The Men’s Drop-In Shelter at Grace, 1985-2020

I was asked to share a bit of the history of the shelter at Grace for Porchlight’s annual gala last evening. Here’s what I said:

                     The History of the Homeless Shelter at Grace

I would like to thank Karla Thennes for inviting me this evening to share a bit about the history of the Men’s Drop-In Shelter at Grace Episcopal Church. I became Rector (Senior Pastor) of Grace in 2009 and for much of my tenure the homeless shelter was an integral part of our identity and mission. Even now, when I introduce myself to long-time Madisonians, they are likely to mention the shelter and reminisce about volunteering there over the years. Though I’ve been at Grace and lived in Madison for more than fifteen years, I’m still considered by many to be a newcomer, and my presentation this evening will necessarily be heavily weighted toward my own memories and the events of the last decade and a half. I will also offer a warning before I begin. I am a trained historian so my account this evening will try to be objective, to paint the full picture, warts and all.

Still, it’s worth recalling how it all began. Those of us of a certain age may be able to remember back to the early 80s, to the era of Reagonomics. There had been a strong push toward deinstitutionalization of mentally ill people beginning in the Carter administration but the planned development of community-based mental health facilities never came to fruition. With the shrinking safety net under President Reagan, urban redevelopment that demolished rooming houses like the YMCA here in Madison, deinstitutionalization, cities across the country were seeing a dramatic rise in unhoused people, especially single men.

In Madison, Madison Area Urban Ministry (the forerunner of Just Dane) organized a temporary shelter ion University Ave in 1984. In 1985, the shelter relocated to Grace Church, where it remained until 2020. In the early years, it provided accommodation for both men and women. While there were paid staff, meals were provided by volunteers and volunteers also staffed the facility overnight. 

As demand for services grew, overflow shelter was provided at St. John’s Lutheran Church on East Washington Ave. and in the winter at First Methodist. In later years, intake took place at Grace, where evening meals and breakfast were provided for all guests. After dinner, groups would be accompanied to St. John’s and First Methodist where they would spend the night. By the 2010s, the shelter would open its doors at 5:00 pm in the winter, and later in the summer, closing after breakfast at 7:00 am. The line of guests waiting for entry on cold evenings was an uncomfortable reminder to passersby of the inadequate facilities and services on offer.

From time to time, there were efforts to move the shelter or to force its closure. City officials cited it for code violations in the 1990s which led to a renovation spearheaded by then Governor Tommy Thompson. An article in Isthmus in 2010 by Joe Tarr exposed a new generation to the challenges presented by the shelter. Entitled “Bleak House: Grace Episcopal’s Homeless Shelter is a Dispiriting Space” caught the eye of Epic employees and led to another major renovation of the facilities funded by Epic.

But there were things that no amount of renovation could fix. The space was in a church basement, inaccessible to mobility-challenged guests. It was much too small for the need. 48 beds with room on the floor for an additional twelve. In the winter, the total number of  guests often exceeded 150. There was limited space and funding to offer essential services like case management while the shelter was open. Medical care was provided by volunteer medical students two evenings a week. 

Another enormous challenge was the fact that the shelter was only open at night. Hospitals regularly discharged homeless patients directly to the shelter. Often they would be dropped off by taxis in the middle of the day when there was no one to receive them, in wheelchairs, on oxygen or with catheters. The same was true of the Dane County Jail and the state prison system.

In 2011 and 2012, the jerry-rigged system of providing for unhoused people during the day collapsed when the basement of the State Capitol was declared off-limits and the Central Library underwent renovations. After a couple of years of temporary day shelters, Dane County and Catholic Charities opened the Beacon on E. Washington Avenue, which helped to address that crucial lack of services.

Grace Church’s identity and mission had been intertwined with the shelter since the 1980s. When I came to Grace, there was enormous pride in the congregation that we were doing this important work, even if our efforts amounted mostly to serving as landlord for Porchlight which operated the shelter. In fact, as I did research for this presentation, I was surprised to discover that one of my predecessors as Rector at Grace, Bill Wiedrich, wrote in a report to the congregation in the late 80s that our involvement with the shelter amounted to little more than acting as landlord. Nonetheless, we received much of the praise and blame from the community for its presence on our property.

