My Journey to CITC

My journey to Christ in the City has been a four-year adventure: one of purifying the way I encounter suffering, deepening my capacity for love of both friend and stranger, and strengthening the courage to be with those overwhelmed by their suffering. 

I first heard about the program from a co-worker named Anthony. Anthony is someone that makes you reconsider everything around you, someone that has a humble radiance of joy that makes you think the world must be a good place because people like this live in it. 

He had done a summer of service with Christ in the City the year prior, and spoke of the program with deep admiration. I thought, if someone like him was shaped by Christ in the City, then that is where I want to be.

I looked into Christ in the City and found that they have a podcast called Homeless but Human. I listened to a couple of their episodes and was enthralled by the descriptions of friendship, community, and volunteerism. I marvelled at the musings of what relationship could be: relationship within one’s self and with others. The episodes filled me with a new appreciation and wonder for human dignity. 

I think wonder is one of the most beautiful things a person can have. It leads us to consider joyfully even the smallest, simplest things. As a wise hobbit once wrote, “For still there are so many things that I have never seen: in every wood, in every spring, there is a different green”. 

As time pressed on, I wanted to be more involved with the mission of Christ in the City. I could not do a summer of service because of timeline conflicts with my school and employment. Instead, I explored how to integrate pillars of Christ in the City’s mission into my own life. I began to volunteer weekly at a local homeless shelter. I started keeping water and granola bars in my car for when I passed people on the street. I grappled with my introvert instincts and endeavored to be more open to daily, intentional conversation.  

I began to notice and reflect on the fact that most of us spend time wearing a metaphorical mask, a luxury that hides our insecurities and vulnerabilities. We often hide how we feel. We clench our grip and push through hard times. For better or for worse, we fake it until we make it. I began to recognize that our brothers and sisters on the streets don’t have this luxury. It made the experience of talking with them all the more beautiful. More so than in any other daily interaction I was having, when I encountered people experiencing homelessness, I glimpsed an unfamiliar depth of humanity. 

That repeated experience was a gift, which paralleled my encounters with students. It was this lack of pretense which originally drew me to teaching. I started to desire more than the fleeting interactions at the shelter or out of my car window at a stoplight. I wanted the freedom to dive deeper into conversation and have the opportunity for real relationships to grow.

At this point, I applied for a year of missionary work. I was not sure, going into the interview weekend, if I would actually accept a position. I was loving teaching more than I could have ever imagined. It was testing me and rewarding me in incredible ways. Still, there was a pull on my heart for something more. I hoped I would discover what that was during my visit.

The interview “weekend” with Christ in the City was really four days. During that time, I went on two street walks with the missionaries: one for five hours midday and the other for three hours in the evening. It was, truly, one of the most life-changing experiences I’ve ever had. 

I’m not much of a city person, so being in the heart of Philadelphia, to begin with, was outside of my comfort zone. What I couldn’t have foreseen, was how quickly talking to people on the street would feel natural and comfortable. I was coming from a college campus where it can often be a battle to simply meet someone’s gaze and exchange a smile, nevermind strike up a conversation. With the homeless, I found an eagerness for eye contact and a willingness to sustain it. The first couple we talked to smiled through the entire interaction. With another gentleman, I talked rapidly about the beauty of Maine and he responded with excitement to one day see Alaska! One lady proudly revealed a collection of blankets she had curated and shared the story of each one’s acquisition. Two younger men shared bike trick anecdotes. With another gentleman, we reminisced about Christmas carols. 

Some encounters were more somber. I saw a man huddled in a park, buried under two blankets. He shook softly and spoke even softer. We didn’t say much, but rather just sat beside him for a while. At another point, we crouched in the middle of a street where one man was sitting by a heating vent. As people flooded by on either side, I felt like we were in a sphere that had been cut out from reality. It was acutely jarring. I recognized that this was a daily reality for him. Still another moment led us to simply walk with an elderly lady who shuffled laboriously to a bookstore. She shared a bit about her life and the relationships that had faded. She was not homeless, but suffered nonetheless from deep loneliness. 

After the experience of those street walks, I knew that if I served with Christ in the City, it would change who I am irreparably. An environment like this is unique. I could do wonderful work in Maine, but it would not be the same. I wouldn’t grow the same, nor as much. 

I was scared, deeply scared, of what it was going to cost, but my desire for the person I could be on the other side was stronger than my worries. St. John of the Cross said, “Where there is no love, put love- and you will find love.” I had found a capacity for love on the street that I did not realize was possible. 

My journey to Christ in the City has been four years of growth and discovery; however, my journey with Christ in the City is only just about to begin. I deeply appreciate your willingness to read and engage with my story, and I hope you will support me on this journey.

Please pray for me, I will be praying for you! God Bless!