If you would like to contribute to Front Row Central, you can reach out to Dawn. We’d love to share your story!
4/22/24
For Beth
By Dawn
A few weeks ago, some of the members of the church council did a walk around of the physical church to make a list of priorities for repair. Of course, Central is an old building and maybe not in the best of repair, however during the tour it became clear to me that our physical space is a hot mess! I could not even focus on where to start first. Thank goodness that some on the council are skilled in this area, so we will be fine, but it reinforced for me the difference between us and most churches in how we invest our time and resources. We invest in people, not property. Our money goes to resources and events and activities that support love and care and dignity for all those that attend and worship. Our building may need much work, but we have all the right investment priorities!
The person at the center of our investment priorities, the person that it affects the most, the one that must cope or adjust or work around something broken or missing is Beth, our Administrator. In all that she must do to keep the work of Central on track, Beth is also the person that is most likely to put her investment of time and care into people. She is the model for all of us to follow of how investing in another person pays the greatest of dividends.
After Church on Sunday, we celebrated Beth, much to her surprise. As the floor was opened to people in the church audience to offer words of gratitude, we heard beautiful words of people that felt valued, over, and over in their encounters, people who felt like they were an asset, not a problem, even in their worst hour.
Thank you, Beth for being our model.
3/25/24
The Main Attraction
By Dawn
I missed Sunday church service for three weeks in a row! Unusual since my husband and I started attending Central in 2021. I love the wonder and awe I feel each Sunday, and for one reason or another, my heart is always open and present to the love of neighbor that happens during each worship service. My grandmother would have called this feeling the Holy Spirit at work, and I know no better explanation.
I realized in my absence, however, that while Sunday is always a highlight, it isn’t the main attraction. Central has a way of pulling you in, of welcoming you in a profound way to care and love for others. Simply put, during the week, we work! Each week at Central many people are served and receive lifesaving and life sustaining supports and care. There are meaningful small groups and deeper groups, creative and fun activities, church council meetings, and more.
Maybe our Sunday service at Central is most importantly a celebration of a week’s worth of service, love, and community, and a space where we can be healed, sustained, and prepared for the week ahead. I left this Sunday service filled with extra gratitude for all those that make each week’s celebration so beautiful and necessary for all the hard work to come. Thank you.
2/26/24
The Welcome
By Dawn
Part of my professional work as a social worker is serving new immigrants just arrived to the United States. Although the “politics” of welcoming the stranger is increasingly difficult to navigate, especially in Texas, it is beautiful work. Maybe our leaders need to be reminded of the radical call in both the Old and the New Testaments to welcome the stranger, the migrant far from home.
But for sure, at Central, we have not forgotten. In fact, we embrace it.
Just a few weeks ago, I heard a man sitting behind me before the Sunday service saying that when he comes to Central, “they don’t look at you like you’re crazy”. I wasn’t part of the conversation, yet I thought for days afterwards about all the ways that we practice the sacred act of welcoming to anyone that comes to the door.
Even more than this, welcome is extended to every member of our community. Regardless of appearances, beliefs, social class, or credentials, everyone that shows up is welcomed to take up the collection, to sing in the choir, to serve the sacred communion.
This act of welcoming, in all the ways that it is expressed at Central, makes everyone feel worthy and valued. Maybe that is why I keep showing up, with more and more eagerness. I feel welcomed.
1/15/24
Going up the River: Part 3
By Rick
Last week we examined the assumption that homelessness is caused by the personal deficiencies of the homeless themselves. We have been operating with this paradigm for decades. Judging by the rapid increase in homelessness, this focus on individual behavior has not worked very well.
An alternative perspective is the evidence-based approach of the social sciences. Social problems, problems involving masses of people, need social solutions. Unfortunately, that is not the way our brains are wired. Whether it is the milk spoiling because somebody didn’t put it back in the refrigerator, school shootings, or the war in Gaza, when we are confronted with a problem our brains immediately try to blame somebody. Inflation? It’s Biden’s fault (or Trump’s, depending on your political tribe). About to be evicted for non-payment of rent? Your husband’s fault for losing his job. People sleeping on the streets? Must be something wrong with them.
Once we turn our attention to broader socioeconomic causes, what jumps out is the serious deficit of affordable housing. This has two parts: (1) not enough housing and (2) not enough income. Personal issues such as mental illness and addiction are risk factors for individuals, of course, but studies indicate that homeless rates in different cities and different parts of the country do not correlate with rates of mental illness or addiction at all. They correlate almost perfectly, however, with differences in the cost of housing.
The shortage of affordable housing is a complex problem. Locally, Vision Galveston has spent a lot of effort in examining how middle-income people, teachers, police, and fire fighters, could afford to live in Galveston. Right now, unless people are lucky - living in a house bought years ago when economic factors were different, having a well-paid spouse, living with more affluent relatives, etc., it is almost undoable. And if we cannot find a way to allow middle-income people to live in Galveston, how are the no-income people going to survive?
The second part of the problem, lack of income, is not caused by any shortage of money being made in America. Quite the contrary; in the last fifty years the Gross National Income has rocketed up. The problem is inequality – in the last fifty years the very rich have captured almost all of this increase in wealth, the rest of us are treading water, while those at the bottom of the ladder are drowning.
Inequality is a problem in economics, but it is more than that. Structuring the economy so that some have more than they can possibly use while others sleep on the streets is, more than anything, a moral problem.
While much of this is beyond the scope of this series, at Central the “rescue of babies”, and the conditions up river that led to their precarious state come together in the revolutionary teachings of Jesus. The power of the people at the bottom to change an unjust world feels possible in all that we do around here to love and care for each other.
