Sermon: Opening the Door

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Opening the Door

By Karen Olson

June 22, 2008

[ Audio (mp3, 7.1Mb) ]

Our guest preacher on June 22 was Karen Olson, a local Summit NJ resident who founded the Interfaith Hospitality Network in 1986. The organization helps mobilize religious congregations of all faiths and existing community resources to provide safe shelter, meals, and comprehensive support services for homeless families. The program began in Summit, NJ, and Christ Church was the first congregation to host homeless guests. Now called Family Promise, the program has grown to encompass more that 5,000 congregations and 120,000 volunteers in 38 states plus the District of Columbia and has helped over 230,000 families. Visit the website [ www.familypromise.org ] for more information. In 1992 Karen was awarded one of 21 National Points of Light awards.

od morning. It's great to be back in Christ Church.

Christ Church has always been very much a home to me, and it's a pleasure to be here this morning to celebrate almost 22 years of your ministry of hospitality. The program began here, as Chuck said, in October of 1986, and you were the very first host congregation. From that experience, although you may not know it, you paved the way for more than 5,000 congregations across the country to become involved in the National Interfaith Hospitality Network.

Not only was Christ Church the first host congregation, but you were instrumental in the organizing effort, and I'd like to share that with you today. Much of the organizing began right in Guild Hall at Christ Church, which used to be right off the kitchen (before the renovation), and representatives from various congregations met there. Many members of your congregation were vital in organizing this ministry and it meant a lot to me personally. Do you know why? Because I don't stand before you today like I did then… at that time having had no experience in community organizing and non-profits. In fact I wasn't even a member of a congregation. I was a marketer for Warner Lambert. I knew about moving product off the shelf – like Listermint mouthwash, EPT, and Lubriderm Lotion.

But my work with Warner Lambert took me into NYC frequently, and if you think back about 20 years ago, it was hard to walk a city block without seeing somebody who was homeless. So on impulse I opened that door Chuck just referred to, and there was someone there and her name was Millie, and I gave her a sandwich. And then there was another, and there were more sandwiches, and my children got involved, and people from this community. But then I looked closer in NJ and thought “There can't be homeless people in NJ. I don't see them in Summit, I don't see them in Union County.” But what I didn't know was that for every one person I saw like Millie, there were another 20 people that I didn't see, and I didn't see homeless families, accounting for up to 40% of those where were homeless.

I wanted to do something to help.

And so I turned to the religious community and helped plan a conference. And to my surprise 200 people came out on a Saturday in Oct 1985 to hear about family homelessness. And those were the first seeds of the program.

But if I'm really going to be honest with myself – those seeds really took root not then but in the pews of a Presbyterian church in Darien Connecticut. It was a church I attended in my youth. It was an inward-looking church – there was no outreach. During the same time, I had the occasion to go into NYC quite frequently to visit my grandmother who lived in a lower-income area. And there, in this community in NYC there were many people in need, and there were homeless people (but they weren't called homeless then). There was a tension between the two communities: the church that to me acted more like a country club (and Oh I wanted it to be a church) and the community in NYC where I saw people in need. And that inherent tension I don't think has ever left me. In fact I think it has made all the difference.

And so many years later I'm in the Guild Room of Christ Church and I'm meeting with many representatives from congregations about an activity I knew little about. But I was very fortunate because I had Isabelle Devenney by my side for the twelve meetings or so that took place in the Guild Room. Now Isabelle was the official notetaker, but I like to think that God had another role for her, because I wasn't completely sure of myself. I brought a lot of enthusiasm but not a lot of experience. At the end of every single meeting, Isabelle would turn to me and she said “Oh Karen! That was a simple marvelous meeting!” That's all I needed to hear. Each meeting, those melodic tones rolled from Isabelle's lips, and I knew everything was going to be OK.

But it wasn't okay, because next I had to build a board, and I knew nothing boards. We needed a rabbi, a minister, a priest, an accountant, an attorney, a social worker, people from the community, and before I knew it, very quickly – probably too quickly – I had assembled a board… and havoc reigned. But I had Mark Wakefield – one of your former pastors – on the board, and he was a person of such reason. I could turn to him when it looked like a faction of the board just wanted to collect canned goods and clothing or simply raise money for other organizations rather than bring the homeless into the churches. I have to tell that after some of those board meetings, I shed some tears. But there was Mark's support… Mark was on the board – I think he was treasurer – but was that really his role? Or did God plant him there because there was going to be opposition and Mark had a vital role to play?

