I grew up around art and a few artists. I looked to people who had a reverence for the world at large. A natural contemplative awareness developed, as in many children before it is covered over. Call it awe, which Abraham Heschel describes as an “intuition for the dignity of all things, a realization that things not only are what they are but also stand, however remotely, for something supreme.” No wonder I became both a photographer and an Episcopal deacon.
One day, a soup-kitchen guest named what was happening: church, a worshiping community distinct from the larger congregation.
Imagine you're walking through a big city and you see a homeless person. You have several options.
Hugh Hollowell didn't start Love Wins to convert souls or sober up addicts. He wanted to provide pastoral care to homeless people.
I once nailed the doors of my church shut. I needed to keep a burglar out who'd been looking for something to huff. Still, it seemed so antigospel.
The opportunity arose for our church to host a group of homeless people. We anticipated that people might threaten to leave if we went through with it. We weren't prepared, however, for the newly baptized Kathryn.