1/7/24
Going up the River: Part 2
By Rick
If we do “go up the river” to find explanations of why so many people are experiencing homelessness, we find different ways of looking at it. One way is the “common sense” notion there is something wrong with the individuals who don’t have a home. It might be mental illness, substance abuse, lack of education or training, lack of interpersonal skills, family alienation, chronic lateness, inability or unwillingness to follow directions, etc. And if homelessness is caused by the deficiencies of the people experiencing it, the solution is obvious. Either fix them or punish them.
“Fixers” advocate programs that treat mental illness and addiction, provide job training and education, teach interpersonal skills, and so on. The underlying idea is that once individual problems are fixed, homelessness will fix itself – they will get a job, rent an apartment, become solid citizens, etc. And once enough individuals are fixed, the problem of homelessness will go away, or at least be a lot less pressing. We won’t be stepping over people sleeping in the street.
Oddly enough, the “punishers” share the opinion that homelessness is caused by deficiencies of those experiencing it, but they blame these deficiencies on the homeless persons themselves. It’s their own fault, the thinking goes, so why should we help them? Maybe if we make their lives even more miserable, they will quit bothering good taxpaying citizens like us and go somewhere else.
Their solution is to turn the problem over to the police, insisting the cops enforce our ordinances that make it illegal to sleep on public property. Since it’s already illegal to even go on private property, criminalizing sleeping on public property looks like a good idea. “Those people” must sleep somewhere, and since every place they can sleep is illegal , well, they will just have to go to some other city, making it somebody else’s problem!
From my point of view, it is not hard to see that punishing those experiencing homeless, besides being ethically and morally questionable, doesn’t even try to solve the problem. But more to the point, it is very, very difficult in a democracy to make the lives of unsheltered people worse than they already are. After all, the only tool the police have is arrest, and as unpleasant as being locked up in the Galveston County jail might be, you do get meals and a roof over your head, things that you don’t get living on the streets. An arrest just starts a revolving door of incarceration, release to the streets, further arrests, – rinse and repeat. The sad thing is that it makes the problem worse. If it’s hard for a person to get a job, it’s lot harder with a criminal record.
But the “fix them” approach hasn’t solved the problem either. Don’t get me wrong – attempts to deal with the evils associated with homelessness by helping the individuals affected are not just good things, they are necessary. They are the real-world equivalent of the frantic efforts of our imaginary townsfolk trying to save the babies drowning in the river, the allegory we looked at last week. In the real world, people who can’t get a job, or worse, are unable to work at all, need help. Those who suffer from ill health, whether physical or mental, need access to treatment. Addiction to substances, whether crystal meth, alcohol or opiates, causes immense human suffering. A program like Central’s new substance use disorder treatment clinic on Tuesdays is literally a godsend.
A godsend, yes, necessary, but not enough. Just as the number of babies floating down the river kept increasing despite the efforts of the good people in that city by the river, the number of Galveston’s unsheltered is increasing, despite all our efforts.
Pastor Michael in a recent sermon quoted Einstein: “Problems cannot be solved with the same mindset that created them.” The mindset that sees the personal deficiencies of the unsheltered as the cause of their misery is one way of looking at it, but it clearly has not led to a solution. Maybe we need entirely different ways of looking.
Next time we will look at some possibilities for the different mindset that we so badly need.
1/1/24
Going up the River: Part I
By Rick
During Christmas we reconnected to the story of Mary, Joseph, and the soon-to-be-born Jesus, poor people desperately searching for shelter, for a safe place. The Christmas story particularly resonates with us at Central, because serving the poorest of the poor in Galveston is our specialty!
While we are helping, as best we can, I sometimes think of an old tale about a mythical town on a river where infants started to float by in little baskets, losing their lives to the raging current. The townsfolks sprang into action to save as many as they could. They organized rescue teams to get the infants out of the river, medical teams to deal with their injuries, teams to feed, cloth and nurture those they had saved.
Of course they did! The unnecessary death of children is the essence of an “all hands-on deck” emergency. Allowing children to die, children that we could save, is such a violation of human nature as to call into question the humanity of anyone involved in it.
But despite the townsfolks’ best efforts, the number of children floating down the river kept increasing. It became clear that helping the drowning castoffs, while something they absolutely had to do, was not going to the root of the problem. At least some of the villagers had to go up the river and find out why all these children were being sent to their deaths. Only then could they figure out solutions.
Similarly, the work at Central with our brothers and sisters experiencing homelessness is vitally important, for my money, the most important thing we do. And make no mistake, this is a life and death situation. If you are living on the streets, living without shelter or protection, you are much more likely to die in 2024 than people who do have shelter. It is asking a lot for Central to turn at least a part of our attention to “going up the river” and asking why. Why is the number of people without shelter increasing? Even more basically, why are people homeless in the first place?
On the next “Going up the river” post I’d like to examine the debate on what causes homelessness. The usual answer is to focus on the people experiencing it – there is something wrong with them (or maybe a lot of things wrong) and the answer obviously is to fix them. But there is another very different way of looking at the problem.
12/4/23
Lightning Bolt
By Dawn
A few weeks ago, Rev. Dr. Vincent Harris, the District Superintendent for our larger community, gave the sermon at Central. He talked about how, with each new day, we are new, renewed in the eyes of God. This is a powerful message to those that are worn down by limited choices and limited opportunities. That they can see themselves as fully loved and valued by our creator in the present moment, regardless of the past, is healing and empowering.
For me, a person of many privileges, that thought is encouraging yet isn’t the same powerful message. For my whole life I’ve had the resources (mostly unearned) to re-invent how I see myself, to start over when a direction didn’t serve me or my family.
