Stewardship Series Week 2 - October 18, 2020

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Psalm 82

When I was in seminary, I became friends with a man named Brian, who went on to be ordained. He served a couple of established churches before being appointed to a restart in downtown Asheville. Brian isn’t your typical pastor and he was not prepared to restart a typical church. He agreed to the new start but said he would do it his way, not theirs. And so he did. Brian serves at Haywood St in Asheville, which is a pretty affluent city, with lots of 5-star restaurants and places like the Biltmore. Asheville also has a pronounced homeless ministry and Brian wanted to work with those folks. It’s been 11 years and Brian’s ministry has grown immeasurably. Their motto is “Holy Chaos” and they really believe in being in ministry with people. One of their guiding principles is “relationship above all

else.” There’s a lot I could say about Haywood. It’s gritty and messy, it’s holy and awesome. And it’s been borne out of a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and patience.

In 2014, we went on a mission trip to Maryland and took the long way to get there. We flew into North Carolina and took a trip to Asheville, where we attended their Wednesday meal. Not a soup kitchen like you might expect, but one of those 5-star restaurants catering and serving the same meal they would serve to their customers that night in their restaurant. Each person who came was seated at a table and waited on. There were cloth table cloths and good dishes and silverware. Everyone was encouraged to eat until they were full. The Wednesday meal had become such a part of their community that there were multiple seatings and those who waited could get a haircut, or find some clothes in another room. In another space, there was a clinic with nurses to help those who were ailing….especially since some only got medical care when they needed to go to the ER only to recover enough to be released…back to the street. The medical clinic sought to interrupt the cycle of illness and help restore wholeness.

After the meal was an optional worship service. Some churches require you to go to worship before receiving a meal, that’s not the case at Haywood St. The congregation was invited to participate with sound makers for prayer time, regular amens, and a call and response style in the preaching.

In talking with Brian, it was clear it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. They were working with addicts and folks with severe mental illness. It wasn’t uncommon to break up a fight or be spat upon, or yelled at. And yet, there in the chaos was the holy—an encounter with the divine. Brian will talk about how a class on Howard Thurman taught him to look for Jesus not in the blonde-haired blue-eyed figure you probably can imagine even now, but in the addicts, and those tormented by voices in their heads, and the sex workers on the corner.

Brian found the embodiment of God-with-us could be in most anyone, but maybe especially in the least and the lost…those that Jesus interacted with and sought out throughout his ministry.

Every once in a while I see an article about Brian and his ministry. It’s powerful and unconventional and it often inspires and challenges me to make sure I have a clear focus in my heart and my own calling.

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been ruminating on the passage Michelle read for us today. It’s about justice. It’s about the need to feed those who are hungry and to rescue the weak and the needy. Much of it is about what we might do for God’s justice.

And then, I saw Brian in the news again, this time, he was featured in a podcast, so I listened. And it was just what I needed to hear before I shared with you today. You see, this psalm is about justice—it’s about seeking justice and fighting for justice. But before we get caught up in all the doing, before we beat ourselves up for the things we’ve failed to do, or pat ourselves on the back for the things we checked off our “being a good Christian” list….there’s something else, something different we must do first.

It hit me upside the head when Brian talked with the podcast hosts, a husband, and wife who had moved to Asheville to find the life they wanted and were the typical Asheville types who own their own home and shop at Whole Foods but struggled with what to do for the person begging on the corner. They wanted to know…what could they do. And Brian said, Well, before you to anything you should know that that’s Raven at the light by Whole Foods. Her mom came to worship one day and told us that she was a prodigy on the piano as a child. There’s something holy about her, she carries something of God with her and you find it in every interaction.

Did you hear that? Brian started not with the doing, but with the knowing…knowing Raven…her name, some of her story, some of her struggle. Raven is a person. She’s not a problem to be solved, she is a person to be loved. The answer wasn’t in socks or shoes, or granola bars…it wasn’t in fixing things. It was in seeing a person—a child of God—worthy of being known by name.

And this is true of all those we might want to help, or for whom we might seek justice. Our call, as God’s people, is first and foremost to relationship. We are to get to know people, to learn their names, to listen to their stories, to learn from them—what do they want, how do they hope it might be achieved.

It’s startlingly simple and yet challenging in its own right. It’s easier, after all, to buy some granola bars to pass out at the freeway on-ramp, or to take some socks or a jar of peanut butter to the shelter, to throw some money at an issue. But to stop and get to know someone…that takes time, and energy and a true investment of ourselves.

And yet, that’s what makes it work…in the long run. The thing that makes a life-changing difference in relationships. Food in our bellies helps, clean water helps, a roof over our heads helps….I’m not saying they don’t matter, but I am saying that what matters most is being seen and known and heard. And then when we know their names, when that woman by whole foods asks for money, we know it’s Raven and it’s harder to simply look away, which ultimately, likely does lead us to a course of action that might make an even bigger difference.

Let us pray.