francis.house.fridays.

the time has come to tell about a typical day at Francis House. although there are really no 'typical' days. i go on Tuesdays, too, and they're also open on Thursdays, but Friday is generally more of a full house, always bringing an unpredictable mix of people and predicaments, but often becoming the highlight of my week.

so here's what happens - or shall we say, here's what could potentially happen if you, my friend, happened to come by this little corner of Camden on one of these days:

10 or 11 am - so you show up at the front gate and spend a few minutes admiring the colorful, meaningful tile mosaics that adorn the front face of the otherwise-plain brick building. So this is Francis House. you go inside, and find a few people sitting in the dining room reading the paper and chatting, some in the living room listening to the parakeets chatter, some hanging around the kitchen checking on the hot lunch cooking, some sitting outside on a picnic bench smoking their cigarettes and chatting – and everyone wants to greet you, say hi, hug you, say “God bless you! How’ve you been? Where you from? Welcome to Francis House!” so, you go back in to the dining room and pour yourself a cup of coffee or grab a can of soda that’s sitting on one of the long tables, and take your pick of the spots and crowds to join in the conversation. and you hear talk about life and weekend plans and weather and public transportation and the Phillies going to the World Series and friends or family who are sick or caught in the drug scene, and about their own stories, the good and the bad, the mistakes and rejections and temptations and the victories and blessings too. you listen, you learn, you are reminded that life is a gift and nothing is more important at this moment than simply being. here. wholly.

12 noon – you hear a bell ringing and a general rumble of people making their way into the dining room, so you join the flow and let your hands be clasped by a new friend on one side and a complete stranger on the other. It’s circle time, goes the group consensus, whispered and shouted and evident in every expectant eye. once everybody is holding hands, you focus in on a solid, fiery-headed woman with her arm in a sling, standing in the middle of the circle, inviting you all to take “deep cleansing breaths”, then introducing all the visitors, volunteers, and people who’ve been away for a while. you hear some calling her “mama”, some “ma’am”, and some “Sue”. So here’s the one who birthed this place and keeps it going and growing under her wings. each introduction is celebrated with handclaps and shout-outs, making sure you feel the love, and you surely do. now it’s time for the real business of circle time: what/who do we need to pray for today? names and news-flashes of concern and thanksgiving burst forth from people’s lips like kernels in a popcorn popper… and when the pace dies down, maybe somebody volunteers to pray spontaneously, or maybe Sue leads out with "Who woke us up this morning?" and everyone joins in praying "God, give us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God's will, not ours, be done. Amen Amen!" and the hands on either side of you drop their grip to clap their affirmation. and so do you. thus, the circle breaks off and snakes into the kitchen to line up for the food. only, you realize, you’ve already been fed, somewhere inside where food can’t begin to satisfy.

Once-in-a-lifetime - if you had come last Friday to circle time, you would have witnessed an incredible moment. we were privileged enough to listen to a poem written and read by a lady who has only been coming to Francis House for three weeks, only on Fridays, and yet as she read her poem, i was brought to tears and spirit-shivers by the way she expressed the heart of the mission of Francis House and all we hope for it to be for the people who come here. i looked at Sue in the middle of the circle and saw her eyes welling up, and she saw that i was about to let it leak too, and later as she was hugging me goodbye for the day, she said, "so, you're a wimp, too!" but truly, it was incredible to hear what the Spirit of Love has done in one much-abused, usually-quiet-and-reserved woman as a result of spending just a few hours in this place i am privileged to be a part of. she was showered with a massive outpouring of applause and amen's from the whole circle group, too; everyone knew that she had seen clearly and struck the core of our common experience with her words and her attitude of gratitude for God guiding her to this place. you would have loved it. and maybe you would have given her a hug and thanked her for her poem, and she would have said, “I love you, baby”, and you would have trembled with amazement that you even get to cross paths with such a lady, let alone receive her appreciation or affection. you might be at a loss for words. But that would be okay.