But during the communion that followed, it came to me in a lightning bolt moment that maybe the important message for me isn’t so much about me and how I see myself, but how I see others. What would it be like if I saw others as God does, as brand new, renewed? Could I do it? Could I see my challenging relatives at Thanksgiving, or the man at the park with all his demons on display, as brand new, loved and valued by our creator? As if each day every person is reborn in love and patience and possibility? Would that change how I respond?
I’ll tell you that this has been hard. Mainly, I keep forgetting, because I am conditioned and trained to see people in a social context, not a spiritual one. I will keep trying. One time I was close, so I’m encouraged! What I am sure of is that this is the type of love among each other that we are meant to cultivate in our communities, and that Central is uniquely the type of place that it can happen, that we can practice seeing each other as beautiful and new each day.
11/15/23
God Will Provide
By Roslyn
My spouse lost her job earlier this year. This meant that we also lost health insurance benefits.
My spouse wept during church service; we were so troubled.
In the search for a new position, my spouse spoke to someone at church. She shared that she needed employment as soon as possible. That conversation helped to facilitate employment for her within a week! This job allowed my spouse to get health benefits, but the insurance was too expensive for both of us.
One Sunday, after church, I was walking to the car, and I stopped to talk with someone that I didn't know. I asked (for some reason) if he worked at UTMB. He said yes, and I told him that my spouse was looking for a job. Without hesitation he shared the names of people that we could contact about a job.
A few Sundays later, we shared our need with yet another person at church that only visits on occasion. She began to cry when we told her about my spouse's job situation. She said that she knew that God had her at church for a reason that day. She was able to connect us with the names of people to contact about employment at UTMB. After completing the application process, with this added connection, my spouse was able to get a job at UTMB.
Several people from Central helped to facilitate employment for my spouse. This led to affordable health insurance for both of us.
Every day I called on Jehovah Jireh, which means, “God will provide".
We are grateful for the people at Central.
10/31/24
The Bank
By Dawn
As we end this official month of Pastor appreciation at Central, after much reflection, the thing that I most appreciate about Julia and Michael is that they have created for us so many opportunities to care for one another. In all the work, activities, and events going on at Central, every caring word or conversation, every physical act of service, and every stance of solidarity with others in our community allows us the ability to contribute to a spiritual and emotional bank account. And just like a “real” bank account, we will need it as Pastor Julia preached this last Sunday, when times are hard, tragedy strikes, and love and goodness seem far away, our savings will help us stay connected to our common humanity. So even when our lives, or even the whole world seems closer to despair than to the divine, the bank of Central is always open for business. Thank you, Julia and Michael.
10/16/23
The Path
By Dawn
There has been lots of “official” talk in Galveston about people in our community that don’t have access to housing. They may have temporary shelter, or live in their car, or, as the place of last resort, outside on the streets. Different groups have different ideas about who they actually are, and how to respond.
At Central, we put Orthopraxy ahead of Orthodoxy as Pastor Michael preached this past Sunday, meaning that first we serve with our hands and hearts, as modeled and directed by Jesus. The who, what, and where, the policy, or theory is not what animates our actions. We engage, we get to know and care and love for the members of our community that are living in this inhumane situation, this place where it is impossible to thrive.
As a community of faith, we suffer together, which makes our path not complicated, or too expensive, or not practical. It makes our path clear.
10/2/23
The Arc
By Dawn
I loved Pastor Julia’s sermon this past Sunday. The image of us running together in a sort of relay race, working towards a better world is soothing and hopeful. As is the idea that the arc of the Moral Universe is long, but it bends towards justice. We may not see a just world in our lifetime, we only get a small part of the arc, but that is OK. Our job is simply to be faithful to our part of the race.
I think that what is special about the solidarity and service we provide to each other at Central is that it gives us a new perspective; it opens for us a longer view of the arc; we see more of what is possible. And the more we love and care for other here and now, the more it gives us hope for that certain future.
During the same service, one of our participants was having trouble staying awake and began snoring quite loudly. When another participant gently got up and moved to sit with them and help them stay awake, my heart melted. It was the kindest gesture, which around Central, seems contagious.
9/17/23
The Line
By Dawn
This past Thursday at Central was extra busy. Weary from the heat, many people that are unsheltered showed up for support, care, respite, and rest. The shower line and the laundry line filled up early. By the time I arrived, the end of the line was in sight, but frustrations were running high, and I was in a full sweat trying to keep it moving along! Our guests that hadn’t been able to shower for more than a week were eager for their spot in the line to arrive.
After the last person had showered, and all the laundry dried, I stayed to help Ezra and Michael a bit with cleaning up. While changing the trash in the laundry room upstairs, I noticed a small plastic bag filled with cigarette butts that someone had carefully sealed and placed in the trash. That a person, without shelter, living precariously on the streets of our city, at the mercy of the physical and social environments would have such consideration for others, for the ecology of our coastal city, even in this small way, not to simply drop the butts on the ground, touched my heart deeply.
Our pastors are talking about Hope in our current sermon series. I left that day, even after the witness of so much “harsh and dreadful” suffering and decline, full of hope. That care for something larger than the individual self, even when vulnerable and living on the margins, survives. That the human spirit cannot be crushed so easily is all I need to keep moving forward.
9/10/23
Be Central
By Gabby Gariby
Throughout my time at Central, I've had the privilege of occupying various seats within the sanctuary, but I can honestly say that I don't think that I've experienced the front row. Currently, my church family and I find ourselves nestled midway through the left section, right by the "welcome home" sign. I've had the opportunity to serve communion when needed, affording me a unique perspective as I gaze out upon the diverse congregation that has blossomed since Central's revitalization. It fills me with immense joy to be able to address familiar faces among our church members and administer the sacraments to you.
