Jesus was born in supportive housing

Is it too late for one last Christmas post?

Probably. But I wanted to share this one with you anyway.

As I’ve been building more connections here in Minneapolis, I was e-introduced to the Rev. Kirsten Fryer of Bethlehem Lutheran Church in the Midway. Bethlehem is part of Beacon Interfaith Housing Collaborative, an affordable and supportive housing developer and advocacy group that has it roots in faith communities coming together to provide housing for people experiencing homelessness. (You will hear much more about them from me at a later time.)

mockup of a Beacon project called The Aragon which Bethlehem is supporting: 53 new units of supportive housing in East St Paul

Rev. Kirsten wrote a message to her congregation about how they’ve navigated homelessness in their immediate neighborhood (the Midway in St. Paul), and she used an analogy that I found very profound.

It’s not a secret that it has not been an easy year in the Midway. We see the consequences of the intersecting and compounding issues of addiction and the housing crisis around us, sometimes literally on our front step. It would be easy to throw up our hands and give up hope.

But we do not lose hope. I commend you, dear people of Bethlehem, that you persist in hope, faith, courage, and compassion. That you keep saying yes to opening our building to our neighbors, providing meals through the work of Open Hands Midway, and providing a place to gather around important issues through the work of our Bethlehem Round Tables. That you meet people with kind words, with compassionate response. I know it is not always easy, but you keep doing it. You keep asking questions and taking seriously the ways God is calling you to show up. You think about what it means for you to see the image of God in one another. You use your Spirit-given gifts for the sake of the world around you. Your response gives me hope, and for that I am so incredibly grateful. Thank you.

As we move through Advent toward Christmas, we return once again to the story of Mary and Joseph, urgently trying to find a place for Mary to deliver the baby. As we look around and continue to listen for how God calls us to love and serve our neighbors, particularly those who are unhoused, hungry, and/or suffering from addiction, we remember this story. The humble beginnings of Jesus Christ, who, according to Luke’s Gospel, was wrapped in bands of cloth and laid in a manger “because there was no place for them in the inn.”

So often we tell this story as if Mary and Joseph were alone, with only the lowing cattle and the cooing dove to keep them company, until the shepherds “went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.” In his book, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes and an article in Presbyterian Outlook, however, Ken Bailey paints an entirely different story, pointing out that the Greek word kataluma, translated as “inn,” can also mean “guest room.”

Looking at the architecture of most homes in ancient Palestine, Bailey writes “Such buildings are ‘split-level’ homes. There is a small, lower level for the animals at one end. About 80 percent of the one room is a raised terrace on which the family cooks, eats and lives.” Further, “In such traditional homes, mangers are built into the floor of the raised terrace on which the family lives. If the cow or donkey is hungry at night, it can stand and reach the feed on the floor of the upper family living space (often about four feet higher than the level for the animals)….What is unknown to the Western reader is the fact that in a traditional Palestinian home, the mangers are in the living room.”

This means that Jesus was born in the living room. With the support of other people. Mary and Joseph were not alone to fend for themselves, but in fact surrounded by people who not only gave them a place to stay, but made sure they had what they needed, too. Jesus was born amidst supportive housing.

We stand on the shoulders of a whole lot of other people who have, over the centuries, done this work of figuring out how to love their neighbors, too. We give thanks for those who laid the groundwork here at our Bethlehem, putting down the roots that make our ministry possible. And, most of all, we continue to follow the one who was born in the supportive housing of that little town of Bethlehem, so long ago.

In Christ,

Pastor Kirsten

I really loved this reflection. I’m a big proponent of the supportive housing model, which combines the evidence-based intervention of housing with wrap-around supportive services. This is the gold standard for ending homelessness, especially for those who present multiple barriers and diagnoses that might prevent them from being successful in our merit-based private housing market.

And of course it works, because housing and support is what we all need. The homes we occupy and the community and resources that surround us contribute daily to our safety, health and wellbeing in ways we don’t even notice… that we wouldn’t even consider until we no longer had them.

Bethlehem Lutheran Church in the Midway embodies this commitment in many ways, including how they support the work of Beacon. There are so many ways to support supportive housing as individuals as churches. A great place to start is to find out who and where supportive housing exists already in your area and asking them what they need.

As we enter a year what is set to be a catastrophic year for our most vulnerable neighbors (more on this to come next week), we will need to remember the ways that supportive housing makes us all safer and more whole. It’s what brought Jesus into this world 2000 years ago, and I believe it’s what brings him into this world still today.

---

These posts will always be free.

But the rest of my work—traveling to speak and lead workshops, creating content, advocacy and direct aid—is enabled and expanded by your support. Consider becoming a Paid subscriber to enhance my reach.