SPIRIT S A I N T S T E P H E N ’ S E P I S C O PA L C H U R C H
PENTECOST
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Divine intervention
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n the midst of a summer full of troubling headlines, a story appeared in the New York Times about a humble man who had just died at the age of 83. Ben Wichmann had lived alone in a tiny, single-room-occupancy apartment above a hamburger restaurant at 74th Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan. His rent was $10/day, he just eked by on Social Security, and he owned almost nothing. A medical procedure had rendered him unable to speak, so Ben had By Gary D. Jones to communicate by scribbling notes on scraps of paper. But although Ben was alone, penniless, and mute, he spread kindness and generosity throughout his neighborhood wherever he went, and he never lacked for friends. Ben had plenty of reasons to be unhappy in a city where so many have so much. But people who knew him said he was unreservedly happy, radiating cheer. He was often seen bending down to pick up litter as he tidied the neighborhood, he delighted in petting people’s dogs, and he luxuriated in the city’s flowers. “He charmed people,” one man said. “He always smiled. He never complained. He was just wonderful.” Late one night, the doorman who had the midnight shift at a nearby apartment building was watching Ben picking up litter, when Ben caught his eye and waved. The doorman responded, “How are you?” Ben was clutching his scraps of paper and scratched out a few words, “Hi, my name is Bernhardt but call me Ben. I can’t talk, but I can hear.” And thus began a friendship. The doorman was Hispanic with only rudimentary English which was why he was consigned to the midnight shift, and Ben undertook to tutor him. If the doorman mispronounced a word, Ben would scribble out how to say it, which syllables to emphasize, and what words rhymed with it. When the doorman’s English improved, he got promoted to the day shift. The New York Times said Ben Wichmann’s life was an important New York story, “because he didn’t have a lot and yet he gave a lot…. The city can be cold and aloof, and you can live crunched amid its population and remain lonely and overlooked.” What Ben gave to others is what ended up radiating from the people around him – kindness, generosity, and a newfound determination to make the world a better place. It’s hard for me to conjure a better image for the role of a church like St. Stephen’s: a gentle man who lived alone in a tiny apartment among busy, wealthy and anxious people; a man who delighted in beauty and spent his days tidying and magnifying that beauty; a man who befriended everyone he met and paid special
attention to the poor; a man who had almost nothing and yet smiled constantly, as if he had everything – it’s just like God to use such a life to show us the way. And I think you’ll find this way, this truth, and this life reflected throughout this edition of our quarterly newsletter, which describes a new year of gracious ministries. Please join in wherever you feel drawn. Surely the headlines today remind us why so many people are feeling anxious. Our world can seem cold, harsh, threatening, and out of control. What is it going to take to heal our world? Where are our moorings? Where are our reassuring anchors? Many of us look to Jesus for the answer to questions like these, as we should, and he faithfully reminds us, “As the Father sent me, so now I send you.” It turns out that we are God’s answer. Not the president, the congress, the military. Given the magnitude of the problem, we understandably look for divine intervention, only to be reminded that God has chosen ordinary, human agency for such intervention, with a preference, it seems, for humble folk of modest means. We might question God’s strategy on this one. It might not seem like a very effective way to deal with the major problems facing the world. Certainly most of us feel as if we simply do not have the power or resources to handle this one. And that’s usually when a person like Ben Wichmann comes along and says something like, “I know the need is tremendous, even overwhelming. But here,” he says, smiling, “I have five loaves and two fish.” ✤
In this issue:
Pilgrimage: a journey into the unexpected Exciting plans in Family Ministry Poetry series debuts Do volunteers really make a difference? A stellar line-up of speakers The 2016-17 calendar New groups and Bible studies Summer at St. Stephen’s: a scrapbook The gifts of musical expression Music Makers, Round Two Rally Day is now Rally Days
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