Thanksgiving at a Liberal Island in a Conservative Sea

So, I’m not spending Thanksgiving alone. I’m still sick, but I’m venturing out of the motel room, even though the sun feels like it’s putting splinters in my eyes.

I found the only church offering a Thanksgiving meal for the public and the needy in Marina, California – Epiphany Lutheran and Episcopal Church:

For three hours in the afternoon, this tiny church opened its doors to anyone who wanted a hot meal, and boy, was there a lot of food. Trays full of steaming turkey, bowls heaping over with salad, and some cranberry-orange mixture I didn’t really care for.

The meal was co-sponsored by the church, John XXIII HIV/AIDS Services, and Episcopal Senior Communities. Everyone was there. There were homeless people, elderly couples who didn’t want to cook for themselves, immigrant families, people who seemed alone, and lots of joyful people just happy to help out:

I filled a plate with vegetarian options and took a seat with a stoic elderly man, his jubilant Korean wife, Joy, and her friend, who didn’t speak much English. Joy and I spoke about the status of journalism in the world, which she seemed to adore. She thanked me for every journalistic article she ever read, even on topics I have never written about and tons of articles I had nothing to do with. “I just keep learning such fascinating things!” she exclaimed. It was though I was the omniscient, omnipresent journalist responsible for everything right in news endeavors. I blushed, not knowing what to say. (I don’t think she’d ever read anything I’ve written.)

Toward the end of the dinner, the priest took the stage and started giving out gift certificates and prizes in a raffle. His assistant was obviously excited:

He came over to speak with me soon after, but before he could get to me, he was cornered by Joy and her entourage as they left. She thanked him, almost on the verge of tears. I couldn’t hear most of what she was saying, but I did hear her say how special it was for her to be with all of these people. Her husband looked like his age was severely affecting his mobility, and they didn’t get out very often. And, judging by their absence of family on Thanksgiving, I bet they would have been alone were it not for this meal.

Finally, the priest, Father Jon Perez,made it to me, and we had a long talk. It turns out this small church of about 40 members has gone through a lot of changes in the past decade, mostly at his behest, and Perez had a lot to talk about with me.

Perez came to the church twelve years ago, in the middle of his ordination process. At the time, there were only five members left in the Lutheran church, older women who came every Sunday, and wanted nothing to change. The parking lot was full of trash and drug dealers, the pews were falling apart, and it looked like the church was going to fall apart. “At least once a week, someone would call me to see if the church was for sale,” says Perez. “It was hideous.”

With a mandate from the Lutheran leadership to turn the church around, Perez set out to change things. Marina is a very conservative town and Perez, an openly gay priest, set out to make it a liberal bastion. He repainted the church, got permission from his ELCA synod for dual affiliation with the Episcopal Church, and put the congregation on the path to social work.

Growing up near here, in Carmel, Perez said he felt it was his duty to reach out to the downtrodden in Marina. A poor neighborhood with a strong sense of community but few resources, Marina is battling a large problem with drugs, HIV, and many other social ills. In fact, it has been estimated that one in four households in Marina is affected by drug use, mainly methamphetamine. “This city is comparable to the Tenderloin district of San Francisco, but without all the services that the city offers,” says Perez. “Before this church, there was almost nowhere for people in need to go. I opened up this church to make it inclusive, to let them know they had people who care about them.”

Perez started organizing food pantries, drug rehabilitation services, community counseling, homeless care, and many other outreach programs. What he couldn’t do in the church, he partnered with and bolstered local organizations. And he made a specific attempt to reach out to the gay community. The first Thanksgiving meal here was actually held in 2000, for people with HIV/AIDS and who needed a friend.

Of course, the five ladies weren’t happy with that. They liked the old church with its conservative values, despite its physical flaws. Three of the ladies passed away, and the other two left. (Although Perez says one of them often pops back in, just to see how things are going.) But other people were joining, and soon he was their priest. “I proved to them it wasn’t about me; it was about the community,” he says.

The ladies’ reluctance frustrated Perez, however. “So many churches forget the Gospels,” he says. “They spend so much time focusing on Leviticus and Paul that they forget the teachings of Jesus. Jesus was for everyone, but they make it seem like he’s elitist. Hell and damnation draw people in out of fear. Grace is a hard sell.”

Epiphany is now the largest social service provider in Marina, and the third largest one in Monterey County. Rather than have a secretary to help with church organization, Perez hired a social worker. He has to work seven days a week, being pulled in many directions for his projects, in addition to Bible study, Sunday sermons, and all of the other standard priestly duties. And it shows. He has bags under his eyes, and gesticulates like a man with too many things on his mind. He looked like a man who’d been stuck on a Greyhound bus for three days, and still hasn’t reached his generation.

But he’s tireless. His recent project has been fighting Proposition 8, the referendum that passed this month banning same-sex marriage in California. His church has been somewhat in the spotlight because of it, and Perez says he gets a lot of flak. “A lot of people come in here for our services and then lecture me about my teachings. They say I shouldn’t be welcoming to gays, and challenge my morality. But the church’s openness to gays comes from the same Biblical teachings that promote the services they’re taking advantage of. None of the other churches are doing what this church does. People in need come here for their necessities and go to other churches for the sermons. If the other churches are truly following God, how come they can’t even serve their own people?”

I don’t know the answer to that, but it’s certainly a powerful question to think about.