All that would be enough. We could end the story there about Christ Church's amazing contributions. But then we needed a director. Where do you think that director came from? Christ Church – Anne Parker! Anne had a career in corporate communications and was at the time working from home and had two small children, so she took on this job in unchartered territory. At first we thought it would be 10 hours a week, then 20, then 30 - it ended up close to 40 hours per week. She was the pioneer who paved the way for the hundreds of directors to follow.

And so on October 27, 1986, Christ Church was the first church to host. You hosted families in your classrooms. You had two families: Cheryl and her kids and Marie and her kids. Isabelle was there, of course, and at the end of the first hosting week Cheryl's 12 year old daughter was about to get onto the van to go to the day center and then onto the next host congregation, and this 12-year old guest came up to Isabelle and gave her a big hug and said “Miss Devenney, I want you to know that I'm going on to the next church, but Christ Church will always be my home.” That feeling has never left this church! I've spoken to a number of the families who have stayed at Christ Church, and they say “Y'know, in some churches you get a nosey one, or you know they're doing this so they get their ticket to heaven, but not Christ Church! These people accepted us with open arms.”

That's the power of what you do.

And since that time, you've set up beds, you've done laundry, you've stayed overnight, you've read stories to toddlers, you've rocked babies, you've helped with resumés, you've gone to the hospital when a baby was born, you've done whatever it takes to get families back on their feet. But that's not all. You go above and beyond. Dana and Cathy are still in touch with families. You know, the manual says “The host week ends on Sunday”. It doesn't talk about parties at your home for guests, or birthday or Christmas celebrations, or donating furniture, or helping families move in when they find housing. But that's all of what this congregation does. You have got such an open heart. And through opening your doors you have changed lives.

Today, Homefirst in Union County which was our first Interfaith Hospitality Network has helped more than 4,000 individuals. Nationally we have served more than 230,000 family members. More than 120,000 volunteers are involved. Typically 80% of the families find housing. But these numbers alone can't measure the true impact because you know more and more I'm seeing the power of Family Promise, and I can see it in the simple things – the things we can take for granted – a classroom (and I know your guest families get to use the house next door now and they love it)… a classroom transformed on a Sunday with tables and chairs moved out and rollaway beds moved in, brightly colored comforters, maybe a piece of children's artwork, a toy, a lamp – all of this means so much to families because before they came to you they were living in their cars, or doubled or tripled up, or in a large congregate shelter. That's what Heather thought was going to happen to her when she came to the IHN. She said “Oh I was so afraid to come into this program. I didn't know what to expect. I thought I was going to enter a big gym and there was going to be cots all lined up and I would have to stay up all night with one eye half open to look at my children at night to make sure they were safe. The first congregation she went to was in Westfield and she still remembers. She said “It was just a little cubical, but they had the bed and a dresser and a lamp and they had some toiletries. It was like my own home for the week.” Never take for granted the simplest space that you offer. It means so much to families.

That was also the case for George and Cleve and their two children, who became guests in the Hawaii IHN.

But before they heard about us, they were homeless for several weeks. Yes, Hawaii is the land of paradise, but it is also the land of great unemployment and poverty. Miles and miles of tent cities for homeless people—many of them native Hawai'ins—with no place to live.

George lost his job because of a back injury and he couldn't work. They got behind on the rent and were evicted. They didn't feel safe in the makeshift tent communities along the beach, so they went to their church seeking help.

They asked their pastor if they could sleep in the church, perhaps on the floor in the carpeted library. Because of insurance reasons, the pastor said they couldn't. With nowhere to go, they decided to sleep outside the church where they felt safe rather than the tent camp grounds.

So each night for 32 nights, Cleve and George would drive up to the church after it was dark. They would park right in front of the stones steps. And each night, they would pull out worn comforters, put one on one step and the other on the step above it. Their children would be in the car—their five-year-old in the front and the eight-year-old in the back with the windows cracked so they could hear them and the doors locked. Each morning they would take the kids to a park to wash up and to get them some breakfast at McDonalds. From there George would go to work at a part-time job.

Fortunately, Cleve heard about the IHN and a place opened up for them. As I sat with her at the day center she described becoming homeless and then coming to the IHN. “I have never seen anything like it,” Cleve told me. “Everyone was so welcoming.” “Even the rooms where we slept…each bed had brightly colored comforters.”

That captured it all for Cleve. As she welled up with tears, she told me “I now sleep under a comforter rather than on top of one.”

That image was all she could handle. It was the grace of God working through people that touched her heart.

