Reflection on what happens at our Hot Dog Ministry by John Santic
There are moments and places where the veil between heaven and earth becomes thin. These are mysterious encounters where the presence of God fills the air with transforming love. It is in these moments that one can’t help but be fully present and aware that something is happening. I like to call this “flirting with eternity”. Time slows down and joy feels constant.
One such place where the veil is thin is during the small sliver of time each Sunday when we serve hotdogs to our friends from the community. We call this the “Hotdog Ministry”. It was started by a lady named Judy who simply responded in love to an invitation from God to feed the poor. For an hour each week after our worship, a group of people, young and old, spill into the parking lot to share a meal. Slowly people show up from all directions to eat and chat with us. On the surface it is insignificant and simple, almost irrelevant; but in reality, this is holy ground where the untameable and powerful God comes out to play.
I’m discovering that we don’t just stumble into this type of encounter. It is rather a learned posture that embodies a certain perspective. The posture is one of relinquishment and need. And the perspective is recognizing the transforming power of simply being with others.
I’m learning that I am needy. Daily I rely and depend on God’s grace to sustain me because I am prone to chase idols and lose the plot. My temptation is to think that I can change the world with my knowledge about God and his plans for creation. Lately I’ve been trying to relinquish control and venture into the encounter each Sunday as the one in need of help. I am learning to see that the people I thought I was helping are actually the people that are helping me. What is more, at times I catch a glimpse of God in their eyes and hear God in their words. Suddenly my heart feels strangely warm as the veil gets a little thinner.
This is a powerful experience. A few weeks ago, during our hotdog ministry, I was sharing with a new friend Calen, my anxiety about a work trip that I felt uncertain about. He spoke a simple phrase to me. He said, “your meetings will be beneficial, regardless of the outcome.” This simple phrase made no promise of easy passage our success, but somehow my anxiety started to lift as God’s presence filled the space between us. The teardrop in his eye as he spoke his word to me amplified the holy encounter. Had I not relinquished control and the false idea that I was the benefactor here, I would have missed this moment. Instead, this encounter saved me.
Everyone has a bit of a messiah complex. This is the impression of original sin on our lives. It’s the notion that we can be like God and in his place. Often times the best-intentioned ministry is driven by such a compulsion to fix that we end up trying to do things “for” others as a primary mode, as if we are the experts or heroes and know best. Doing “for” is sometimes necessary in crisis, but it does not form the grounds of a mutual and healthy relationship.
In contrast to this is simply “being with” others. When we are “being with” others, we open ourselves to being present with no agenda and only guided by the impulse to love and take delight in one other. This “being with” helps us to see that our marginalized community of friends are not a project. Instead, they are equal partners with us in overcoming our circumstantial problems, whether homelessness, poverty, or affluence. We are partners in our mutual salvation.
God is, in a way, saving us through our neighbours. By “being with” we bond over the mutual admiration and respect we have for one another. We become friends and friends exchange gifts and share dreams. As we continue to open our lives to each other, we often receive more than we give as we move from hostility to hospitality and begin to flourish. This is transformative and reflective of what my experience has been like during our Sunday encounter.
There are potential plans for a new building on our church property. There are many ideas of what a shared space for the community could look like. There are many needs beyond a sanctuary to worship in. As this vision takes shape, I’m convinced that our friends who gather at our simple hotdog ministry may be the ones who can best help us envision a future of greater hope and justice in the middle of a community plagued with oppression and injustice. Here we need each other.
There is definitely something happening here! The stories of new friendships and blessings are beautiful and many. You are invited to come join us to experience how these shared meals become the place where heaven and earth meet. As we venture forward sensing and responding to Gods invitation, we go with a posture of relinquishment and the perspective of “being with”. In this we are making new friends and being saved. And I’ve got a feeling we are in good hands.