12-something - you finally find yourself at the front of the line, and you help yourself to some hot pasta and sauce or chicken and potatoes or sausage and sauerkraut or some kind of soup and vegetables or whatever they’ve got going on there, and some salad and maybe a breadstick or two. as you head back into the dining room to sit down and share in the meal, you notice that there’s a few who can't get food for themselves, so their plates are being served up and brought to them by another member of the…family, yes, that’s what it feels like…

Around 1 pm – once lunch is over, you may be in for a treat, and i don’t mean the sugar-sweet kind for your tastebuds…i’m talking about some serious ear candy and real endorphin-boosting events here. you, my friend, have been invited to a 'concert' by the original/founding Francis House attendee. as you follow him down the hall to the Francis House chapel, one of us FVMs fills you in on a little background info: he's been living with HIV for 30 years now, since he was 21; he grew up in Camden and Philly, went too far with drugs, went into a coma for 3 months, Sue took care of him, got him back on his feet; now he's living in his own apartment, still needs a lot of help, needs a cane or walker to walk safely, repeats himself a lot and slurs his speech so you gotta listen hard; but his gift, what he loves to do to welcome newcomers to Francis House, is to take them into the chapel, plug in his little boombox he carries everywhere, pop in a disc of Marvin Gaye or Barry White or Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson, and sing along with all his soul. and this is what graces your senses for the next half hour or so as you sit in the first pew row facing this marvel of a man who is currently sprawled on the green felt carpet on the front step of the chapel. some of the tracks skip and scratch, and some he fast-forwards past to get to his favorites, but each one truly is a gift from his heart to yours. and you’ll know when he’s wrapping up because he’ll put on an instrumental track and talk to his little audience, asking you how you liked 'the show', telling you straight out that it was 'awesome' and that he's 'the best! I’m the best! I’m the best!’ and you lean forward and listen closely when he starts telling some cautionary stories from his turbulent life, some crazy true shit [sprinkled liberally with many such descriptions because they’re really the only ones that fit], and you’re like, This guy did WHAT!?! WHAT THE?!? but you hear him, too, saying how blessed he is, and how he’s done with all that, and you might even hear him give a shout-out to how much he loves us FVMs, how we're his 'crew', how God is good to him and gave him this calling to be a blessing to Francis House. and at some point Sue or somebody pokes their head in to say that his ride is there to pick him up, or maybe just to say “enough’s enough! Get back in here with everybody else!” and so you watch as the boombox and CDs get shoved back in his bag, as he juggles his long legs back up to standing position, and as he shuffles along out of there, leaning heavily on his walking-aid device of choice. you wonder, How does it feel? What does he need? What does anybody need? but all you know is you needed that. and you will never listen to those songs the same way again. and again, you’ve been nourished somewhere you didn’t even know you needed to be.

2 pm or so – it’s closing-up time for Francis House, and you see people making the rounds for hugs, zipping up their jackets and gathering up their bags of leftovers or personal care items or whatever they needed to take home. you wave them off with a sigh that could mean anything in the world. on your way out, Sue wraps you in a hug that’s like – oh. that’s what it feels like to be hugged by God in Momma form. and you know you’re not the first to think that. and you want to learn how to love like that. and you will. because God. loves. you.

Amen.

waterfalls.and.falling.leaves.

Ricketts Glen State Park:

- site of our community fun outing yesterday

- about a 3-hour drive each way, which i drove, marveling at Pennsylvania's epic rolling landscape and luscious autumn colors

- home of 22 waterfalls along a 7-mile hiking trail, which we hiked at our own unique pace in the midst of many other individuals making their way through the rain-showery day

- a much-needed immersion in the glorious spirit-nourishing wilderness: the eye-dazzling sculpture of rocks and boulders; the rich red-orange-yellow-brown brushstrokes of the leaves on trees, on the ground, and swirling in the air; and the surround-sound joy-bursting music of water, wind, and birds!

- i miss it already :)

feasting.for.peace.

so, this past weekend i experienced a major milestone in the Franciscan calendar and in the life of the parish of St. Anthony of Padua here in Camden: the Transitus and the Feast Day of St. Francis.

the Feast day was on Sunday, Oct. 4, so all three morning masses were dedicated to celebrating Francis' life and example to us as a lover of Christ, people, and all living things. afterwards, many people brought their pets to the front steps of the church to receive a prayer of blessing from the priests - what a lively riot of cats, birds, hamsters, and dogs of all shapes and sizes! and what an act of mindfulness and gratefulness to God - this decision to intentionally, publicly dedicate even the animals in the household to the purposes of God, to acknowledge how all living things can point to the beauty and creativity and love of God. even the Francis House birds, which sometimes stink and squawk our ears off... they got blessed that day, and they can be a blessing, too! and maybe by their very helplessness, their constant demand for attention and care and cleanup, they may help us to practice love and cultivate humility...let's hope so!

