Church in the Streets

In my life as a Street Pastor, there may be nothing more gratifying than the silent puzzling looks of teenagers when I tell them that I am not getting paid to wander around parks, shops, and housing estates, talking to anyone who happens to be out. Perhaps we have approached them looking for conversation, or they have approached us looking for the sweets we carry in our official Street Pastors knapsacks, but the line of questioning is almost invariable for those who have never encountered a Street Pastor.

What’s a Street Pastor? What do you do? Do you get paid? Then why do you do it? Are you like the police?

Last weekend I was out with a Street Pastors team in a large housing estate in Newtownabbey, having a conversation that followed almost exactly this template. We explained that we represent the churches in the area, and that we are there to care, listen, and help (the Street Pastors tagline). These particular kids were very young, not quite teenagers. As we spoke to them they sat shivering on a park bench, striving absurdly to defeat their boredom. Elsewhere in the park some older teens were enjoying a bonfire in the woods. We joked around with the kids, learned their names, and calmly counselled them not to push each other off the back of the bench. We urged them to have a good night and left the park.

As we walked along, I noticed a warning issued in spray-paint on the low wall marking the edge of the park: “PSNI stay out.” I would not say that I understand the dynamic between the Police Service of Northern Ireland and the loyalist-Protestant communities of Northern Ireland, but evidently a police officer is persona non grata in that particular park. It is safe to assume that some loyalist paramilitary had made claims on that territory.

But there were no restrictions on Street Pastors. In fact, Street Pastors have generally very little appreciation for boundaries and divisions. We do not identify as Protestants or Catholics, always defying the probing questions of the people we meet. We identify as Christian, and with no particular agenda we go anywhere and talk to anyone. We collaborate with PSNI but we work independently. Accordingly we don’t call them in every time we encounter underage drinking or smell marijuana. Street Pastors listen but don’t judge, offer help when appropriate, and to the best of our ability communicate the love of God to everyone they encounter.

We moved on from the park to a large open space in the midst of the rows of houses. In the center was a wide circular structure built mostly of tires, shipping palettes, and old furniture. On the evening of July 11, the residents of this overwhelmingly Protestant housing estate will set a light to the structure in celebration of their heritage, as they have for many years. I have of course never witnessed this celebration, but I know that attitudes towards the twelfth are very diverse. From enthusiasm to discomfort to terror, all I can say for sure is that the merriment is sometimes, sadly, mingled with sectarian aggression.

A bonfire site for the Twelfth of July. The bonfire is constructed months in advance.

 

So with interest I approached the tower, and the youths who were charged with guarding it until the men took over at midnight. From what I have heard, residents in some places post a 24-hour sentinel at their bonfire site, to avoid premature ignition; for the young guards it is a tremendous honor to be tasked with the protection of the bonfire. They occupied themselves with a broken TV and a small fire they put together in a shopping cart. As I spoke to them, and recalled what I had seen on the wall earlier, it occurred to me that Street Pastors has got it right. This is where the church belongs, on the interface. We move between the police and the paramilitaries. Between Protestants and Catholics. Between old residents and new citizens and immigrants. Even between the Church institution and the folks who feel disenchanted with or rejected by religion. The Church is never a spectator in conflict, but stands in its midst, inviting everyone into relationship, but also unafraid to be an advocate for those who are treated unjustly. On one occasion I literally stood between a police vehicle and a group of teens who felt threatened by the police presence. I will have only a few more outings as a Street Pastor, but this valuable ministry continues, stepping boldly across boundaries, the Church in the streets. Ultimately, we hope, the boundaries will be erased altogether.