Scenes from an Urban Parish

Every morning the sexton picks up beer cans and liquor bottles from the lawn.  Sometimes there are syringes and needles, too.

Homeless people sleep in the churchyard and cemetery at night.  They figure out what time the police drive through so they can hide.

When women go up to take Communion, they take their purses with them.

The church is kept locked when not in use.

When the secretary is alone in the office, she keeps the door locked.

A parishioner is mugged.  The perpetrator is caught, spends nine months in jail, then gets probation and rehab.  Several years before, the parishioner’s teenage daughter was held up at gunpoint in the convenience store where she worked.  The robber is caught, but in spite of identification by two witnesses, is acquitted.

A teenage parishioner is set upon by three acquaintances.  He has to have his jaw wired and lives on milkshakes for weeks.

A large drug store, open twenty-four hours a day, opens.  The spot becomes a magnet for prostitutes and their customers.  The drug store changes its hours to nine to nine.

The neighbors of noisy bar, the scene of many fights, try to have the bar closed.  After a shooting, it is.   A company buys the property to use as a methadone clinic.  The neighborhood, after demonstrations and with the help of legislators, gets the court to stop the purchase.  The clinic appeals and wins.  The status is still uncertain.

The Diocese asks that before every meeting, service, or event the question “How does what we are doing impact those living in poverty?” be asked.

During an evening committee meeting, a man comes to the door.  He says he and his family have just come to the city and are homeless and asks for money to stay in a motel.  The committee members debate whether they should call the rector for money from the Discretionary Fund or chip in themselves.  In the end, they do nothing, but feel guilty.  On Sunday at Coffee Hour, another parishioner tells of being approached by someone who fits the description of the man with the same story a week before in the parking lot at the mall.

The Diocese suggests that for Lent everyone limit his or her food expenses to thirty dollars per person per week, which is the average Food Stamp allotment.  The Bishop says he is going to do it, but does not say how he is going to count the free food at meetings, receptions, etc. 

A parishioner who works in a supermarket sees Food Stamp cards being sold for cash.

I’m just saying