The following was adapted from a sermon by Rev. Bruce Ray, Pastor of Kimball Avenue Church, Chicago.

These days, you don’t have to look far to find tents. Tent cities have popped up across the country—the homes of the displaced and the homeless. I pass an encampment beneath the expressway overpass three blocks from my home almost every day. Dozens of men and women have constructed tents from blankets and tarps to keep out the cold and wind of Chicago winters. No one should have to live in makeshift tents under the constant roar of traffic. These people need the privacy, security and protection that only a permanent house can provide. While some of us may exchange our house for a tent temporarily and enjoy “roughing it” on occasion, in the end we long for the “comforts of home.” These men and women deserve nothing less.

Recently, I ran across a Biblical story found in 2 Samuel 7:1-7 that ends with a surprise. David, King of Israel, had settled down in his cedar (ie: luxurious) palace in Jerusalem. He brought in a trusted advisor, Nathan, and revealed that he was bothered that God was still living in a tent and proposed building God a house. Ever since the days of wilderness wandering, God had “lived” in a tent (also known as the Tabernacle). Even after the people settled down in the Promised Land, God remained in the tent. Initially, Nathan encouraged David to proceed with his building campaign, but during the night (here’s the surprise ending) God revealed that God didn’t want to settle down in a house. God preferred living in a tent.

So why would God choose a tent when God could have a house? I believe God is reminding us that God cannot be domesticated, contained, or “placed.” A movable tent is a theological statement about how God ‘lives and moves’ among us. And (another surprise!) when God dwells among us (remember John 1:14), God encamps among those who have been shoved to the curb. God dwells with the “dis-placed” and the oppressed and the afflicted. In the Gospel accounts, God regularly locates far from the seats of power and wealth (Jerusalem and the temple elite) in order to live with and empower the poor and the outcasts—those abused by those at the center. God occupies at the margins.

When I pass the tents of those who are displaced, I am reminded that God has chosen to dwell among them. And I believe it is where God’s people are to pitch their own tents. We are to be on the move with God, occupying the places where there is pain and suffering—where there is injustice and oppression. It is among these tents that we will meet God face to face. It is among these tents that we will hear God’s voice, reminding us to seek the justice that leads to peaceful habitations. It is among these tents that we will learn to seek the “kingdom of heaven” where everyone is welcomed and everyone’s place is restored.

The refugee crisis in the Middle East has focused primarily on Syria and the waves of refugees washing ashore on the Mediterranean beaches of Greece and Italy.  However, there is an equally disturbing crisis in Iraq, where thousands of Sunni Muslims have fled their homes as ISIS and Iraqi forces fight for control of strategic cities.  Most do not have the resources to escape Iraq, and the result is that they are refugees in their own country.

A recent Newsweek article highlighted their plight and focused on over 4000 families that have taken refuge at a dilapidated resort along the beach of Lake Habbaniya where they have no electricity, running water or sanitation.  Because Iraq is controlled by Shiite Muslims, they have little trust in the Iraqi government to protect them.  And ISIS has often been the cause of destruction and death in Sunni communities. They are literally between a rock and a hard place.

Read the poem “HOME” by Warsan Shire to get a sense of the desperate conditions and the frightful experience of refugees around the world.

The full Newsweek article can be found HERE.

HOME by Warsan Shire

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark.

you only run for the border
when you see the whole city
running as well.

your neighbours running faster
than you, the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind
the old tin factory is
holding a gun bigger than his body,
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one would leave home unless home
chased you, fire under feet,
hot blood in your belly.

it’s not something you ever thought about
doing, and so when you did –
you carried the anthem under your breath,
waiting until the airport toilet
to tear up the passport and swallow,
each mouthful of paper making it clear that
you would not be going back.

you have to understand,
no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land.

who would choose to spend days
and nights in the stomach of a truck
unless the miles travelled
meant something more than journey.

no one would choose to crawl under fences,
be beaten until your shadow leaves you,
raped, then drowned, forced to the bottom of
the boat because you are darker, be sold,
starved, shot at the border like a sick animal,
be pitied, lose your name, lose your family,
make a refugee camp a home for a year or two or ten,
stripped and searched, find prison everywhere
and if you survive and you are greeted on the other side
with go home blacks, refugees
dirty immigrants, asylum seekers
sucking our country dry of milk,
dark, with their hands out
smell strange, savage –
look what they’ve done to their own countries,
what will they do to ours?

the dirty looks in the street
softer than a limb torn off,
the indignity of everyday life
more tender than fourteen men who
look like your father, between
your legs, insults easier to swallow
than rubble, than your child’s body
in pieces – for now, forget about pride
your survival is more important.

