Something to bring to the table

by Ruby Gentiles

​Hi all! My name is Ruby, and I am so grateful to be spending a summer in Asheville as an AYM intern. As I’ve experienced AYM’s partner worksites over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know the communities in those spaces. One theme I’ve reflected on this summer is welcome. Each week, I present a morning devotion on Matthew 10, verses 40-42 (NRSVA) which demonstrates Jesus’ teachings on welcoming. It reads, 40 “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 41 Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous, 42 and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

In this passage, Jesus tells his disciples that when we welcome folks in, we welcome everything they represent – their experiences, emotions, wisdom, and perspectives. During our morning devotion, I often invite the group to consider the reward mentioned by Jesus in this passage. Throughout the summer, youth have shared that their reward could be making a new friend, discovering something in common, hearing a cool story, or understanding a new perspective.

I’ve certainly come to understand countless new perspectives at our partner agencies. I’ve realized that at our worksites, our groups, myself included, are usually the outsiders. We are the foreign ones stepping into a room of established connections. I’ve witnessed the deep-rooted communities of people who are often seen as being on the outskirts of society. I’ve been challenged to reframe my self-centered thinking about mission work, that I’m the hero by taking the time to get to know others who are “less fortunate.”

Instead, I’ve witnessed this misconception flipped on its head at 12 Baskets, a community cafe which serves rescued food to folks from all different walks of life. Every day begins by writing stereotypes on a whiteboard that we often associate with people experiencing homelessness or extreme poverty. Every week, without fail, some version of “no family/friends” or “burned all their bridges” is written. Prior to my work this summer, I believed in that stereotype. I assumed that when people were on the streets, it meant that they had no community or no one to support them. While it is true that people in poverty are not getting the support they need, that doesn’t mean they don’t have important relationships and friendships in their lives. Two weeks ago at 12 Baskets, I saw a table of four or five men eating together, chatting and laughing the whole time. I sat down next to Trevor, who told me all about his friends who have been a source of light for him. He said their “good energy” is valuable and provides him a safe space to exist amidst the hardships of living outside.

Similarly, at Haywood Street Congregation, community is spectacularly visible. One of the friends I’ve made there is Peter, who has been attending since he was 14, back when Haywood Street was a different kind of United Methodist worshipping community. He knows almost everyone that walks onto Haywood Street’s campus, and he is always the first to thank our groups for coming and tell us how much our work means to the folks who are there regularly. A sign of his longevity and commitment to the community is that he is painted in the Fresco, Haywood Street’s incredible mural built into their sanctuary wall that serves as the backdrop to worship.

Haywood Street intentionally blurs the lines between who is serving and who is served. They believe, as I do, that everyone has something to bring to the table. Haywood Street’s goal is not to solve poverty, homelessness, or hunger. Instead, it is to be in community – one of their core values is “relationship, above all else.” In fact, volunteers are lovingly called “companions.” At many worksites, including Haywood Street, the most valuable thing you can do is to sit down and have a conversation with a neighbor who is unlike you.

Ultimately, my time in Asheville working with unsheltered and impoverished folks has shown me how rich and fulfilling their communities are. I’ve noticed that the people I’d expect to be the least welcoming, those in poverty who have every right to be frustrated and angry at their communities, are often the most welcoming. I’ve also learned that my role, and the role of groups who come to AYM, is to integrate into and enhance their communities, not to invalidate or negate them. I have seen how God puts others in everyone’s lives, reminding us to trust in one another and build up our own communities. We are bettered when we welcome others in, especially those who are different from us.