the Transitus was Oct. 3, this past Saturday. the occasion, commemorating the date of St. Francis' death, was marked by an evening liturgical service. the Bible study group that i have been attending with my fellow FVMs and several families from the church, called Quest, was asked to prepare and lead the service, so i was privileged to participate in:

- welcoming people at the door

- handing out programs and candles to each one

- walking silently and joyfully in the opening candlelight procession into the church

- watching a slideshow/video of the story and sayings of St. Francis as he faced and welcomed his death by inviting his fellow religious brothers to his bedside and encouraging them to love God and be faithful to the Gospel

- listening to the same passage from the Gospel of John 13:1-17, which Francis asked his friends to read to him right before he died

- listening to Deacon Fadi, a Franciscan friar from Jordan, share a reflection about St. Francis' life of peacemaking, particularly his efforts to care for creation and to befriend the Sultan of Egypt in the middle of the Crusades

- eating the fresh, soft roll of bread that was handed to me and to each one there, so we could communally remember and experience the way St. Francis wanted to share abundantly with everyone in need

- introducing the intercessory prayer along with my roommate, Norma, who said: "In the spirit of St. Francis, we pray for peace in the world, in our city, in our church, and in our spirits, by lighting these candles and speaking these words that mean 'peace' in 14 different languages." and then i said: "esta noche, oramos por la paz en el mundo, por la paz en nuestra ciudad, en nuestra iglesia, y en nuestros espiritus, mientras que iluminamos estas velas y decimos estas palabras que significan 'paz' en catorce lenguas diferentes. entonces, en el espiritu de San Francisco y en el nombre de Jesucristo, oramos: paz y bien (spanish), salaam (arabic), shalom (hebrew), amaithi (tamil), shanti (hindi), amani (swahili), mir (russian), hoa binh (vietnamese), he ping (chinese), paix (french), frieden (german), pace (italian), irini (greek), peace." as i said each word, one of the Quest group members placed these prayers for peace in front of a candle and lit it, and when all were said and lit, everyone said together, "Gracious Lord, hear our prayer"

- witnessing the blessing of a relic of St. Francis, which was a small scrap of cloth set in a metal medallion with a clear glass front, which was further set in the center of a gold cross, similar to these pictures:

- holding hands with everyone in the congregation to pray the Lord's Prayer

- shaking hands, hugging, or cheek-kissing everyone who recognizes us FVMs on our way downstairs for the refreshments after the end of the service

- sampling various treats including a home-brewed hot chocolate with cinnamon, cubes of 'pasta de guayaba' (guava jelly/paste) with cheese, pumpkin spice mini-muffins from a local bakery, and a peach jello-cake with cool whip and fresh blueberries on top (made specially by one of my fellow FVMs, with my help frosting and designing the blueberry placement pattern :)

- going home inspired to read more about the life of St. Francis

also on Sunday, i was able to visit the First Baptist Church of Moorestown, a wonderfully welcoming little community, which was celebrating World Communion Sunday. so, the children's sermon featured several baskets of traditional breads from various countries and cultures of the world, and the grown-ups' sermon emphasized the message that even though there are so many different traditions of how to share in the Lord's Supper/Communion/Eucharist/etc, and so many different explanations or doctrines about what actually occurs in that mystery of broken bread and poured drink and human bodies-minds-hearts and God's presence all meeting together somehow...even though all these divisions seem to exist and complicate our existence, still we can meet together, we can share the experience, we can be shaped more and more into the fullness of who God means us to be, to be like Christ, to affirm with our whole beings that there are many kinds of feasting, but "there is one body and one Spirit - just as [we] were called to one hope when [we] were called - one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." (Ephesians 4:4-6)

what a vision of unity; wholeness; peace. i'll feast to that.

eyes.of.a.child.