My personal journey aligns with that of many within Central's community. I arrived with Methodist roots, having previously attended a Southern Baptist mega church in Houston before making my home in Galveston. Central welcomed me with open arms, offering unconditional acceptance and the space to undergo a spiritual deconstruction and reconstruction. During this transformative phase, I not only met my now-husband but also forged the closest friendships I've ever known.
Having served as a deeper group leader for five years, I've witnessed our community's fluctuations, mirroring the transient nature of Galveston's population, which ebbs and flows much like the tides.
As I sit here and reflect on my role as a partner in Central (even though I've yet to complete the partnership class—my apologies to Michael and Julia), I am utterly awestruck by the remarkable growth and progress we've achieved as a community. The recent ministry fair was a testament to our development, showcasing the myriad teams that have sprung into action to meet the diverse needs of our congregation. Indeed, there's an abundance of work to be done as we advocate for justice within our unhoused community, the LGBTQIA+ community, and work towards the sustainability of the very island we call home.
Let us stand firm, fortified by the grace of God, for as the saying goes, "Grace wins." Central serves as a living testament to the transformative power of grace, capable of reshaping lives and entire communities. I encourage you all to move forward with unwavering determination. May we always "go forth and be Central".
9/4/23
The Vision
By Dawn
In every encounter, sermon, meeting, really in all things at Central there is a synergy. Somehow the activity/issue/sermon for the week comes together as inspiration and motivation. Everything good seems possible and I feel at my creative best in this community. So, this new sermon series that is underway, how can we “practice hope” together, is like fuel to my fire.
The beach, the natural beauty, the birds and wildlife, UTMB and the medical college, the history, particularly the history of resilience of our tiny barrier island amidst a great sea draws an amazing mixture of people to visit and to live here. I see this as an opportunity for an experiment in kindness and care like no other. Every time I drive over the causeway, I have a vision of what is possible: a place where everyone can thrive, a model for other communities. I know it can happen, and the love and work at Central can lead the way.
8/21/23
The Dormitory
By Dawn
If you don’t already know, soon, Central will begin the work of sheltering people! I can hardly believe my good fortune to be a part of this loving community and to be a part of this new housing venture. The critical work of offering showers and laundry and health care is life sustaining, yet this is just the beginning. We know and love the people that live unprotected and vulnerable in our city, suffering from the heat that most of us can escape.
Last Thursday, after returning from vacation, I visited with a young person that I check in with every week at Central. They shared the news that they had recently received, finally, an apartment. I was overwhelmed with joy! And, I am looking forward to their future. Our support and care are still important—the transition is a challenge for many newly sheltered people.
The table has been set for us at Central, as our pastors tell us every week. This past Sunday, as I walked up to the altar, that phrase became real to me for the first time. The table has indeed been set for us, and there is so much we can do.
7/17/23
The Car Seat
By Amy
Last Tuesday, one of our community members introduced me to a new father, Jason, who was searching for a car seat. Jason and his significant other, Lucy, were the proud new parents of a baby that had arrived a little earlier than expected. While they were grateful that their little one was healthy and ready to go home, their discharge from the hospital was looking impossible. They did not have an infant car seat and had no way to get one. Jason woke up Tuesday morning and started driving around Galveston praying that someone had set a car seat on the curb to discard. When he drove by the church and saw people sitting outside, he stopped to see if anyone knew of a place he could go for help. They told him to come inside.
Since I help distribute household goods to our members that secure housing, Jason was brought to me in hopes that I had a car seat to give. We did not have one, but told him that we would try to find someone that could assist. Pastor Julia and I began phoning all of the agencies that we knew. As each phone call was rerouted to a dead end, I could feel Jason’s anxiety grow. I called the final place on our list and began to smile. The person on the other end said that they had car seats available to parents in need. They just needed Jason to take a safety class before they could give it to him. That sounded great! The only problem was that the next class was in two weeks. Jason looked so defeated as I hung up the phone.
Without hesitation or question, Pastor Julia asked if I was able to run to the store and grab a car seat. Long story short - I dropped off a brand new infant carrier to Jason and Lucy at the hospital so they could leave with their baby. I can’t adequately describe how grateful and relieved they were. They were planning to leave Galveston and go stay with family that were waiting to love on the new baby. Jason told me that he had no clue what he was going to do when he woke up that morning. He was scared to think about what would happen if he had not been able to secure a car seat. He kept asking what we wanted in return for the seat. Work? Money? He could not believe that it was theirs. No strings attached.
Jason and Lucy may have been shocked, but I was not. These kinds of miracles happen every week around here. There are no lengthy forms. No classes. No requirements. No hoops to jump through. No waiting period. If a need is within Central’s ability, it gets met. Love and grace are freely given without hesitation or question.
(Names have been changed.)
7/10/23
Care for a Stranger
By Rick
Yesterday, as I was riding my bike on the Seawall sidewalk, a Central member flagged me down to help with an unsheltered man who was clearly in need of help. Keeping in mind that I am not a medical professional, nor do I have any inside information on Galveston EMS protocols, I thought maybe the guidelines I have for myself in such a situation might be helpful. So, for what it’s worth:
If it’s a medical emergency, or you think it might be a medical emergency, call 911. Yeah, I know. First graders know this. Thing is, people who would immediately call 911 if they saw a tourist down and unresponsive will avert their eyes and walk on by if the person looks homeless. On the occasions that I have come across an unresponsive affluent-looking tourist and called 911, other people had already called it in. If the person down appears homeless, you can bet you’ll be the only 911 caller. My rule is that if I would call 911 were it a tourist lying there, I’ll call it in with someone poorly dressed and unkempt. I figure that it’s not my job to judge, it’s the dispatchers. My experience in Galveston is that they are very good at their job.