I want to go home, but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home tells you to
leave what you could not behind,
even if it was human.

no one leaves home until home
is a damp voice in your ear saying
leave, run now, i don’t know what
i’ve become.

Questions for Reflection

1. What were some of your feelings as you read this poem?
2. Did the poem change your attitudes about refugees and immigrants? How?

– Poem Submitted by Rev. Paula Cripps-Vallejo, Pastor of Humboldt Park United Methodist Church, Chicago

It’s been a bad year for people in Illinois–especially those who are most vulnerable.  Without a budget, the social safety net has been torn to shreds.  Lutheran Social Services eliminated 30 programs and laid off workers.  Catholic Charities is considering lay-offs and program cuts as well.  MAP (Monetary Assistance Program) grants for low-income college students have been suspended.  Chicago State University may not survive the semester.  And if  you are homeless and you thought things couldn’t get worse… think again.

The $310 million the State of Illinois set aside in a special fund to provide housing for homeless youth, fund supportive housing, and provide rental assistance for low-income families will not be disbursed unless the legislature passes a special bill–and that is questionable. The funds are sitting there, ready to be used.  But the funds may end up being “swept” into the general fund to help fill the budget deficit.  The Biblical phrase that comes to mind is, “Woe!  Woe to you, Springfield!”  OK, so it doesn’t say, “Springfield”, but it could.

Read more about the budget impasse and the impact on homeless individuals and families HERE.

GENESIS 18:1-15; HEBREWS 13:2

What acts of hospitality does Abraham show to the three travelers? Showing hospitality to strangers was very important in that culture. And the writer of Hebrews encourages believers to follow Abraham’s example.

Questions for Reflection:

1. Why do you think we’ve lost the value of “hospitality” in our culture?
2. How might you recover the principle of “entertaining angels”?

There is no devotional for Sunday, February 28, 2016

ROMANS 12:9-13

We often think of “hospitality” as a spiritual gift—some have it, others do not. And we often think of it as a “feminine” gift. Yet, this passage commands all believers to practice hospitality. According to Christine Pohl, the Biblical understanding of “hospitality” has nothing to do with creating a welcoming and cozy environment for our families and friends. In the early church, the Spirit’s gift of hospitality was understood to be the provision of secure shelter for the poor wanderer. (Making Room by Christine Pohl, 1999).

Questions for Reflection:

1. Why do you think Christians have shifted their understanding and practice of “hospitality?”
2. How can you challenge a “gendered” understanding of hospitality?
3. If Ms. Pohl is right, what might hospitality look like for your faith community?

First, the Chicago Housing Authority was chastised for sitting on Housing Choice Vouchers (aka Section 8).  Then, under pressure, the CHA activated their waiting list and released thousands of vouchers–giving recipients 90 days to find an apartment.  That sounds easy, but given Chicago’s tight rental market and history of housing discrimination, 90 days isn’t always enough.  Just ask Kiya Powell and Sandra Edwards.  Because they missed the 90-day window and were denied an extension by CHA, they lost their vouchers.

Read the full story HERE.  And if you want to see what people think about Housing Choice Vouchers, read the comments.  How do you respond to Powell’s predicament?

ACTS 2:42-47

One of the immediate impacts of the presence of the Spirit in the early church was a distribution of resources so everyone’s needs were met. The new believers also saw their homes as a place for blessing other with food and fellowship.

Questions for Reflection:

1. How does this passage compare with your experience of the Spirit’s presence in your faith community?
2. Why do you think it is so difficult for many people to open their homes to others?
3. How could you use your food and/or your dining room to make sure others are fed physically and socially?

ISAIAH 32:14-18

When the Spirit is present on the earth, there is justice and fullness and abundance. The result of justice is safety, rest and stable habitation. People facing housing instability or homelessness experience physical sickness, mental illness, stress, domestic violence and shorter life expectancy.   They are not experiencing peace, security or undisturbed rest—the very environment God promises.

Questions for Reflection

1. “The persistent condition of homelessness and housing instability in our city indicates that the Spirit is not present.” Would you agree with that statement? Why or why not?
2. Is there anything you and your faith community could do to increase the Spirit’s presence? If so, what?

ISAIAH 58:9-12

God promises blessing for those who “do away with the yoke of oppression” and who “spend themselves” on behalf of those who are vulnerable. And because of their work to create safe and stable communities, they will gain a reputation for “repairing broken walls” and “restoring streets with dwellings.”

Questions for Reflection:

1. How have you personally been involved in creating safe and stable communities for those who are vulnerable?
2. Does your faith community have a reputation around advocacy for housing?
3. If so, what are you known for? If not, what could you do to get a reputation?