the other day i was playing frisbee with my housemates in the park a few blocks down from our house, and once after i passed it i looked over my shoulder, and there was a little boy about three feet high, looking wide-eyed at me with a futbol at his feet. he stared at me for a few seconds, then very calmly yet expectantly kicked the ball to me, so i took a time-out from frisbee to pass the soccer ball back and forth a few times with this audacious chiquito, little boy, before he wandered back to his friends and big brother, and i joined back into the frisbee circle. a few minutes later i glance behind me again and this kid is looking up at me and as soon as i meet his eyes he kicks the ball to me again, and we go through the same little game a few times, on and off again, until it's time for me to go back home. and the whole time i'm thinking, wow, in a neighborhood like this, how is this child still so trusting that he'll spontaneously share his soccer ball with a complete stranger, a grown-up(ish) white lady he's never seen before? how long will it be before that trust fades, gets disillusioned or violated? i mean, in that moment i was blessed somehow with the ability to mostly just savor the joy-drops of that innocent exchange, but now i can't help but wonder - how long before he notices the shattered glass on the sidewalks and the gunshots at night, before he gets offered weed or speed or worse? will his family be able to send him to a good school? will he stick it out and graduate, or will he drop out like 30% of students in Camden have done in recent years? will he find strong friendships among his peers, or will he search for his sense of belonging in a gang? will he gain a sense of accomplishment and adventure from his schoolwork and sports and other creative, constructive activities, or will he seek the darker thrills of getting drunk or high, of defacing neighborhood edifices, setting fire to abandoned buildings, or other destructive paths? how much choice will he feel like he has in the matter? will he be able to find a job? will he go to college? there's certainly hope for him, but also plenty of reasons for hopelessness, i'm learning.

my eyes have been opened to many reasons for these issues by participating in community actions and discussions with a local group called CCOP (Camden Churches Organized for People). i'm going tomorrrow to a church across town to join a troupe of my fellow Camden residents, pastors, priests, Franciscan friars, non-profit workers and volunteers, and children, to meet and dialogue with NJ governor Jon Corzine. here's my very brief, very broad-brushed synopsis of why:

seven years ago, Camden was deemed to be in a state of emergency, and control of the city was taken into state government hands. three years later (four years ago), leadership changed, promises were made, resources were found, and the people thought there might be reason to hope for better things for Camden. but here we are, coming up to another election season, and the leadership has not been accountable, promises have not been kept, resources have not reached the needs, and the people would like to remain hopeful, but the reasons seem few and dim except for our ultimate hope and faith in God's love in the midst of suffering. so, some faith-full citizens are determined to let their voices be heard, to speak up for those in Camden who live in fear and hurt and lack of opportunities. here's the media advisory about it; stay tuned for more about the 'why' and 'what' after it happens.

in the meantime, we pray, pray, pray...and turn our eyes upon Jesus who sees the child inside and the path ahead of all of us...

camden.gets.funky.

last night, for our 'community fun night', we headed over to the Camden waterfront area, which has been developed in recent years with an Aquarium and a Children's Garden and a boardwalk along the Delaware River. browsing for local events online, we stumbled onto this and decided to check it out.

Courier Post online photo

delighted to find free parking just across the street from what promised to be a fantastic free concert, we weren't too fazed by the numerous smashed beer bottles and cases strewn about the lot; we encounter these every day just walking the four blocks between our house and the church. so we made our way down to the crowd at the foot of the Wiggins Park stage, set with a perfect view of the Philadelphia nighttime skyline (pictured above during daylight and below at night). and were pleasantly surprised by the high-energy, wholesome blend of soul/funk/rock/gospel music streaming live from the speakers and infusing the audience with some in-your-face hope-in-spite-of-everything, with the audacity to dance their hearts out or the freedom to lay out on the grass and let the soundwaves wash over them. thanks to the Robert Randolph Family Band, the "most-often-stuck-in-my-head" award these days goes a little like this... "you're a shining star, no matter who you are, shining bright to see what you could truly be..."

just across the water, at the Penn's Landing riverfront area of Philadelphia, free festivals like this are common all summer long. in fact, probably a good portion of the people milling around last night came over via the Ben Franklin Bridge to enjoy one more end-of-summer bash, with a little change of scenery. but in Camden, it is a significant and triumphant step to put on such an event and hope, por favor, that it will happen again next year. and it doesn't solve any of the massive headaches Camden faces, doesn't exactly alleviate poverty or improve education or reduce violence or any of those urgently necessary things, but i do think the presence of events like this is important sometimes. to create space and an environment where people can celebrate the good and the possibilities in life together, or at least escape from some of its stresses and pressures. to rain down a little joy-burst on the dust and busyness of our lives. to remind us of the starlight within...

