The Center City Christian

As I said in my previous post, Allentown Part II, I first accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was homeless at the Allentown Rescue Mission. Because I was fretful over not being able to pay my credit card bills. But I didn’t stop there. I accepted every altar call at every service because I felt my sins could not be forgiven.

Was that similar to me dying to myself over and over again? What does the Bible say about dying to oneself? The best search that could come close is “crucifying the flesh”. The results brought Romans 6:6, Romans 8:13, and Colossians 3:5. But one verse in Galatians serves best to prove my point:

Galatians 2:20 NIV

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.

So if we accept Christ once, is that sufficient to receive eternal life? My pastor told me each time, but he appreciated the gesture. So if Romans 10:9-10 is a verbal, emotional (it involves the heart) and a spiritual declaration; gaining eternal life, is it the resulting seal of the Holy Spirit that guarantees eternal life?

Ephesians 1:13-14 NIV

And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.

Galatians 2:20 also suggests likewise. The rest is faith (Ephesians 3:17) and hope (Colossians 1:27).

An ode to prose.

A thought entered my mind on the bus (or maybe my ear) is my activity on Instagram Professional ruining my witness for Christ? My activity is connected to the blog. And I asked myself, is my behavior toward the small amount of women I am following disparaging? But then as I rolled through Allentown on the bus, a second thought entered my mind. I’m staying in Wescosville, but my alias is The Center City Christian (my blog has always been anonymous). And I began to reminisce about Allentown Part II (2013-2023).

My first dose of the streets (and Christianity) is when my lifestyle that I could no longer afford—I had been a long time member of my father’s entourage—forced me into homelessness. I was stranded out in Montana after a losing bout in Brooklyn, and decided to travel across the country by Greyhound to be homeless. Essentially, I came home (Allentown Part I [2003-2012]). The trip took 5 days and was chock full of delays. When I arrived at the Allentown Rescue Mission, which was conveniently right across the street from the bus station, the Rescue Mission warned me that I would not be taken in if I was coming down from heroin (I was exhausted).

I was an intake at the Gateway Center, which was a temporary shelter—10 days. I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior because I was fretful over not being able to pay my credit card bills. I was a heavy smoker and could not last without a cigarette through a nondenominational service. I would walk out and feel the level of disrespect in my bones, which was rare. I spoke to the Christian Living & Values Director about it, and he found no fault. But after I did it one more time, I demoted myself and went back down to the Gateway Center. That was cause for dismissal. And now I was really homeless. I found a place to sleep under an overhang; part of the abandoned building next door, mainly because it was dark and I wouldn’t be seen by anyone. I also found a Battle Buddy named John (I trusted the name) who missed his intake. He sat next to me and stood guard the entire night while I slept a few hours (I may have trusted John a little too much. I will never know). The next morning I had my interview with OVR (Occupational & Vocational Rehabilitation) and my caseworker couldn’t keep from letting me know that I wreaked like cigarettes, though he tried. I knew that the Dunkin’ Donuts had unsecured Wi-Fi and another bodega in American Plaza sold Jamaican beef patties and iced honey buns for $0.50.

I learned where I could do laundry without money. There was a church on Sixth Street that would let me wipe down the chairs with a Clorox wipe while my laundry was being washed and dried in the basement of the church. I learned the endless stops, routes of LANta bus at the different transportation centers. A missed pleasure—sitting in the second row of seats in the back left, staring out the window, with my favorite music—like time would stand still. Similar to the hum of the washers and dryers at a laundromat. I let people at the library use my laptop for a slice of pizza at the pizzeria on Hamilton St. I found Newport cigarettes on the street and was harassed by cops that Sunoco had called on me; for asking its customers for a lighter.

Then I called the HVHC representative at the VA who had me go to a shelter in Easton called Safe Harbor, so I could get a tuberculosis test in order to get into another shelter called Victory House in South Bethlehem. It took one week to get the results of the test and six months at Victory House to get an apartment in Northampton borough; which was a different type of streets—cement (home of the Atlas Cement Co.). I met my Pastors at Victory House and the East side Allentown location of their church and began my spiritual walk with Christ, first by accepting Jesus as my Lord and Savior, many, many times; over and over again (I did not feel I could be forgiven). Then, I arrived early to set up the chairs when we were located at the Ramada Hotel, and when I had to turn down graduate school because I lost my tuition reimbursement with OVR, I became Media Director. And then I began The Center City Christian—which prepared me to live on the streets first in Los Angeles, then New York City, Washington DC, and Boston.

Image by Mihai_Andritoiu via Shutterstock.com

Matthew 5:14-15 NIV

14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.

I named this website The Center City Christian because I went to a church in Allentown for seven years. And I’m riding on the bus through the city right now, appreciating how the code of the streets is just a little different. Like the encryption is unique—just on a smaller scale, like Little Apple to Big Apple. I see the old historic homes and wonder what they looked like in their heyday. That is what The Skilled Craftsperson Project was originally based on—revitalization. But I also like it the way it is now—that was a different time meant for a different generation.

The scientific method of one element combined with mined iron ore, I am not certain of. But the chief industry in Pennsylvania was steel. Bethlehem Steel in the Lehigh Valley rivaled by Andrew Carnegie’s U.S. Steel in Pittsburgh (PA had it cornered). In the 1990’s, the Clinton Administration introduced globilization. The theory was simple—maximize profit margin by lowering manufacturing cost—outsourcing overseas. The backdoor (both literally and figuratively) that nobody saw coming was that the industry would stay overseas. And the United States would slowly become a consumer society.

I moved to the Lehigh Valley in 2003. I heard the worst of the city’s depression was in the late 1990’s (a few years earlier). I was also told the the economy began to exit in the 1980’s—perhaps a precursor to globilization. But the Lehigh Valley was my home then, and it feels like home once again. I attached some photos walking around Levitt Pavilion—a fun hangout spot to get a drink and watch a concert during the summer months—an attraction which was built around the strongest Bethlehem Steel buildings.