homecoming Service for the Mary Helen United Methodist Church. The church, the mine office and the ever-expanding mines are all that’s left of life there, once so rich and full.
“Coming home” brings a strange mix of feelings. There’s a sadness that what “used to be” is no longer, but there’s gratitude that it ever was there at all. There’s an emptiness at its loss, but a flooding with memories of all the love shared. There are thoughts of all that is gone, but precious memories that live on. That’s what “coming home” is all about.
Driving into Mary Helen this week-end, my heart sees rows of white wooden houses – First Lane, Second Lane, Third Lane and a few more, those houses filled with neighbors and friends. There are houses up “Macaroni Holler” and more up “Tipple Holler”, and the nicer “upper camp” houses across the tracks above the company store. I remember the “outhouses” – I was sure that one day I’d fall in and never be seen again!
My brother and I played every day with a family of seven children on the First Lane, and we felt like part of the family. When their Daddy would come home from the mines, we would all gather round and he would open his lunch pail and take out the raisin cake he had saved and cut it so each of us would get a bite! I enjoyed sliding down the hill on boxes broken down and dumped by the company store and reaching through a neighbor’s fence to help myself to their strawberries.
In my heart, I hear the sounds of children at play on the hillsides, in the streams, the tipple grinding away, trains coming and going and the work whistle blowing at the end of shifts in the mine. I can see my younger self skipping up the steps and around to the office where Mama and Daddy worked, to get some “scrip” to buy candy in the company store. I remember the day I learned our “Mary Helen money” didn’t work in the candy machine at the Margie Grande Theatre in Harlan- a nickel was a big loss in those days! I remember the elementary school up the hill behind the church and the little one room schoolhouse where my older brother was in First Grade. I remembered the “colored camp” down below the sawmill, and that I always wanted to play with the children who lived there. I remember having to go inside when the coal locomotive went by – the smoky cinder particles would land in my hair, and would have to be washed before Saturday night! I had to go in on nights the Union met, because “trouble” could come from those gatherings!
I remember walking the railroad tracks through the camp, sometime on the rails themselves like the bigger kids, but mostly just taking giant steps from cross-tie to cross-tie. I remember lots of penicillin and allergy shots. When the “live” polio vaccine came out, I was given my shot in front of all the children at school, because I wasn’t afraid of needles. When I was still doing well two weeks later, most of the children’s parents agreed to let them have the “live” vaccine! I remember how beautiful Mary Helen was in the fall, and how I felt the strength of the mountains around me, and a safety in their embrace.
While Thomas Wolfe says “you can’t go home again,” perhaps the deeper truth is that we never truly leave! I give thanks for this experience of “coming home,” and for those streams of mercy, never ceasing, carrying us through this life and into the life to come.
Elizabeth
In reading a recent issue of Presbyterians Today, I came across a challenging article: “Beyond a Bag of Groceries” and I share these ideas for the common good.
“The U.S. Department of Agriculture reports that 42.2 million people face hunger in the United States. Feeding America, the nation’s largest hunger-relief and food rescue organization, reports that 1 in 7 Americans are struggling with hunger, 13.1 million children live in food-insecure homes, meaning they are often forced to skip meals or eat less at meals. Their parents or guardians buy cheap, non-nutritious food, or feed their children but not themselves. 5.4 million adults over age 60 were food-insecure, about 9 percent of all seniors.”
Presbyterian churches around the country are working to creatively nourish and sustain those who struggle with food insecurity, malnourishment and poverty. Here are a few examples of the creative ways local congregations are making an impact on the hunger in their communities by going beyond traditional food pantries and community means.
The Blessing Box – At a Texas church, outdoor boxes are put up on church property with signs that read “Take What You Need” and “Bring what You Can.” The Blessing Box offers free nonperishable food items, toiletries and other essentials for those in need, and is available anytime anyone needs something. The Blessing Box is refilled several times a week, not just by members of the church, but also by those in the community.
Feeding God’s Lambs, Literally - A church in Florida feeds animals at a local farm, and in exchange, the food pantry gets fresh produce from the farm. The church’s food pantry swaps about 200-300 pounds of day-old bread for the same amount of fresh produce every week. It’s a win-win for all involved. The animals are happy to get the treat, and rather than wasting the bread, it gets used, and the food pantry gets the fresh produce to share with those in need.
Kitchen Ministry - A Washington church partnered with local food banks and schools to help feed the hungry. The church started a farmers market in cooperation with local farmers. The market runs from May through September in the church parking lot. The market sparked an interest in providing healthy food through establishing community gardens, and the church now partners with Second Harvest Food Bank, distributing food on the second Friday of every month. In addition, the church has established a kitchen ministry, offering cooking classes and a nutrition education program.
Grants from the Presbyterian Hunger Program support many of these local projects. “Relational connections, and a sense of shared commitment to meet the needs of people – there’s something very spiritual about that. It gives expression to faith in a meaningful way.”
Community Gardens, Gleaning in Fields, Blessing Boxes, Kitchen Ministries, Backpack/Hungry School Programs, Food Pantries, Week-Day Community Meals – all are ways to follow Christ’s command - ”’For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Grateful for fresh new ideas for ministry, and for those streams of mercy, never ceasing.
Elizabeth