Stay with them until you talk to the dispatcher. They will have questions for you, and maybe some instructions. They need to find out if the person is unresponsive, and if they are responsive, if they want an ambulance. It won’t take long for them to decide, and if they do decide to send an ambulance, it will get there very quickly, and there will be a highly trained paramedic on board.
But, what if it’s not really an emergency, but the person clearly needs help? This was the situation yesterday, and it’s much more difficult to know the right thing to do. I need to think about this some more, and if you have any thoughts, please share them with Dawn.
7/3/23
What do I do?
By Rick
Note: occasionally, Front Row Central will feature stories from unsheltered persons in Galveston. I have made no attempt to fact-check these stories, and I have changed any details that might identify the storyteller. The details of the story therefore may be accurate, or not, but either way I hope they help us to understand a little of how homelessness looks from the viewpoint of a person experiencing it.
D: “I was doing fine until I wasn’t.”
I met D four or five years ago when he was a manager at a local fast-food restaurant, so I was surprised to see him living on the street. Like many Galvestonians working in the hospitality industry, he was fired in the early days of the pandemic when business cratered. Some workers got rehired when business improved, others got different jobs. D was unable to do either, though he’s still trying to get a job, any job. He had no money saved, no relatives to help him out, no cushion at all. For a while, unemployment kept him afloat, but that ran out. He was on the street.
But to him, that wasn’t the worse part. What was worse, much worse, was how unemployment destroyed his self-image. He had always seen himself as a working man, someone who for the last forty years had supported his family. Now his family was gone; he couldn’t even support himself.
D attributes his inability to be hired to two factors; one was that he had physical damage that prevented him from heavy lifting. No problem back when he was a manager, but a very real problem for most of the jobs in the hospitality industry. The work is hard on the body, and he was pushing sixty.
And that, of course, was the biggest problem. No one wanted to hire people his age. Period. Business owners with Help Wanted signs all over the place wouldn’t even talk to him. A sixty-year-old lawyer, engineer, or college professor is going to have big trouble finding a comparable job if they lose the one they have, but a member of the working class who can’t do heavy labor anymore? Not a chance.
Unfortunately for D, although he is “too old” to get a job, he isn’t old enough to draw on the social security or Medicare that he has paid into all these years. He figures he will just have to suck it up until he turns 62 and can draw his social security, and somehow stay healthy until he turns 65 and is eligible for Medicare.
D is not one of our regulars, but I’m relating his story as an example of a story I’ve heard over and over at Central – I’m too old to get hired, but too young for social security/Medicare. What do I do?
6/26/23
Join Us
By Rick
As in most beach towns dependent on tourism, Galveston police have a “live and let live” reputation when dealing with disturbances of public order. Strict enforcement of the laws against public intoxication and disorderly conduct at Mardi Gras or the Lone Star Rally would be a disaster - jail space would run out in the first couple of hours and next year’s events would be held in some other city.
But the understandable “don’t mess with the tourists” attitude of city officials has resulted in collateral damage to persons experiencing homelessness in Galveston. There is not nearly enough shelter space here, and the unsheltered have to sleep somewhere.
Historically, many slept in places out of sight, including parts of the beach that are not visible from the seawall. But lately, an increasing number have migrated to the seawall sidewalk to sleep, despite the disadvantages of sleeping on concrete and the increased vulnerability to police action. Most tourists are uncomfortable even seeing unsheltered people, much less having to step around them. “Don’t mess with tourists” includes keeping unsheltered people out of sight.
The See/Judge/Act small group is looking into the causes for this sudden increase in sleeping on the sidewalk, the downsides of the current crackdown, and how Central can help. Our next meeting is July 2nd at 9:30 am, upstairs in the clinic area of Central. Join us!
6/19/23
The Plan
By Dawn
In the sermon this Sunday, Pastor Julia preached about the never-ending opportunity and call from God to reconcile. Always, the door is open to return to the loving embrace of a welcoming parent. Having just returned from three days at the New York Catholic Worker house, a place where saints are made, and radical hospitality to the most vulnerable on the streets of New York City is practiced, this idea of reconciliation hit home in a new way.
What if this is it, the fundamental act of our faith as humans: to reconcile this great gap between the well and the weary, the hungry and the full. Maybe every act of generosity and kindness to people that are excluded, lonely, suffering, no matter the measure, is one step closer to the promise of Heaven on earth. Maybe by reconciling with each other, we reconcile also with God, our creator that loves us all equally.
My plan is to keep showing up at Central and do all I can to reconcile with my sisters and brothers. It may be a small effort, yet the fact that life is so hard for some, and so easy for others, calls out to be reconciled.
6/5/23
For Reagan
By Dawn
This week at Central was Pride Sunday, a formal day to celebrate and honor all the beauty and bravery of our Queer community. But really, every day is Pride Sunday at Central--the reason I first fell in love with this church.
Many people grew up in a religion that was shaming and cruel to anyone outside “expected” gender roles, and this was true for my family. So, when my niece, Reagan, came out as lesbian in her teens, we were afraid. Afraid that people would hurt her and that our society would keep her from achieving her goals in life. And even in my progressive and educated family, the realization that we too had been poisoned by the religious messages that being gay or trans was wrong in some way needed to be reconciled.
