The Phoenix

Last week I was finally able to share a gift card that I had received two years ago for my installation. The card was for a wonderful spa, The Phoenix, in downtown Philadelphia. When I received it I had hoped to share it with Tina, a friend of The Welcome Church who had been going through radiation and chemotherapy for the lung cancer that eventually took her life. Though Tina never did have enough strength for us to keep our spa date before she died, she would often refer to it and smile. After Tina died last year, I put away the card, not ready to go to the spa alone.

Two months ago I came across that card while sorting through some bills. I wasn't even sure it would still be honored. I mentioned it to several of the women from The Welcome Church who agreed to a spa trip together. It took awhile, but last Friday five of us gathered for our trip to The Phoenix.

We met at 18th and Walnut, outside of the Barnes and Noble jokingly referred to as "my office."
I had made appointments for three of the women and a fourth showed up unexpectedly, willing to just wait with us if necessary. Knowing the challenges these women faced in their daily struggle for survival, I was honored that these four strong and beautiful women made such an effort to meet on time at our designated spot. I also knew that I would have included anyone who showed up, even if it meant taking out another mortgage on my house. The trust that these women showed me was priceless.

Walking the few blocks over to the spa, the experience was a cross between a school outing and an adventure on unexplored territory. For me, this was especially unexplored territory since I had never been to a spa. In fact, it was hard for me to justify a thirty minute facial that would cost $75.00, even if I was using a gift card. I didn't know how the women would react if they knew the prices involved; in addition, I didn't know how our little group would be received by the workers in the spa.

On the way over one of the women asked if she could have a pedicure instead of a facial. I was hoping the spa would let us switch because the difference in price allowed for our fourth woman to have a manicure.

The woman who asked for the switch was walking with difficulty. She was wearing boots that were not necessarily the best fit. What struck me, though, was when she told me that part of the problem was that she didn't get to take off her boots. When you slept outside, your shoes or boots sometimes stayed on all night. In some places, taking off her boots might have meant that she would wake up to find them stolen. She walked gingerly, like a child playing dress-up in her mother's high heels.

The folks at The Phoenix were gracious; not only could we make the switch from one facial to a pedicure, but they were able to do the manicure, too. Two facials, a pedicure, and a manicure,and everybody was happy. While we waited for each to be done, we shared stories, played with samples of make-up, and sipped coffee and tea. Afterwards, we shared a very late lunch and more conversation and laughter.

As I headed towards the train station thoughts of the women lingered with me like a fine perfume. They were smart and resourceful and had not been born homeless. Some were dealing with serious illnesses; others with difficult family situations. At least one with an addiction. But for several hours on Friday, we were just five women, enjoying the pampering and simply being together.

I think of The Phoenix rising out of the ashes and the resilience and courage that surrounded me in these women and I am so grateful for the gift of themselves that they shared with me last Friday in the spa.

Thou Preparest A Table Before Me...

This verse from Psalm 23 kept going through my mind this past Friday as ten of us gathered to share a meal for the first meeting of "The Women of Eat, Pray, Love."

The idea for the group was born during a meal together while several women from The Welcome Church

gathered around another table--at The Olive Garden---following the movie "Eat, Pray, Love."

As most of us know, there is something so powerful about gathering around the table. Sadly, however, not everyone gets invited to the table. This is especially true for anyone experiencing homelessness.

Thanks to the generous people of Kate's Place and Project H.O.M.E., we were given a lovely space for four hours of respite to cook and share a monthly meal together.

Our first meal, prepared by R. was three courses of vegetarian Indian cuisine. Though I am not sure what the dishes were called, we were treated to a marvelous blend of rice, spinach, peppers, shallots, lentils, mango chutney, and spices whose names I can't pronounce. There was Naan, homemade apple butter, tapioca with brown sugar glaze, and rich, dark chocolate (a food group of its own!)

The table was set with various collections of tableware from my home, from Marilyn's grandmother, from Fran, Elisabeth, and a gorgeous tie-dyed piece of material lent to us by Sparkler.

Again I think of the psalm..."Thou preparest a table before me in the face of my enemies..."

As we sat together to eat, pray, and yes, loving one another, I thought about how we were gathered this night...in the face of homelessness, and uncertainty, in the face of poverty and illness, in the face of loneliness and fear...yet here we were with our cups running over.

Surely, goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives...wherever we are...dwelling in the heart of the LORD forever.

