On this day, God smiled.

Popeye was sitting on the ground, leaned up against the Sanctuary as we pulled up to the curb in Long Beach.  Perhaps he sensed I had prepared something special for his 62^nd birthday, and in anticipation, arrived early.

The Duke of Earl jumped out of the truck and began his usual ministrations, in preparation for our friends’ arrival.  Out came the beautiful, rough-hewn cross and the tall candleholder with the purple candle atop.  I was retrieving the stereo from my car when Popeye came to get the pretty tablecloth from me—(did you think it is only women who appreciate the finer touches? Think again.)

We started our time with singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Popeye, and then I served homemade carrot cake.  We gave him a card ‘from the flock’, and I had a new Study Bible for him—it was cool.  In fact, it was the perfect way to open our discussions on the value of community. 

‘Tell me about community in your lives,’ I said, ‘and the purpose it serves.’  Several talked about Cocaine Anonymous, and AA—that there is mutual understanding, acceptance and a non-judgmental environment.  Another talked about shared community experiences in his apartment complex.  “And well . . . how about if you are homeless?”  I pressed in . . . “There are shared experiences on the street, and you see each other at the same places for meals.”  Heads nodded.

“How about in Lincoln Park?”  Ah, the infamous, crime-ridden downtown park where many make their home.  “Duke, would you comment on life in the park?”  “Uh – yeah.  For some it is all they know, and they are comfortable there, even if they are kinda’ hopeless.  .  For me, it’s different because I’m only gonna’ be there a little while.  I know what it’s like to be successful, to achieve things—a lot of those people don’t.  So it’s different for them.”

“So, is it community?  Is Lincoln Park community?  Is it healthy or good or positive?” I looked around the tables for answers.  We came to the conclusion it might be slightly better than being all alone, but not much.  After all, in order to go to sleep in a city park, it usually takes a 1/5^th of something or some kinda’ drug, which of course, are available in Lincoln Park.  Either way, it is a dead end.

I challenged them, “If it is true that many do not know how to get out of their mess, or they do not know a better way, what can we do about it?  I mean, come on, can’t we at least tell them about a God who loves them?  ‘Take them along with us to hear about that love?  I’m not saying you have to hit them over the head with a Bible, but couldn’t you tell them you know there is hope?” 

A precious newcomer and gentle woman, Margarita, quietly answered, “Yes, you can tell them your story, if you have found hope.  See, I used to be there . . . on the street, strung out, and looking for love in all the wrong places.  I got out,” and she patted her well-worn little New Testament..

And so our little Sanctuary community talked about extending hope, inviting others to hear about God’s love, and telling their stories (testimonies) to help others.  As Paul wrote, “God has given us this task of reconciling people to him.”  Why?  Because “we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, “Come back to God!” (from 2 Corinthians 5)

Then we bowed our heads, and spent time praying for Long Beach, for her hurting, addicted, and hopeless, and for each other.  Margarita asked that we pray she could better use her mouth to bless, and speak correctly, rather than utter curses or things she shouldn’t say.  Oh, Friends, that right there is evidence that authentic community is happening! A woman whose sordid past has been redeemed, now cares enough to honestly ask God to redeem her speech.  “That is a prayer God delights in answering!”

I said, and passionately prayed for her, and for the tongues of all of us.

On the eighth day, God created community.  And on this warm summer day in Southern California, God listened to his children practice acceptance of one another . . . as they talked about extending his hope to others. 

Yes, on this day, God smiled, and so did I.

Christine