Never underestimate the difference you make. I often hear volunteers say

Well, I just prepare a meal,
I just do the laundry,
set up the beds,
stay overnight.
I just do this.
I just do that.”

All those ‘justs' add up to a lot! It makes all the difference for families.

There is one woman volunteering at a church about 35 miles from where we sit this morning in Flemington, NJ. She had been doing this for about five years. Her name is Kay Beagle. She is coordinator for Flemington Presbyterian Church. She saw families come and go and families find housing. But she always wondered if she, personally, made a difference.

Now Kay is a crafter. She likes making baskets. So it kind of became a ritual every Tuesday evening that Flemington Presbyterian Church hosts, something that the families all looked forward to, she made baskets with all the guests who came into the program.

So after dinner she brings out the supplies and makes baskets. And this one Tuesday evening there were 12 folks in the Network, a few families, and there was one woman who was in her late 40s and her daughter, and the daughter joined and everyone joined in but Debbie didn't want to join in making the baskets. Kay could encourage her to make the basket, She said, “O no, I can't, I don't know how.” So she sat on the sidelines. But then later that evening everyone went to bed, and Debbie was up watching TV, and Kay was there and they began to talk and Kay said, “Come on, let's make a basket together.” So for the next hour Kay showed Debbie every step of the way how to make the basket, how to weave it, and they talk and Debbie slowly made the basket and at the end of the hour when the basket was made, She held it up and tears began to flow from her eyes, and she thanked Kay profusely for this seemingly very small gift.

She said, “Nobody has ever taken the time to teach me or show me anything, ever, my whole life, even when I was young.”

So here at 11:00 at night in a church in Flemington, NJ two women are making baskets and this guest Mom is given the gift of someone who is fully present, somebody who fully cares, somebody who says, “I value you to stay up late to show you how, together, we can make this basket.”

It's just a basket – yet it is so much more.

It reminds me of the linen table cloths, candles, flowers and music that Mike Paytas from this congregation brings when he and his family prepare a meal and dine with the guest families. He doesn't have to do that. In fact, it's the first I've heard that a host has gone to that extent. When I asked Mike about it, he simply said, “well, wouldn't you like that?” And my answer was simply, “yes.” For Clarissa, a former guest, she told me it made her feel like she was part of the family. For Heather, she said it was like “Chateau de Christ”

The depth to which you give of yourselves heals the hurt of homelessness for the families we serve. And these are things that can't be quantified. You will find outcomes and numbers in annual reports, but it's the power of what you do. And that's what families talk about most. They talk about the meals, they talk about the accommodations, they talk about the social workers at the day center, but most of all they talk about you. They talk about complete strangers who open their doors and care about them. They talk about being able to trust again. They talk about believing in themselves for the first time in a long time. And they talk about having hope for the future.

But, you know, I feel stuck as soon as I say those words. For many families it is a solution, and we celebrate their graduations, and 80% of the families do move on to housing. But we know the core issue we are dealing with is not homelessness. Homelessness is just the symptom. The issue we're dealing with is poverty. The lack of affordable housing, low paying service jobs that don't pay a decent living wage. The lack of affordable child care and healthcare. So I ask you… if we care enough to be there to rock the baby, to prepare a meal, to stay overnight, to come closer to the hurt and the hearts of the families we serve, do we care enough to help change the very systems that causes families to be homeless in the first place?

William Sloan Coffin has said “Compassion and justice are not choices. They're companions.” You see I feel I have a responsibility with 120,000 volunteers involved. It's wonderful. We make a huge difference but it's also a dilemma. So while many families have been helped, many of those same families though housed will be caught in the grinding cycle of poverty.

The President not too long ago was in Lebanon Ohio and spoke with a representative from our affiliate there. He wanted to know all about the Interfaith Hospitality Network. “This is wonderful! And you use no government money? All the food is donated. You use all these volunteers, and you get all these people off the streets.” I don't want IHN's to be a substitute for a housing policy or a health care policy, because I know what families need. So there's a point of tension here, and that point of tension we have translated into goals. Over the next five years we want to involve 5% of our volunteers as advocates. We're off to a good start with a full-time public policy director and funding from the Ford Foundation. We know that our volunteer efforts are critically needed, but we know that the issues are deeper. And we all know the numbers – 1 in 8 live in poverty, 47 million lack healthcare insurance, 800,000 people will be homeless tonight, 3,000,000 over the course of the year, 1 in 10 people will go hungry this month.

We know the numbers. But we also know the faces. We know the people. We know their stories. Wow! What powerful, powerful advocates we could be if we chose to open that door!