The Other Side of Logan

When I arrived early at Logan Circle last Sunday, there was a disturbing sight---two men were fighting only feet away from where we do our monthly service of Holy Communion. A young priest, standing outside of the Cathedral that was our Church on Logan neighbor, called the police. The cops came and the fight was broken up---for awhile. After the police left, the fight escalated, this time with broken branches being used as weapons. Again the police were called to the scene. Meanwhile, folks were beginning to gather for the first outdoor rehearsal of our new choir. Others, who regularly hung out or slept in the Circle were drawn to the fight and police activity like flies to honey.

In the midst of the chaos, I asked Waverly Alston, our choir director, to start the rehearsal.
Our one soprano had not arrived yet, so I covered her part. Not easy with my alto voice. As we began to sing, I moved around the Circle asking others to help me out. Soon we had several more joining us in song. I then went over to a group of onlookers to the fight and asked a simple question.

"Don't you want people to know that other things happen here besides fighting?"

Heads nodded and slowly folks moved from the fight scene to the circle of singers. Waverly had us singing and swaying in four-part harmony, "God has done marvelous things...praise the LORD!"

Our choir moved into the circle that was now our worshipping congregation. Together we sang,
young and less young, some of us in clerical collars, some in stained tee shirts, sopranos and altos, tenors and one with a rich baritone voice, we sang three songs, as we were fed by Scripture and later the Bread of Life.

Afterwards, we shared socks and stories and cookies and cold drinks. Our choir had made its debut in the park!

Later I learned that one person had given up a day's work to sing with us; another, with degenertaive joint disease had walk over a mile to be there...and several others. had given up their lunch.

I am thinking of ordering tee shirts for our Welcome Church choir, something bright and practical for our outdoor worship. One choir member, my alto sidekick, thinks we should have robes. Whatever we wear, we are truly a work in progress.

Afterwards, it wasn't the fight that people were talking about; rather, it was the joy we experienced in praising God together on a glorious Fall day in the park.

God, indeed, has done marvelous things...praise the Lord, indeed!

We Have A Choir!

"We have a choir!"

That's the cry that went up today as eight of us gathered for our first choir rehearsal in the sanctuary of Lutheran Church of the Holy Communion.

"We have a choir!"

Waverly was a little late in arriving. Not wanting to lose the group's momentum I had us line up, clap and move together. Of course, I was the only one who couldn't clap and move at the same time. Paul stepped out and taught us a spiritual, a type of call and response that had deep clapping with a slow stomp of the foot in between. The sound had the rhythm of a chain gang, a sacred sound repeated over and over as we sang the words, "A little while longer...a little while longer." Suffering and hope through the power of song.

When Waverly arrived I asked if he would teach a song that he had once taught us at St. Michael's, a round done in four part harmony with the words, "God has done Marvelous things, praise the Lord!"

Lavonne was our soprano, lovely voice on pitch, picking up her part right away.

Sydney and I were the altos. We needed, well, let's say a little help. Bill, originally, a tenor, came over to join the altos. Sydney, petite and barely coming up to my shoulder, swayed with me
as we struggled to stay on course. Bill, Italian, Catholic,and not very used to singing in church, jumped right into the part.

Our tenor was Paul-- rich, full voice singing along with Waverly, whose voice alone could fill the sanctuary.

Carl, the inspiration for our choir, and Larry were our baritones. Carl had sung professionally with a group in the 70's as had a number of folks in the Welcome Church.

In fifteen minutes we had learned our parts and began singing in harmony.

I watched as faces exuded joy and bodies moved. Our voices became big, even in this sanctaury that could hold seven hundred; and at the end of the hour we raised our arms and shouted, "We have a choir!"

The Welcome Church Singers.

We have a choir!!!

The sound of addiction, recovery, homelessness, abuse, incarceration, loneliness, struggle, and hope.

We have a choir, indeed!!!

Welcome Home Kits

A.G. is 48 years old. After living by the river bank for six years, the city took down the tarp tent he called home. He then moved his gear underneath one of the bridges where he lived the past year. Through the combined efforts of the Outreach Coordination Center and Pathways to Housing, Mr. G. now has a place of his own.

A.K., who is 46 years old, has a similar story. He has lived on or near the Parkway since 1999---not in one of the lush highrise buildings, but up against a wall where the youth study used to be.
Again, thanks to the good folks at Outreach and Pathways, Mr.K. is currently awaiting an apartment which he should have in a few weeks.