That difficult time seems so long ago. Reagan is here, queer, and glorious! A college graduate and a military veteran with a bright future. While I grieve the wrong and harmful messages she heard from the pulpit, from her private Christian school, from her family, I am proud to be a part of a very different message for others.
I have learned in my two years at Central that the rainbow flag hanging from the old Central Methodist sign on the corner of 33rd and O ½ is more than a gesture of solidarity. The flag is a promise to all that pass by, that this place sees and loves you, exactly as you are. That, as Pastor Michael preached this Sunday, being a follower of Christ means that we acknowledge with our hearts and our labor that all of creation is holy.
There is so much goodness at Central. Every time I walk through the doors, I feel a part of the undoing of an unjust social and economic system. This is what it means to me to be a Christian.
5/22/23
The Promise
By Dawn
This past Thursday at Central was busy! Grace Clinic was full, and, with much of the church still out of commission due to the renovations, everywhere downstairs, including the sanctuary, was crowded. I met new people, visited with friends, and did a slightly better job this time of keeping the shower list moving. Overall, I hope I made myself more of a help than not! There were many connections that day, all opportunities to give and receive sincerity, gentleness, and kindness.
But there is always a kind of energy about Tuesday/Thursday at Central that goes above and beyond the therapeutic interactions that take place. We have been learning about the Gifts of Wesleyanism in sermons for the past six weeks, discussing key principals of giving grace, justice-making, leadership, and this past Sunday, the very real fact that we need each other, that loneliness is too great a burden for the human heart and mind.
Pondering this gave me a new understanding of what makes Central feel divine. All of us have troubles, insecurities, heartaches –they are a part of the human condition. But when you add to this the loneliness and isolation of being without a home, of sleeping on the sidewalk or the beach, it is hard to take. But on Tuesday/Thursday we have each other, and God is surely with us—just as promised.
5/8/23
The World as it Should Be
By Chad
On Sunday, we had three junior highers come upstairs for service with me, the Youth Director, while the main service took place. As they sat around on couches in the youth room, I held a pair of frames that used to be glasses and said, "these are special glasses. When you put these on, you'll see the world as it should be. Who wants to try them on first and tell us what you see?"
Immediately one student's hand went up and I got my marker and board ready. She proceeded to describe the world as it should be, "No racism. No sexism. No homophobia. No endangered animals. No poverty." The frames were passed to the next student. "Education is accessible for everyone. No homeless. No bullying." The frames were passed to the last student. "Not tearing each other down. Less hurting each other. Everyone treated the same. No one is hungry."
This kicked off our discussion on justice making. But I felt in that moment, there wasn't too much more to teach. They got it with radical simplicity. Creating a snapshot of what a just society looks like becomes a simple activity when you've experienced what injustice is. My heart often feels like accordion bellows when it comes to hope for the future- waxing and waning. But it's moments like this that make me feel pretty full of hope.
Let me pass the frames to you, reader. What do you see when the world is as it should be? And an even better question, what are you doing to make it look like that? May we have the frames to see, and hearts and hands ready to make it so.
5/1/23
Do Not Be Afraid
by Dawn
It has been a little over a year since I was carjacked in my driveway. There were two masked men, one grabbed me from the rear, the other pointed a gun at my head. I managed to get away without major injuries. They got the car and my purse.
Over the next few days, I retreated into a shell, like a turtle. Afraid to go outside alone and afraid of the dark, even though the carjacking happened in broad daylight. Family came to stay with us on Saturday as a helpful distraction, but early into the next week, it was clear to me that bouncing back was not going to happen soon.
On Thursday morning, exactly one week later, I made myself leave the house and go to Central to help with the showers and the laundry. Today I know and love many of the people from our unsheltered community, but a year ago most everyone was a stranger to me. I’m still trying to process exactly what happened, but that day at Central was a tipping point for me. I saw that I had a choice. I could retreat into fear of others, of strangers, or, do as Jesus told us over and over-- don’t be afraid. In the weeks afterwards, being among a loving community, caring for strangers and friends, worshiping together, helped to soothe my fear.
So, every week now, I revel in the opportunity that we have at Central to love our neighbors as ourselves. There is something about actively caring for another person, especially a stranger, that transforms a heart. It creates a kind of compassion for everyone, even for those that hurt you, that drives out fear.
I wish I could say that I have totally recovered my sense of safety. What I can say is that, like many others, I feel safe and loved at Central. Exactly what I need.
4/17/23
Easter
By Dawn
Easter at Central--all I can say is…wow! From the art to the music to the procession of people of all faiths and beliefs, it felt like something glorious being celebrated. As Michael preached, resurrection is for the living, and I felt alive.
Even in our grand celebrations, being with God’s people, worshiping among the poor and excluded, we share their burdens, their angst and anxieties. At any moment, a person can feel closed in or too anxious or exhausted or afraid and need to leave the service abruptly, slamming a door, or calling out in the middle of the sermon; always to be soothed and acknowledged in some caring or affirming way by the staff and pastors. We bring our whole community into the sanctuary, and we hang on for the Christ, for the Kingdom, for the housing, for the job, all together.
This is why I return each week to Central, for this constant opportunity to experience the healing powers of solidarity, for myself and others. Being together can be discomforting and be compelling at the same time, and still be our way forward. Like the Easter sermon, our opportunity for resurrection.
4/3/23
The Power of Practice
By Dawn
A few weeks ago, I was having dinner with a friend and talking about the challenges of our work: hers in the tough field of disaster recovery, mine with newly arriving asylum seekers and refugees. I am soft spoken by nature and sensitive to others and to the world around me. I have worked hard in my profession over the years to "toughen up", to be more confident, assertive, and effective. Yet, somehow, as I was sharing with my friend, I seem to get softer and more sensitive every year!
