Bread of Life

For Laura who asked:

On our last day in Poznan, four members of our team had the opportunity to assist at the soup kitchen that ministers to the very poor and homeless population of Poznan. Richard Nungesser kindly gave us a brief history of the ministry. (Please ask me for details and also learn a bit more at the ministry web site http://breadoflife.pl/en/about.html) Already in awe of what God is doing with simple willingness, our team headed for the room where Holy Start serves those in need.
I confess to a certain trepidation at eating the food that was intended for those who would otherwise go without because my own belly is never empty for long. Shelley and I sat at a table with a precious grandmother named Danka and quiet young man named Sebastian (see photo). Neither would reach for the food that must have been so wanted and needed until Shelley and I each took a portion. We gestured for them to each take more of the bread smeared with cream cheese, and dotted with ketchup (more spicy than the sweet ketchup found in the U.S.) and chives. During the meal, I searched for a connection with the sweet lady seated beside me, but she remained aloof. (No surprise, Poles are warm and loving to those known, but we were total strangers.)
During our time with Danka, I responded to a guarded question she asked about my thoughts on Poland stating that I love Poland, Poles, and the Polish language. That brought a look of pure suspicion to her face. She asked why, if I loved Poland so much, was I leaving the next day? That caught me off guard, and my immediate response was an internal affirmation of her question; "Why indeed would I leave Poland?" I felt as if the air was forcefully squeezed from my lungs in a manner all-too-similar to the method one uses on a toothpaste tube to empty the very last of the contents as I realized that only hours remained before I would have to leave the country.
As I sat staring at her, it suddenly occured to me why I would leave, and I popped up from the table to retrieve my bag. I produced the photos of my family taken by our dear friends Jordan and Joanne shortly before leaving on the trip. Danka's entire demeanor shifted, and she lit up as she studied the images of my children. Erin particularly caught Danka's eye because she has a grandson the same age. Even as the connection was made, the conversation was brought to a halt as we paused to hear an announcement signaling the beginning of the teaching time.
Our friends Ron and Bill from the OPS team were giving testimony and sharing a bit of scripture that morning as the real focus for Holy Start. Bill's words carefully highlighted how he had cast aside guilt to receive the free gift of grace while Ron thrilled his listeners by choosing to speak in Polish to introduce himself. Ron received applause from the room for taking the time to speak in their native tongue.
Following the men's offerings, the recipients of the care provided by Bread of Life headed off to receive a shave, haircut, and the chance to clean up. The people trickled back into the room bit by bit. Shelley and I realized as we were talking to one another that the women in the room were leaning toward us. We invited them into our conversation realizing that as relational creatures, the silence of the room must have been deafening to them. Some took us up on the offer while others merely leaned toward us--- or kept a careful eye on us. (Crazy Americans!) Suddenly, one of the women drew me into a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek. I was shocked by this display of physical affection. (It just was not Polish!)
As I was passed from person to person giving and receiving hugs and the kiss to the cheek, I was humbled beyond anything I have ever known. I came excited about serving these who would be counted as least among men, and they showed me precisely who was being served. It is trite, but I will never be the same after having been met with the very image of Christ in that room. He who railed against the highest of religious society, would have gathered each and every one of those broken individuals into his arms.