So...what can you do to help these folks as they transition into their new homes?

Welcome them with the basics as listed below...and send a note inviting them into your congregation, or at the very least, wishing them well in their new home. You know how to do this...anyone who is a friend of The Welcome Church cherishes hospitality. You might even want to send along a tin of home baked cookies as you wuold do with any new neighbor. And do feel free to contact me with questions or information about dropping off a completed kit.

What to include? Here's a basic list:
dishes (plates, bowls, mugs, glasses)
utensils
pots/pans
dish towels/cloths
bath towels/wash cloths
bed linens (full)
pillows
toiletries
shower curtain/liners
bathroom accessories
waste baskets
ice cube trays
plastic food storage containers

extras: microwave and vacuum cleaner (many of the apts folks get have wall to wall)
radio or some kind of "box" for music (Quiet is often a big adjustment)

my email: vclittle@verizon.net

thanks so much and do read the older post called "Welcome Home"
violet

But who do you say that I am?

Often we will have visitors from various schools and churches come to volunteer at The Welcome Center, the drop-in center I founded nearly four years ago at 2111 Sansom. Well-meaning visitors, wishing to record and share their visit with folks back home will ask if they can take photos. Generally we don't allow photos to be taken for a variety of reasons, all focused on the privacy of our guests. We don't ask for anyone's last name, unless they choose to share it; and many times the first name that people share is their "street," rather than their birth names.

At The Welcome Church, however, we share a symbol of our common identity as daughters and sons of God. The symbol is the cross, especially designed for Ecclesia Ministries and for all who are involved in street ministry. The cross is especially important for people living on the street because it is something to hold on to during those times of loneliness, fear, and separation from community. For most, the cross placed around their necks with words of blessing, is a direct reminder of the Word who became Flesh and lives among us. For others, this is simply a dancing figure, or a symbol of hope and joy. It has been interpreted so many different ways.

Most importantly, though, it is a symbol of out connection and care for one another, a link so strong that the only identification one person had on them upon admission to the hospital was this cross---a link that led me to them through a very astute nurse who recognized the cross as a sign of The Welcome Church.

Many housed people ask me for these crosses. They cannot be bought and are really intended for those living on the street. There is a smaller version of this cross, however, done in sterling silver. If interested, check out Ecclesia Ministries and Common Cathedral. For now, if you are walking the streets of Center City Philadelphia, look for anyone wearing this cross. If nothing else, you will seeing so many people face to face---and you will see our true identities as children of God.

A Stroll Through the Park--Part Two

So, if you didn't read the other part first, do that.

Coming from one meeting tonight and headed back to Sansom Street for another, I once again walk through the park.

"Hey, Pastor!" I hear from somewhere behind me.

Tim and Bill wave me over. I often see them this time on a Tuesday late afternoon sitting together. And usually they are discussing whatever text we used at the Tuesday Church service earlier that day. They are quite the theologians. I walk over to chat.

As it turns out, Tim and I overlapped at St. Joe's. We talk about pets, kids, and then Tim wants to know if I ever get tired of hearing so many problems. It was a heavy meeting day and I had our summer intern, Jen, covering today's service. I start to wonder if he is feeling abandoned.
I explain how I am energized by being with people and he smiles.

Tim has decided to study Latin. Earlier I told him he could use my Cassell's Latin Dictionary, if he'd like. He takes out a pen and paper and writes me a reminder note to bring in my Latin book for him on Friday. they wave to another friend coming from behind. It is Shorty, also known as Joel.

Shorty comes up to me and says, "I see you everywhere...even when you are not looking, I still see you showing up!"

"Not such a bad thing to do, " I think, "just show up."

Shorty takes a watch out from his pocket.

"Someone gave me this," he said. "It's a woman's watch and since I'm not with anyone right now, you're the only woman I know."

Shorty gives me the watch. Bill and Tim comment that he has given me some "bling."

It's getting near the time of my meeting so I move on.

A little bit farther down and almost out of the park I see Marilyn and Jeff.

Jeff, a resident Welcome Center artist , is sitting on a bench giving art lessons to Marilyn, one of our volunteers.

"Got a minute?" she asks.

I go over and she shows me her sketchbook. The work that she and Jeff are doing is lovely.

I want to join them in the play.

But I have to go to a meeting.

And I realize that what I told Tim was absolutely true...I have been energized by my friends in the park.