Claiming Bread in the Freezing Rain

A torrential down-pour met the morning, as I drove to an inner-city store-front church that ministers primarily to the homeless and near-homeless. On a "good day" at my church, practicing the social gospel is a hectic art. While we have plenty of salvation gospel to spare, the material needs of countless faces are greater than what can be provided. Today, however, was not a "good day". Freezing rain would turn into hail and, by nightfall, snow. This would make everyone more desperate.

Because of an always limited supply of food and clothing, and because we want to build community, compassion for the individual need is seasoned with "tough love" rules to ensure equal access. Everyone can be incredibly selfish and, if not regulated, some homeless individuals (like all of us) will take more than what they actually need and a few will even sell or exchange those items for sex, alcohol or illegal drugs.

Satan plays all kinds of games and, on this day of freezing rain, people were particularly selfish. In distributing a limited supply of military-quality rain ponchos, some schemed to find ways of getting more. The same was true for our supply of fresh sox and underwear, as well as small candles intended to be used later that evening to keep warm. It seemed like everyone wanted more than his share, thus reducing our ability to give others what they really needed just to survive the night on a concrete "bed" underneath a city bridge.

Tough love also applies to food distribution. Donations from parked vehicles are brought in by designated volunteers. If the homeless men in front of the church were permitted to bring in supplies without supervision, little of it would make its way to our kitchen and we could not serve the needs of the entire church community.

But, again, this was not a "good day." Freezing rain meant fewer volunteers on hand, and desperate people began to "game the system". I grew annoyed by some calling me ugly names for questioning whether they had already received supplies. I grew impatient with a spirit of selfishness that clouded my aim on the social gospel.

A truck pulled up with fresh bread, and I saw several men helping themselves while just one volunteer frantically tried to get the load off the street and into our kitchen. I quickly found myself standing in the freezing rain, trying to take a loaf of bread from a homeless man. I pulled, and he yanked. I shouted "let go!" He claimed, "this is my loaf!" Others watched on.

The tug of war lasted only 10 seconds, but the damage was complete. The look on that man’s frozen face told me he had just learned something about Christian hypocrisy that would remain with him for a long time. Chilling expressions on other homeless men came from my own action, not just the weather. My God, I thought, want am I doing? Would Jesus take a loaf of bread out of the hands of a rain-soaked homeless man? Would He take it out of my own hands?

Tough love? Maybe on a good day, but not on a bad day. Not in the freezing rain when someone is seeking bread. I released my grip on that loaf and apologized. I ran into the sanctuary that offers temporary repose to homeless people sleeping in the seats and on the alter. The odor of dirty wet clothing and unclean humanity – the smell of social gospel yet to be fulfilled – was potent as I laid prostrate on that same alter and asked for God’s forgiveness for placing my own selfish emotions and man-made laws in the way of His simple rule of love and compassion. I prayed that I would never again forget the intimacy of imago Dei standing in the freezing rain claiming nothing but bread.

When it comes down to it, we all stand in that freezing rain. We grasp for bread. It might be better wages or a better job. Or, the "bread" might be better relations with family and friends. It could be better health and the promise of a future. Or, it may "simply" be real bread and the hope of having no hunger. Standing in that freezing rain, we seek compassion and mercy about our own human condition.

Other people watch our behavior, especially when we claim to be practicing Christians. There is always an audience judging our actions. But the ultimate audience is God. Our Lord hears the righteous cry out for that loaf of bread and delivers them out of that freezing rain (Psalms 34:17). He judges us for that which we do not do for the least of His flock (Matthew 25:45-46), whether that "least" is found in our workplace, within our family, or in strangers on the street.

The loaf of bread is the Body of Christ, broken for all. And the Body of Christ is you and I, bound together with cords that should not be breakable. Satan wants us to forget these two facts of faith. He wants us to believe that it is "simply" bread that can be taken away because the man in the freezing rain belongs not to "our" Body of Christ.

Satan wants us all to stand alone in that freezing rain.


After praying on the altar, I remain uncertain about when the spirit of the rule surpasses the letter of the law. Regulations are important, especially those concerned with equity and fair play. But Jesus reduced all mosaic laws to just two Commandments - love God and love the person standing in the freezing rain because he is you. Man-made rules are OK on "good days," but we must remember that bad days require the right arm of God and we must be His instrument.

The next time someone cries out, I hope to listen a bit more intimately – not just for his this-world need for "bread," but also for his eternal need for the Bread of Life. As part of the Body of Christ, I am obligated to stand with him in that freezing rain and share that Bread of Life we call Christ. The Bread of Life each one of us claims standing in the freezing rain.

James D. Slack, Ph.D.

Why Are We the Church of the Reconciler?

Church

We are first and foremost a church. We are not a hand-out organization. We share what we have because that is what Jesus taught us God wants us to do. We are poor. We depend on the generosity of our companions in God, and we share the grace we receive with those in need. We all work together—poor, homeless, middle-class, wealthy—to spread the message that God loves us and wants us to love each other.

Reconciler

We follow the teachings of Jesus as the Reconciler. We work to reconcile the community of Birmingham with those who govern it. We pray for reconciliation among the warring nations of the world. We are actively reconciling our weak, erring selves with our companions in Christ. We also practice faith that we can reconcile ourselves with God. We recognize that we all fall short of the glory of God…regularly…daily. We each need mercy and forgiveness and grace. We must forgive ourselves and we must beg God’s forgiveness.

We at the Church of the Reconciler understand that reconciliation is an active noun. Reconcilation is accomplished when we actively care for the poor, when we feed the hungry, when we provide clothing for those in need. Reconciliation is an act of faith, an act of grace, an act of mercy.

We are the Church of the Reconciler.