Six weeks into my fellowship, common cathedral’s service in the Boston Common moved from feeling like a place to learn and witness to feeling like my church home.
I experienced this shift on a beautiful October morning. As I walked up onto the grass berm behind the park benches, I felt like I was walking into a sacred circle. This corner of the park was now holy ground. I no longer needed a bulletin—I knew the routine—and that freedom allowed me to hear the words and speak the prayers I had memorized from the heart:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
The serenity prayer, which I heard week after week, was no longer just for my unhoused friends, but it was for me. It was the confession and prayer I needed to hear after a particularly challenging morning.
Jesus said, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you a rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
This promise from Matthew (11:28-30) at the beginning of Eucharist that Jesus’ yoke is easy and his burden is light was not just heard in light of the people in deep suffering around me. It was also a reminder for me and the heavy burden I was carrying. It was liberating. This verse kept coming up all around me, and I believed the Spirit was behind that. How many times does it take hearing something for it to be cemented into your soul? For its promise to run through your veins?
Holy and life-giving God, sustain us and all people we hold in prayer, by Christ's presence; help us to know the healing power of Christ's love. Empty us of all things that keep us from experiencing your healing. From pain and burdens too great to bear, from guilt and shame, from fearful memories and fear of the future, from addictions, from pride, greed, resentment, and bitterness, from lying and pretense, and from the depths of despair..... Healing Spirit set us free.
The prayer at the end of Eucharist was a prayer of freedom, not just in light of the struggles of the street, but in my own life. In my struggling relationships, in my own time without a home during this transitional season, in my moments of deep despair. This Meal was healing me. This Spirit was setting me free.
The first couple of weeks in Boston, I had the desire to go to indoor church. I wanted to “go to church for me” and enjoy the liturgy and hymns and gorgeous New England sanctuaries that were familiar to me. I had a couple conversations with street ministers about this longing, too. Rev Lisa told me that she initially worried about finding time to go to her home church, but now she doesn’t worry about it. She doesn’t have that need anymore, because
…drum roll please…
street church is church.
And I’ve known that all along, right. That’s why I’m doing this fellowship in the first place—to deepen my own theology and conviction behind that statement.
But that beautiful Sunday in the park, I felt it. That morning, street church was for me, too.
It was the place I could go and not be all put together, free to wear my suffering and brokenness on my sleeve alongside those who have nothing to prove to the world.
It was the place where these repeated prayers weren’t only for this community I was coming to know and love dearly, but they were also for me when I was feeling just as broken and falling apart.
It was the place where I had a seat at the table, no questions asked.
I was no longer showing up to this corner of the park to observe or learn or witness.
Now I was showing up because it felt like home.
⛪︎
These reflections, experiences, and dedicated time for writing is thanks to the generosity of The Reverend Janet Karvonen-Montgomery Preaching Fellowship from Luther Seminary. You can learn more about Rev Janet and the Fellowship here.
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Jenna, you are a gift to the world!
Thank you for sharing your blog with us. We think of you and send our prayers.