Showing posts from June, 2014

Pentecost 1A, St. Clements', "I think I'm controlling one of the arms"

Well over a decade ago, while I was serving as the youth outreach worker for Episcopal parishes in Cleveland, I met a spunky and precocious little girl named “Erika”.  It was a Wednesday night, the night of the community hot meal offered every week to all who needed a meal.  The mix of people was usually a large number of the homeless and a few dozen neighborhood children.  The small group of volunteers would open the doors and try--in the midst of the chaos of yelling children, inebriated adults and often desperate eyes--would try to create an atmosphere of dignity for all.  Name tags were worn by all, meals were served family style and we averted our eyes whenever the plastic bags and containers came out and leftovers were covertly scooped from the table to furnish future meals.   We sought to eat with our guests whenever we were able, sought to know them, sought to keep the children still during the meal as they gobbled up whatever was placed in front of them and tried to make peo…