Sisters Closet
Sister’s Closet
This morning I arrived a bit earlier than usual at church. Today was to be a big day. It was the day of Sisters closet, one of the ways City Centre Church experiment with putting themselves out there in service of the community they believe God placed them in for a purpose. We collected unused clothes from family and friends for months. We asked people to offer their time to help us sort and organize all the clothing. Some moved heavy church pews, others sorted through bags upon bags of clothing and others assembled clothing racks until late until the church looked like a department store. An apartment store with an important difference: Everything is free and anyone is welcome to come in and take what they need. You can write a book on consumerism and how dangerous it is and what should be done about it and that book wouldn’t say half as much or speak as loudly against consumerism, greed and individualism than what happened today in our church. But I am getting ahead of myself…I need to go back at when I arrived.
A guy stops next to me in a maroon Jeep, an early 2000’s model but one in very good shape. The man himself looked very good. He is extremely attractive as a matter of fact (and I would know such things because it takes one to recognize one, right?). He asks me if this is the arranged parking for the crew. I am a bit perplexed. “Arranged parking” and “crew” isn’t terms thrown around our homeless ministries often. I gather that this man is not an over eager shopper of goodwill like the small crowd lining up in front of the church door, but an actor who is part of a “crew” that is shooting a series called “Arrows” today. I help the man to look up the address of his arranged parking which turns out to be not our church’s address. The man looks irritated and the rebel in me cannot help tell him all about our project today. He looks even more irritated and in a hurry to get going when I do tell him. But then I share the good news with him, the fact that most folks partaking in Sister’s closet today doesn’t come by car and that there is plenty of space and safety for his beautiful Jeep just outside my office. He gladly accepts and jog off to chase his dream of screen fame.
In drips and drabs people, mostly women, stream over the threshold of our little church. There are quite a big group of Syrian women in Hijabs. There are smaller groups of Africans, Indonesians and First Nation people. There are individuals of whom it is difficult to guess their ethnicity or even their age. There are couples and single people. Old people and young people. Friendly volunteers receive and help them if they are royalty shopping at Harrods. Everybody that is done shopping is invited to a cup of coffee and a muffin downstairs.
Here I chat with a guy named Terry. Terry is 6, 5 ft and wears a number 13. He has the kind of shiner one could only get in a street fight but he is alert and friendly. I chat with him. Terry tells me that the shiner is the work of a friend he graciously let stay in his apartment and that he is now out on the street again because of the fight whilst this lowlife of a friend still stays in his apartment. Terry originally comes from Winnipeg and is on disability. When I ask for what he tells me: “all kinds of things”. Depression and violent mood swings tops the list of things he rambles off. “It sounds much like bipolar, Terry!”, I say-ask. “Oh yeah, I am probably bipolar but they didn’t have that back in the sixties, yeah know”.
Terry loves fishes, like in keeping them in tanks. He tells me how he until recently had three big tanks full of fishes but lost everything because of the friend that gave him the shiner. He tells me he sleeps at SUM now and is already helping out with making dinner. He seems proud about it. Terry doesn’t look like he is addicted to something and claims that he isn’t but does smoke the occasional joint. We talk fishes and politics for a good 20 minutes. Terry is a nice guy. I see nothing but a gentle giant sitting in front of me. I do realize that I haven’t seen Terry in other times and settings but I am reminded that God did and still loves the Terry sitting in front of me. We depart friends. By that I mean he promised to accept my Facebook friend request. I hope he does. I need friends like Terry.
Suddenly the crowds of people wean down. I hand out my cards and invite a few to join us on Sunday. I share a sandwich with some of the volunteers.
I wonder how the actor’s day is going. His Jeep is still outside. Sometimes I would love to have a script and a detailed plan like he probably has. Other times it is quite a nice experience to figure out your role as you go along.
I am suddenly reminded of a verse in the Bible that stayed with me from childhood for some mysterious reason. Isaiah 60: 3:
“Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn”
I think of all the very different people that walked through our doors today. I think of the young and upcoming actor that is parked outside. That verse is true. I saw it happening today, people drawn to the generosity and love of an entity we call church, those in whom the light of Jesus’s generosity, love and acceptance shines. That light will let hope dawn in the life of refugee and actor alike. It did today.