I spend a lot of time in solidarity with people that are struggling, and I know that this changes me for the better, expands my heart. Yet we are trained that professional success is something very different. To "do" work is to have a tangible outcome, and to feel as if we have failed if we do not. About this time, my friend shared with me a poem written by Adrienne Rich in the late 1970s.
“...But gentleness is active/gentleness swabs the crusted stump/invents more merciful instruments/to touch the wound beyond the wound.”
I think this is why I feel so comfortable at Central, and at the same time, why it is such an open and inviting place for others. Gentleness is active everywhere and present in all the ways that we practice radical inclusiveness throughout Galveston. I have been paying attention to this for the past few weeks at Central and I have come to recognize and feel complete in the practice of being gentle. Just like the poem, we don't, and may never know what magic it holds for the recipient.
3/27/23
Do you belong?
By Rick
Are you accepted by the people you meet? Or do you feel unconnected, excluded, even ostracized? Maybe that has happened occasionally to most of us, but it happens constantly to people without shelter. Being excluded just when you need others the most is particularly hurtful and cruel.
I’ve been talking to some of our unsheltered guests about their feeling of belonging. It’s a hard subject to bring up, a stupid question, I guess. Of course, they feel excluded, ostracized, because they usually are. At Central, we try our best to include them, to treat them as they want to be treated, and that seems a large part of why many show up. A meal, a shower, laundry facilities, help with bicycle repair, these are important, but I don’t think they are the most important thing. Psychologists tell us that feeling that you belong is a necessity for good mental health, but it goes beyond even that. A good meal is good for your body. Interacting with people who welcome you instead of avoiding you is good for your soul.
3/13/23
The Monk
By Connor
I was walking in the mall with a friend last month when we walked by a young man holding a stack of small books. I was expecting a typical salesman trying to overcharge me on something I’d never use, but his appearance caught my eye. He had ragged clothes, made to be worn for days on end. It’d clearly been a while since he shaved. When he looked our way and said, “How’re you guys doing?”, I noticed a genuine happiness and sincerity in his smile. I stopped my friend and began talking to him.
He introduced himself as a traveling monk from Florida, who was spreading the word of yoga and Krishna consciousness. He handed me two books, both by the famous Indian guru A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada and asked about us and Houston.
I recognized Prabhupada’s name from a book I’d read and questioned the monk about it. His face lit up as he realized that a random person he stopped knew about the guru. He and I talked for 5–10 minutes (much to his delight) about his travels, his society, and what little I knew about Hindu tradition. I took the books and contributed some money for his endeavors. He seemed genuinely overjoyed that someone was interested in what he had to say.
I saw his joy. For a fleeting second, I saw God in his words and his smile. Central’s creed asks if certainty is necessary for faith. Pastor Michael often talks about his meditation practices. A rabbi comes by almost every Sunday.
Central taught me that God is infused in everything and everyone. While we as Christians find spiritual worth in church and the Gospels, to say that God (or a desire to know Him) isn’t also present in mosques, statues of Krishna, and meditation is, in a way, saying He isn’t in the hearts of those who seek Him.
Looking back, I realized that, had I never come to Central, I more than likely would have engaged in small talk, politely denied the books, and gone on my way. Maybe I would have simply walked by without making eye contact.
Because of Central, I saw his smile.
3/6/23
The Sermon
By Dawn
Rick wrote a few weeks ago about the importance of the safety that is provided at Central for the unsheltered community of Galveston. We are, in more ways than one, a sanctuary for the mind and body each Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. While not enough, it keeps people moving forward under impossible conditions, and it is beautiful in the way that caring for another person, especially a stranger, opens your heart.
Yet there is something else happening at Central that is also fundamental to the human condition. Yes, we are an access point for high quality healthcare, and other things that we all need. Yet I was reminded in the sermon yesterday about the healing power of our shared dignity and worth. Like safety, dignity and value gets affirmed and reaffirmed with every kind conversation, meal, shower, and load of laundry. In this space we are partners, the sheltered and the unsheltered, the sick and the well, in the recognition that allowing people to live and survive without meeting even their basic needs harms us all, demoralizes us all, dehumanizes us all. This is the message we send.
The future may be unknowable, but the present moment is full of power and potential to value each other. Once we all walk out the door, the magic may be gone, but our solidarity lingers.
2/27/23
The Visitor
By DSS
I have been a visitor at Central a few times now, attending with a close friend. Like most people at Central, I come from a different denomination, yet the spirit is the same and I am always glad I came. On my last visit, I brought my smart, kind, and loving goddaughter who recently graduated from an Ivy League university and was being prayerful about a career interest very different from her degree in engineering. For weeks, we had been church hopping, listening to different sermons, learning about different ministries, and enjoying the diversity of church experiences. Our visit to Central did not disappoint, being there that day was blessing.
The service is unique in many ways, appealing and meaningful to a young person with their entire world ahead of them as well as to people in the congregation just back on their feet after a major loss. At the end, my goddaughter told us that she could hardly keep from tearing up throughout the entire service. As one of the primary supporters of her faith development, it was moving to see how touched she was by the service at Central.
This was also the Sunday when the pastor made the announcement that the purchase of the dorm from UTMB was final and the process of transforming it into transitional housing was underway. After the service, my close friend, goddaughter, and I were compelled to go and see the property. It was beautiful and the answer to so much suffering. Before leaving, we put our hands on the building and prayed together for all that God will create and do in that space. It was a good day.
