As I sit and reflect on the time I’ve spent at Sanctuary here in Toronto, my mind conjures up a host of images and experiences. But the underlying theme that unites them all is the community found here!

Now don’t get me wrong, the Sanctuary community doesn’t mean a bunch of people are standing around a campfire singing Kumbaya. The nature of the community means that things can get messy at times. The problems that plague some “friends from the street” mean that nerves are often on edge, tensions can run high and arguments can get heated. You never know what the day may bring, and new challenges always arise.

Toronto, like any other city, contains a variety of people living on the margins. It's up to us, who claim Christ, to shed light in those lives.

But I also see the ways staffers approach their friends from the street. They foster community through a host of intentional means.

They purposefully don’t put many signs up in the place, as you might find in most public places. They want people talking to staff and each other, seeking information from people, not signs.

They serve food “family style” so that people must talk to their neighbor, asking for items and passing the plates of food. They want their friends working in the kitchen and serving the food. There is dignity in the activity. They even sing Happy Birthday once a month to all who have an upcoming birthday. This is dignity.

They go on weekly “outreach walks,” where seasonal supplies are handed out to folks they find on the streets and in the alleys. The items aren’t why they do it however, the people and the ongoing relationships are.

Whether I was at the Christmas concert or otherwise, I got a taste of the new model of the Church community...or better yet, a renewed model.

Even during their weekly staff meeting, they always partake in communion and underscore the collective effort shared by all. And that effort is recognized by those they serve.

“This place is so different from the others,” I overheard a woman tell another. “They don’t treat you like you’re below them. They treat you like a real person.”

“This place isn’t all stuffy,” said another man at another time. “You don’t have to have your ass-puckered up to go inside the place. It’s really different. I mean, no offense to them, but when I first came, I didn’t even know it was a church!”

Another man made a similar statement, even if he didn’t use words. During two different Sunday-night services, he was passed out just inside the doorway of the main sanctuary. Periodically, throughout each service, you could hear him snorting and grunting amid his deep slumber. But nobody seemed to care, and it was a wonderful thing.

“He’s adding to the service, whether he knows it or not,” said one of the staffers. “He’s contributing to the community.”

Wow. This is Sanctuary. And what a blessing it’s been to have the opportunity to spend time with these folks!

While many in the Church prefer to think of the body of Christ as being composed of a bunch of well-manicured fingers and pearly-white smiles, the fact is, it has many different parts. And Sanctuary treasures them all.

A Motley Crew

There were clean faces and dirty, combed hair and disheveled. There were designer clothes and tattered. This…this is the body of Christ.

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That’s God, That’s God, That’s God – Part I

By all accounts, Patrick should be dead. But the fact that he’s sitting here tells a different story.

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That’s God, That’s God, That’s God – Part II

There’s something special about being embraced and loved by a whole bunch of messy people.

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Camping in the Concrete Jungle

There’s no place like home… and this ain’t it.

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Photo Gallery: Community is at the Core

Day in and day out, week in and week out, Sanctuary is providing a variety of programs and activities focused on the heart of their mission…community. But it’s not just any community. Its essence is found in those overlooked by most. Many of its community members, those “friends from the street,” are living in the [...]

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Once a Stranger, Now a Brother

I was humbled and inspired by the prayer of this earnest stranger.

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Kingdom of the Broken

I’m not worthy, as I’m haunted by my own brokenness. But therein lies the blessing.

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Day in and day out, week in and week out, Sanctuary is providing a variety of programs and activities focused on the heart of their mission…community. But it’s not just any community. Its essence is found in those overlooked by most. Many of its community members, those “friends from the street,” are living in the margins of society more often than not.

But the staff members at Sanctuary don’t take an “us-and-them” approach. It’s not arms-length, but rather arm-in-arm. In obvious ways and in subtle, they do all they can to foster both community and relationships with all who walk through the doors.

Many of those intentional efforts are focused on providing a place where folks can experience a sense of normalcy, where inherent dignity is valued, where abilities are nurtured and where people can come to experience reprieve from the normal stresses that may dominate their lives.

Community defines the dynamic at Sanctuary, and the place truly serves as a refuge for the folks who call it home.

Tears welled up in my eyes as the song continued to play. My throat tightened up, and I had to stop singing.

The Spirit is clearly here. It’s palpable, and I’ve been long overdue for nourishment of this kind. All around me, people belted out the old hymn, How Great Thou Art…the familiar melody echoing off the walls and raised ceiling of this simple, rectangular sanctuary.

People mingle about before the start of a Sunday night church service. All the chairs face inward, toward the simple communion table found in the middle. The band is nestled in the back of the room.

I know they aren’t always popular in “contemporary” churches these days, but I’m a huge fan of the old hymns so rarely heard nowadays. They contain spiritual meat often lacking in many of the modern tunes I hear. And the emotions they evoke cut through the layers, straight to my soul.

The configuration of seats at Sanctuary is such that all the chairs face inward, toward the small, understated communion table set up in the center of the room for each Sunday night service.

