Linn Park Homeless Ministry

Feeding the Homeless

The 2nd Friday of each month, BBC partners with other churches to serve a meal to those who gather at Linn Park in downtown Birmingham. This is an opportunity to nurture and feed both physical and spiritual hunger. We meet at the pavillion at Linn Park by 6:00 p.m. to set-up. Brookwood contacts for the Linn Park Ministry are Judy Theriot at jtheriot@redhillsllc.com and Rosanna Tsivourakis at rosannat@brookwood.org.

Ann Watson shares her testimony about her involvement with this ministry:

Lessons from Linn Park

Although I am a newcomer to the Linn Park ministry to feed the homeless, my experiences with the men of Linn Park have profoundly touched my life. I want to focus on three blessings that I received from Linn Park surrounding three homeless men.

The first blessing involved a man I’ll call "Jimmy the Painter." I met Jimmy on my first trip to Linn Park last December. I had brought two new coats to Linn Park in a big black garbage bag and Jimmy needed one badly: he was shivering. That week in December had been a warm one and that day had been fairly balmy up until night fall, when a cold front had blown in. So, the day had gone from warm to cool in a short period of time and, by the time I arrived in Linn Park, a bitter wind was blowing. Jimmy tried on the coat, zipped it up, smiled, and straightened his back from crouched position of trying to stay warm. Now, I have to tell you that there is something absolutely thrilling about physically placing a warm coat on a shivering man. Oh, I’ve taken coats and warm clothes to shelters for years and I have felt good about that, feeling confident that somewhere out there, some needy, anonymous person put my coat to good use. But to witness personally the transformation of a man from crouched and cold to comfortable was perhaps a little blessing to Jimmy but it was an incredible blessing to me. And NOTHING I gave my family or friends this Christmas brought me as much joy as giving that coat to Jimmy the painter.

I have never been so pleased with a present; I was anxious to demonstrate all of its good points to Jimmy.

“Jimmy!” I said, “See this foldaway hood – look, unfold it and that’ll keep that cold wind off your ears!”

“Oh, and look, Jimmy, did you notice it’s fully reversible so you get to choose whether you want to wear the fleece side out or the windbreakers side out, depending on the weather!”

You know what I’m talking about: everyone here has probably had the experience of watching some gift-giver so excited and bubbling over with joy about a gift that he is convinced is the perfect gift. Well, I was the joyous gift-giver that night but you know, that coat was not really anything we would normally consider extra special. It was on sale for $19.95 at Sam’s. It was not until I gave that normal, everyday coat to God, and He put it on a homeless man’s back that it was somehow transformed into something rare, something valuable. I shouldn’t have been surprised at the transformation, because isn’t that what God does to all gifts given in Jesus’ name? He transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. A boy’s few loaves and fishes turns into a feast for 5,000. A Sam’s special coat turns into a treasure.

The next blessing I received from my Linn Park trip involved a homeless man named Mike. You know, I think a lot of us stereotype the homeless as people who have made a lot of bad choices in life – gotten involved in drugs and alcohol and perhaps crime – and have ended up on the streets as a direct result of their own bad choices. That stereotype fits some of the homeless and we should not love them any less. But, anyone who has used that stereotype to avoid helping the homeless should meet Mike.

Mike was a nice-looking, clean-cut, All-American guy who could walk into our fellowship hall today and look like he belonged. He was articulate, polite, and nicely dressed; and his most arresting features were his eyes: they were piercingly clear and intelligent. Mike was not on drugs or alcohol. Staring into those eyes, I had a small shock of recognition. Did I know this man or did he just remind me of someone else? The question haunted me throughout the Linn Park celebration, but his name did not ring a bell. There was just something so familiar about his eyes...

Mike and I talked about his life and God taught me through Mike that not all homeless people are drug addicts or alcoholics or people who choose not to work. Mike, Jimmy, and others had been employed most of their adult lives. They are people who want to work and lead responsible lives, just like you and me. So why are they on the street? Well, I guess one way to look at them is as tightrope walkers. Life is precarious for them because they walk along a tightrope without the safety net that we take for granted, the safety net we so carefully construct of financial savings, insurance, pension and profit sharing plans. The tightrope walkers do not often have the finances to build that safety net. If one ill-wind blows on them – one bad event like sickness, job loss, legal problems, divorce – they fall off the tightrope and there is nothing to catch them.