2/20/23
Safety
By Rick
When I first started volunteering at Central on Tuesday/Thursday mornings, I was struck by how many of our guests were asleep. The stuffed chairs in the back of the dining room are prized spots, and there are always many more guests sleeping on the couch, chairs, or floor of the computer room than there are using the computers. They wake up when lunch is served, or if they have signed up for showers and/or laundry services, I’ll wake them when their turn comes. But many of them go right back to sleep after they eat or shower.
The reason for this pervasive sleep deprivation is that sleeping on the streets or the beach is just not safe. You need to sleep with “one eye open,” ready to respond to threats to your person or property. Even sleeping in your car, if you have one, is not conducive to restful sleep. In addition to the obvious lack of comfort and climate control and the possibility of being attacked, you have to stay ready for “the knock,” - a police officer knocking on your window telling you that you can’t sleep there.
Sleep deprivation is only one of the problems of living your life without safety, and far from the worst. Constant, low-level fear wears you down, physically and mentally. You may not even notice the fear anymore, but it eats away at you, particularly if there is no way of getting away from it, no place where you are safe.
When I was twenty-four, I was deployed to Vietnam. I was in the best shape of my life, physically and mentally. A year later, when I returned to the U.S., that was no longer the case. I had been getting weirder the longer I was there, and didn’t even realize it, because everybody around me was as tightly wound as I was.
Luckily, the Army realized the importance of getting us out of the danger for a while, so we got in-country R&R in safe places and a week of out-of-country liberty in our choice of Hawaii or Australia or Hong Kong. Central can’t send our guests to Hawaii, but on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday mornings we do provide them a safe place to rest and recuperate.
From my point of view, it may be the most important thing we do.
2/13/13
Communion
By Dawn
Every Sunday I look forward to communion at Central. It is usually a bit of a messy affair. Because the sanctuary is filled with old couches and oversized chairs, the path to the front may not be straight. There is always a bit of awkward crossing in front of others, near collisions, and trying to stay reverent but really wanting to giggle moments! Getting to the body and blood of Christ may take a little work.
Sometimes, during the process, I look at people’s feet as they make their way to the front. We are such a diverse group of people with drastically different life experiences, different abilities, different gifts and talents that I see also reflected in the great diversity of our shoes-- new, old, worn out or designer, all in a slow march to the front. There is something about the gathering of such a diverse group of people for worship that is energizing. So much so that the call at the end of every service, to go off into the community and "be Central" feels completely doable.
2/6/23
The Weather
By Dawn
During the past two weeks at Central, you could feel the added weariness and weight of the cold weather on our unsheltered partners. Being wet and very cold is a terrible combination. I heard words of despair more than usual last Thursday during our social service and clinic hours. A tearful, “I can’t take much more”, by a person in their 60’s that I have come to cherish was particularly painful. I learned about the difficulties of staying warm in a “camp,” and a bit about the challenges of keeping a car’s heater going while rationing gas. Returning afterwards to my warm and safe house felt cruel and unfair.
Since coming to Central, I pay attention to the world around me differently. I look closely at the person with an oversized backpack walking or cycling down the street, or the person sleeping on the beach —I might know them! We may share meals together during the week at Central, or worship and take communion together on Sundays. In this closeness and community, I am attuned differently. More sensitive everywhere I go to people surviving without shelter. I don’t know if what little I can do is ever going to change the great injustices that lead to homelessness, and that is okay. I’ll keep trying anyway. I do know that in our community at Central, I have been changed. I am more tearful and sensitive because my heart is expanding. I see the world through a different lens, and I wonder if this kind of change is what it means in the scriptures to be born again. Not something otherworldly or philosophical—but something possible right here, right now in our own loving community. I hope so.
1/30/23
The Beginning
by Dawn
Part of our worship at Central includes the opportunity to create and share community with people that arrive on Tuesdays and Thursdays—days when we share space and resources with the larger community. Most of the people that show up are unsheltered or otherwise unable to access the resources they need. Sometimes they are seeking the basic day-to-day needs that Central provides – a safe place to hang out, a meal, a shower, a washer and dryer, or maybe medical care that is freely available at Grace Clinic each Thursday (just up the stairs). Others may come for community, to lighten their load, to share for a few hours chronic concern, condition, or great loss. Some simply sleep wherever they find a spot. Stepping into our sanctuary and seeing a person peacefully sleeping on a couch or a pew after a precarious night breaks my heart wide open.
On these days at Central, I don’t really have a specific job. I might sit around and visit with the staff, or wash a few dishes for Beth, or fret about the lack of wash cloths with the person next up in line for a shower. Honestly, as a “newish” person, much of the time I’m not sure what to do, but that doesn’t matter. There is something happening here of greater importance than the state of my usefulness. If we believe the Good News, this community, where there are endless opportunities to have a caring encounter with another person, is the place of our salvation. And, while it looks like “we”, the good church people of Central, are helping “them”, the poor and downtrodden, it really hasn’t taken me long at all to realize that the very opposite is true. As much as I care and love, I am also loved and accepted. We are a community.
1/23/23
Introduction
by Dawn
Two years ago, when my husband and I started attending services at Central, we sat a few rows back. But after about a month, I found myself compelled to move closer. I could tell that something remarkable was happening, so forward we went! Every week now we sit on the very front row, waiting and watching to see what new work of the Gospel will arrive in our communion together.
At Central, we are a community made up of the poor and the prosperous, the safe and the weary, the suffering and the well, and somehow, this collection of people creates a portal to the divine. I hope to share in this newsletter segment exactly what happens here from the perspective not of a pastor or someone formally trained in theology, but of a parishioner, a participant, a simple witness to the beauty of this place.