spanish.crashcourse.coming.up.

so, the sweetest thing happened to me last night right before ESL class - this tiny, well-wrinkled yet wiry Mexican lady comes into the church basement where we have the classes, and we think she's there to register for english class, right? no. she points straight at me, so i come over to her and she wraps me in a giant hug (although she only comes up to my armpits, well maybe shoulders, almost, she fits under my chin for sure), calling me "mi hijita, mi hijita", and when she finds out my name is Anna she says "ahhhhhhh! anita, anita!!!", and says (in spanish) she wants me to teach her to read and write in Spanish, and will i tutor her twice a week for two hours? well, i looked at my schedule and i really only had one afternoon a week where i could do that, so i offered that, and she was overjoyed but kept teasing me to make it two days a week, but finally we agreed to start with one day a week, and... i'll see her on monday! to teach her spanish literacy and grammar! craaaaazinessssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and she wrapped me in several more hugs and chattered away to one of the other ESL teachers who speaks Spanish, before she left, trailing a bubble-bath of smiles. she had just disappeared out the door when i realized i didn't even know her name!!! luckily she was still on the stairs, so i caught her and got her phone number and found out her name, etc.

so here's what i know: i will be spending two hours a week with an absolute BUNDLE OF JOY. i am... inexplicably excited about this. who knew i would be doing this?? who knows if i even have the ability to??!!! but somehow, i feel more confident about this small assignment that i am certainly NOT qualified for (only remotely, at best), than i feel about the three main ministries i've chosen that i actually have some college education in. go figure. pray for me!

new.home.base.

here's what's been blowing my mind a little each day since august 15:

i live in Camden, New Jersey. this is a home of mine now. this is where i will sleep, eat, sing, dance, garden, teach, learn, cook, clean, speak, listen, walk, run, read the newspaper, surf the internet, drive a minivan, smile, cry, swing in the park, buy groceries, take out the trash, pray, and breathe for the next eleven months.

Camden is one of the poorest cities in the United States - for the past several years it has consistently ranked in the top 3 for crime and poverty. there are over 4000 abandoned properties scattered throughout the neighborhoods, where drugs are bought and sold like hot cakes. i live in Cramer Hill, which is in north Camden, probably one of the nicest sections, with an active community development corporation (the CHCDC) that has helped to create much safe and affordable housing, and yet just two blocks down the street from me is a row of three houses that have been sitting abandoned for about 20 years, during which multiple fires have burned out their insides, and if you just push on one of the sideboards with your pinky finger it flaps back and forth - this thing is ready to fall anytime. it's been labeled an 'imminent hazard' by the city since fall 2008, which means that it should have been demolished, at the absolute latest under LAW, by about 10 months ago. and yet it still stands. 'still stands tall', according to the Courier Post today which carried the story of the local churches' action to try to get the city to take care of this dirty business. i was there.

;-) i carried a banner and a cardboard bulldozer. you can read the story and look at pics here.

i have three housemates - one girl and two guys - who are working with the same program, Franciscan Volunteer Ministries. we like to drink tea and laugh together. i'm excited to get to know them more.

there's so much more i could say about my past 13 days of living here, and about what my day-to-day activities for this year may look like (my schedule is still kind of in process of being developed), but i mostly want to say that everyone i've met here has been wonderfully kind and welcoming. a neighbor down the street told us how he makes sure everybody puts their trash out so that it's easier for the trash man to pick it up. a lady from our church gave us an overflowing basketful of peppers and tomatoes and eggplants and canteloupe from her garden. a man at the HIV/AIDS hangout center gave us a heart-felt concert of Michael Jackson karaoke. the maintenance man at a recently-shut-down Catholic school across town lent us his truck and his own sweat and effort to help move all the textbooks, gym equipment, computers, and other useful materials to the school here, which hasn't had enough money to buy new things for years. so he helped us move it all, and then he gave us several bags of mocha cappuccino mix from the coffee company he works for. the lady who runs the HIV/AIDS ministry just brought pasta, rolls, and salad over for us for dinner, since we were working on that school job all day. our supervisor, Father John, canceled one of our meetings one day and just took us to a nature preserve on the banks of the Delaware river and we walked the trails and shore for a while.

i think it's gonna be a good journey.