Mike was one of those fallen, broken men. A few months ago, he had a job driving trucks, a family, and a home. But, he had gone through a divorce which had stripped him financially, and then a thief had finished the job, taking his wallet and his very identity. Without money, a driver’s license, a truck driver’s license, and any way to prove his identity, he found himself on the streets. Mike’s story made me re-examine my own stereotypes about the homeless. As I left him and the other men in Linn Park and went back to my own warm, lighted home, I couldn’t help but think of those men I had met, still out there in the cold, in the dark. But, what kept haunting me throughout the rest of the evening were a pair of eyes: Mike’s eyes. Where had I seen those eyes before?

I was sitting on the couch when a thought struck me and made me jump straight up and rush into the foyer. There, out on the secretary, was displayed a large family Bible. And there he was! Christ, dressed in a white robe with His arms outstretched, and at His feet, the poor, the sick, the lame, the needy. I ignored the long hair, the robes, the beard, and just looked at Christ’s eyes. MIKE'S EYES. Mike’s eyes looked familiar because I had seen them daily, staring out of my family Bible. I ate supper with Jesus tonight! The thought brought me to my knees. Now, don’t get me wrong. I suspect that Jesus did not come to Linn Park in the flesh on December 10. On the other hand, I do not believe that Mike’s resemblance to the picture of Jesus was just an odd coincidence. What I DO believe is that God was using Mike’s eyes to encourage my obedience and to bring scripture to life.

In Matthew 25:40, the apostle writes:

And the king will answer and say unto them, “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto ME.”

So, my second blessing on December 10 was the confirmation that in serving a homeless man, I was serving Jesus himself. I looked a homeless man in the eye and recognized my Lord and Savior. I know of no greater privilege, no greater confirmation of the value of missions.

So, what was my third and final blessing? Well, I went back to Linn Park in January, and took my son. On that occasion, my blessing involved a homeless rapper named Vince. There was not a big crowd at Linn Park that night so there was not an awful lot of food-serving to do, but it was a great opportunity to have some in-depth conversation, so I asked Vince to tell us about his life. His reaction was one of surprise.

“You want to hear about MY life?” he asked. “You really have time for that?”

“Sure,” I said, and so he talked. He told me about his childhood, his troubled years, his years of military service, his life on the streets, his church full of the homeless, his attempt to reach troubled youth through “rapping” the Bible. We talked about religion, politics, scripture. When everybody started to leave, Vince smiled at me and he thanked me. Do you know what he thanked me for? We had given him soup and a new pair of socks and given his friend a new coat. He seemed to appreciate those things, but this is what he said:

"You know that food was good and all and these socks will sure come in handy, but what I really appreciate is your time, you listening to me, and wanting to hear my story. You’re doing what Jesus did, you know. He didn’t just look down from heaven and say, 'Those people down there, they need help. Someone sure ought to help them.' No, He didn’t stay in heaven, He came down, He came HIMSELF. You, you CAME tonight yourself, you took your time and you CAME! Thank you for COMING.”

That’s what Vince, the homeless rapper said to me. Can you believe that a homeless man, a hungry homeless man looked me in the eye and said that he didn’t really care that much about the food; what he cared about is that I followed Jesus’ example and came downtown to minister to him? Whew! I felt a shiver go down my spine, because at that point, he looked like a homeless man, but his words were completely unexpected. They sounded to me like the word of God.

To understand the impact those words had on me, you would have to understand a little background. Last fall in our church chapel, I heard a speaker named Mike Jorgensen from Global Missions Fellowship talk about the Great Commission, the “Go ye therefore” passage, and he said (and I’m paraphrasing)"

You know Jesus gave a command there. He didn’t say: “Go or if you don’t want to go, send money.” He didn’t say: “Go if it’s convenient” “Go if it’s comfortable.” He said, “Go and spread my love and my gospel.”

Since last fall, I have been praying for God to give me opportunities to GO and Vince, the homeless man, had just confirmed God’s answering my prayer.

“Please, Lord, help me GO!” I had prayed. “Thank you for COMING,” the homeless man said. It sounded like thunder in my ears, very like an audible answer to prayer.

I have been asked to share how Linn Park has blessed me. Well, now you know. At Linn Park, I have seen my common gifts transformed into rare and valuable things. I have seen and recognized the eyes of Jesus. I have heard God audibly answer a prayer. And you ask why Linn Park has touched my life. Well, now you know.