Wayne is new to Sanctuary also, but this didn’t stop him from inviting me to hand out food with him the following night, or to play a little 8-ball later that week.

As the song kept playing, I looked around at the faces of this motley congregation, and my heart nearly burst. This…this is the body of Christ. There were clean faces and dirty, combed hair and disheveled. There were designer clothes and tattered. And nearly every color of the ethnic rainbow comprised the congregation of 90 or so. But we all worshiped as one body, including the two canines in attendance…a medium-sized hound dog mix and a tiny, yap-happy terrier.

Next to me sat Wayne, an older guy with blonde hair, broad shoulders and a thick build, though he “used to be a lot bigger.” In another time and place, he’d no doubt be manning the helm of a Viking ship.

As soon as I sat down next to him, he started chatting me up, asking me about my story, telling me about his. And by night’s end, he invited me to meet him the following evening to hand out food with Bread of Life ministry in “probably the worst intersection in Toronto…filled with drug addicts and gangs.” I wholeheartedly agreed.

Rediscovering True Community

I’m here in Canada for a month, hanging out at Sanctuary, a church established by Greg Paul about 18 years ago. His heart is for the disenfranchised, whether they’re the homeless, the addicts, the prostitutes, the GLBT (gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender) community or any other combination. Sanctuary is a come-as-you-are type of place, and everyone, and I do mean everyone, is welcome.

That said, you never know who’s going to walk through the old wooden doors of the place.

I didn’t catch his name, but French was clearly his native language. His clothes were dirty, as was his face, and he was bundled up in multiple layers to combat the dropping temperatures outside.

We had started into the singing long before he came walking into the sanctuary. Initially, he stood just inside the door for awhile, but he could hold his tongue no longer, despite the service that was well underway.

Sanctuary is nestled between tall apartment buildings on nearly every side. The church building may be diminutive, but the ministry is powerful. If you look closely, you can see their official sign scrawled in red letters.

“This guy!” he muttered loudly in his thick accent, further compounded by the slur produced by whatever substance was coursing through his bloodstream. “This guy, Greg Paul! I love this guy!”

The man knew he was interrupting, but he didn’t care. He wanted to express himself, and his love for this man who has become Jesus’ hands and feet in the midst of an impoverished subculture here in Toronto.

He wrapped his arms around Greg, who was still sitting at the keyboard as part of the church band. Then he leaned over and gently kissed Greg on the top of the head in a sign of genuine affection.

He went around, kissed a couple more familiar faces and finally knew his time was up.

“Sorry about my accent!” he hollered on his way out the door, which was met with a few chuckles from the congregation.

Open Doors and Open Arms

I liked the guy already. And I liked Sanctuary too…a Christian community unfazed by such impulsive encounters. If this is the way they roll, then surprises lie around every corner, which is just how I like it.

But more importantly, this initial encounter seems to capture the essence of the place, where all are received as members of the Sanctuary community. Arms are opened wide in welcome, and heads are readily available to accept moist lip-prints, even if an odor of alcohol accompanies those lips.

Love is here, and it’s clearly two-sided.

After driving six hours round trip around Haiti in order to retrieve a box truck full of items for Nehemiah Vision Ministries, we got stuck—badly stuck. A truck full of items ranging from bunk beds to dental chairs that would all benefit the village of Chambrun, the community NVM serves, bottomed out in a ditch only 200 yards short of the finish line.  The school was literally a stone’s throw away.

How in the world were we going to get the truck un-stuck?

The truck stuck in a ditch. (Click to see a larger version of the panorama)

What we saw amazed us. First, all the kids from the tiny village of Chambrun came out to greet us and we quickly became friends with them, despite a language barrier. About forty people from Chambrun emerged from all over to help.

They cleared dirt with shovels. They got dirt on their hands and knees trying to dig out the back end of the truck. They found wood to wedge under the tractionless left front tire. They pushed and pushed. And pushed.  This truck wasn’t going anywhere.

The sun quickly dipped below the cactus-dotted horizon and it soon became dark. We used headlights from Pastor Pierre’s SUV to illuminate the problem.

For four hours, everyone worked together to get the truck moving again. Eventually, after a dozen attempts (and the help of a backhoe), all the pushing paid off. The whole community celebrated with shouts and dancing as the truck finally lurched free from the clutches of immobility.

The whole community came out to help!

What struck me about the whole situation that unfolded was how quickly everyone chipped in and rallied together. They knew the contents of this truck would provide practical help and a little bit of justice for the whole community, not just a select few, and everyone stayed until the job was done.

It reminded me of the first church described in Acts 2, where the general statement of unity probably read something like “we’re all in for each other, whatever it takes”.

This image of people coming together for the sake of a greater purpose makes me want to somehow capture this moment and bring it back to the U.S., where we may not even lift one finger to help our next door neighbor, who we don’t even know.

We may have been stuck in a rut for four hours, but I saw what true community looks like.  And it was awesome!