The last six months I’ve spent my Wednesday nights in the
blessed company of the street community of Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood.
A profound 6 months it’s been as I’ve experienced their free love and
acceptance of me, white-wealthy(by their standards!)-farm boy from rural
Indiana.
Although the issue’s are apparent- addiction, mental
illness, paranoia, sexual confusion, etc., etc., they beautifully band together
as one of the most loving expressions of community I’ve ever had the
privilege of experiencing. Interdependence often takes precedent over
independence as they point each other in the direction of food and clothing.
When someone moves on to the next world, they grieve and celebrate the value of
that life and they do it together as a community.
I can’t help but compare and contrast that ultra messy yet beautiful inner city expression of community with what we typically experience
in our faith communities in the more externally ordered parts of the city.
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