My first 3 Weeks in Canada...Some reflections

I am in Canada now. The House that i live in is located in the downtown East Side(DTES) of Vancouver. There are about 12 people who stay here as well. I say about because some nights people from the street sleep on the couch and at a few point there have been people who are getting ready to go into rehab programs a need a place to stay until they can get in so they are not out on the streets. Then there are the visitors who come by and there is rarely a dinner meal that has been less than 15 people around the table. The door is in constant motion and it is great...
The Image that is used to remind us how to balance our daily life is the picture of a wheel. The inside is the time for Solitude and reflection--time to rest with God and gain his strength and insight for the rest--It is the center, the hub in which all else is held together.
And then there is the spokes which are the time spent in the community and reaching out. With out a strong community the practice and use of the wheel is weak and easily broken each part needing to bear a part of the load.
The outer rim is ministry where life hits the road and gets involved with the world around. The action and getting out into the community we are surrounded by.
This is how we are encouraged to spend our days... a time with God, time with community, and time with our neighbours. I spent the first three weeks mostly exploring the streets and the new surrounding i have found myself in. I at first was amazed at how much there was around here with the outreaches and people trying to help. It seemed as if there was a different organization on every corner, then i learned that the reason why it is so thick in this part is that there is very little help elsewhere and so the DTES has become like a section quarantined for the lepers and fatally ill. People don't want to be bothered by it so they have shoved it into one area where they can ignore the problems, yet for the people here it becomes increasingly difficult to get out because they are continually rejected elsewhere. There is one thing that i have noticed while being here so far, and that is the community that is built up here on the streets. The People know they need each other to survive. This reminds me of something i had read from Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Paraphrasing the basics because i cannot find the exact quote at the moment...) when we cling to the community we will inevitably chock the life out of the very community we profess to love and need, but the community that is centered on Christ will be able to live and thrive being willing to sacrifice so that the community may live.
This is the community that is found down there, yet you don't get much better from the organizations that are trying to go about systematically giving help to those who need it, missing the relationship that is necessary to a whole restoration both body and soul.
In some of my down time i have been reading a book called "there's is The Kingdom" by Robert D. Lupton, and this story is something that i have had some good reflection on:
(This is kind of long and the last part of this post so enjoy pondering when you have time.)


"It was front-page news, the biggest happening to hit town in recent memory. Rev.Jarius, the distinguished pastor of Capernaum First Church, actually had fallen on his knees in the dust before an uneducated Galilean teacher, begging. a parent, even a dignified one, will do desperate things when his child is dying. Rev. Jarius publicly humbled himself, pleading for the life of his daughter. And the Teacher agreed to heal her. This was no small event.
The crowds surged toward the Jarius home as people pushed and shoved to get a decent spot to view this spectacle. Suddenly the Teacher halted in the middle of the road. Turning around, he asked: 'who toughed my clothes?' An absurd question when the masses are pressing in hard upon you.
But the Teacher persisted. 'Someone has touched me.' It was not the ordinary jostling of crowds. It was an intentional pull on his robe, an insistent tug. He had felt this touch a thousand times before from people who wanted something from him. Someone had grabbed his garment, intruded upon him and he felt the drain. 'Virtue has gone out of me.' He said.
(--Master i know the feeling. When i am on my way to meet an important person and a homeless person grabs my arm, insisting on talking to me right then with no concern for my time, no consideration for the harm that might be caused by delay, it drains my energy. Care and compassion leave me. Impatience and irritation rush in. I want to respond with a quick hand out or some equally demeaning put-off.)
It was a poor person of course, who emerged trembling from the crowd. A woman with an incurable bleeding sore. A social outcast, impatient, clutching. She wanted a fix, and she got it by grabbing onto Jesus. He felt the drain. The woman was cured but Jesus lost virtue--perhaps a decline of his compassion or a twinge of impatience. Whatever, it was a clear signal to him that he must stop immediately regardless of the gravity of the situation at Jarius home. Cure without personal care was not the Father's way. He must not go on.
(But master, shouldn't i honor the commitments I've made to others? I need to respect their time. If i allow the urgent intrusions of poor people to control my schedule, I'll become known as irresponsible and undependable. I must maintain my priorities. Isn't that right?)
She knelt before him, Healed but not heard. Then the teacher listened. The woman's story was one of misery, alienation, and desperation. It was a story that toughed the Teacher's heart. Too long a story for the anxious disciples. Horribly long for the Jarius family. But there was no rushing the woman. No expediting, no referring.
The Teacher listened attentively until the woman knew she was understood and cared for deeply. Only then he spoke. He affirmed the woman as a person of deep faith. He proclaimed that it was Her faith--not some magical power in his robe--that healed her. His words brought wholeness to her wounded spirit, healing far deeper than a physical cure. Then the Teacher, full of virtue, continued on to the Jarius home.
But it was too late. The worst already had happened. A runner broke through the crowd bearing the tragic news. 'The child just died.' Rev. Jarius was stunned. The disciples were outraged. The crowd began to murmur, 'if only...ifonly.'
(I understand, Master, why it is important to personally care for the needy ones. But it seems unwise to lose such an important opportunity. Maybe I've helped a homeless family find food and lodging, but I've had to cancel an appointment with a busy person whose influence could do a great deal for the poor. What if i can't reschedule the appointment? What if a greater harm has been done?
But the Teacher was calm. He wasn't affected by the outcry. Although the bleeding woman was not on his planned itinerary, he did not rationalize giving a quick cure just because his day was a busy one. He did things the Father's way. He knew that whatever coincidences now had to be orchestrated, whatever supernatural events arranged or perceptions altered, the Father would attend to these details.
'Don't lose faith,' he encouraged the grief stricken and morally outraged. 'She isn't really dead.' Some jeered. The mourners wailed. They ad seen the dead girl, and they knew that an opportunity was forever lost. But the few who believed that one can never lose by doing things the Father's way were invited into the child's bedroom for a behind the scene glimpse of an invisible reality. One of the men there learned the lesson and said it again for us in a letter: 'Make every effort to add to your faith virtue"(2Peter 1:5)