Still, I was moved by the extent to which Grace members embraced the shelter as an institution. They fiercely defended it against detractors and were often hesitant to admit to its shortcomings (as I personally learned in the wake of Joe Tarr’s article). More importantly, they welcomed guests to our services and programs. I was surprised by the compassion showed to guests who wandered into our 8:00 service on cold Sunday mornings and their efforts to connect guests with services.

Like many other congregations and community groups, over the years Grace provided regular meals to shelter guests. Early in my tenure, my wife had a vision for our monthly meal that would treat guests and other community members to a sit-down dinner with musical accompaniment. Out of that developed “First Mondays at Grace” which offered a scrumptious meal and musical entertainment ranging from Bluegrass to Opera. Guests would often linger at their tables long after finishing their meals to enjoy the music and sometimes sing along, and we had a dedicated team of volunteers who loved to help. Each December, members of the church choir would sing holiday songs and Santa would distribute warm winter socks to everyone in attendance.

By the late 2010s, it became clear to me and a number of Grace’s lay leaders that the shelter facilities had reached a point of non-viability. We gathered a small group of people to begin strategizing our options. It quickly became clear to us that while many in the community were aware of the inadequacy of Grace’s facilities, there was little political will to move forward with a new shelter. We were told flatly by city and county elected officials that unless we set a deadline for its departure, nothing would happen. My response was to say, “As long as I am rector of Grace, you will never see a headline in the paper: ‘Grace evicts homeless shelter’.”

As our work progressed, we contracted with Susan Schmitz, former President of Downtown Madison, Inc, to gauge interest in the community for a new men’s shelter. We formed a committee made up of community members, homeless advocates and providers, city and county staff to begin working on this difficult issue. Our first meeting was in November, 2019. 

Then came the pandemic, and on March 30, 2020, the shelter closed its doors at Grace for the last time, relocating first to Warner Park, then to what will become the Madison Public Market, now to Zeier Rd before its new facilities are completed. Not only did it leave empty space in our building; its departure left a hole in our identity and mission.

In spite of that, Grace’s commitment to unhoused members of our community remain. We continue to serve them, through our Food Pantry which has been open since 1979 and serves housed as well as unhoused populations. A year ago, Off the Square Club moved into the space vacated by the shelter. It serves mostly unhoused people with a clinical diagnosis of mental illness, providing all kinds of support including meals, laundry and shower facilities, assistance with job training and housing placement, and with medical issues. Ironically, our records indicate that Off the Square Club used space at Grace back in the 1970s.

         Even as memories of the Drop-In Shelter at Grace begin to fade, the need to provide shelter for our unhoused neighbors does not. With the deepening crisis of affordable housing in our city and growing uncertainty about the federal social safety net, it is likely that there will continue to be many people who live on the streets. And unlike 50 years ago we won’t be able to rely on congregations to address unmet needs as membership in religious organizations plummets and grows older. 

All that’s for another day to discuss. For now, let us remember and celebrate those visionary folk who saw the need and created the shelter, brought it to Grace Church. Let’s also honor the other churches who contributed space, like St. John’s Lutheran and First Methodist, and the countless volunteers from those churches and many others, as well as civic organizations who provided meals every night, 365 days a year, for all of those years. All of them deserve our hearty thanks and gratitude, as does Porchlight and its predecessor agencies who operated the shelter for many years, and will operate the new shelter when it opens in 2025.

A changing neighborhood, a changing church: My annual report to the parish, 2023

Excerpted here. The full report is available on our website: www.gracechurchmadison.org

I’m sure that many saw the stories in Saturday’s State Journal about the potential sale of the Silver Dollar Bar and the possible redevelopment of that area opposite us on the corner of Fairchild and W. Mifflin. Perhaps you have questions about the implications of that redevelopment, as well as the Wisconsin History Center on the future of Grace Church, or whether, as was discussed in past years, Grace might be a part of any such development. 

Buried in the article was a detail that oldtimers might remember: Hovde Properties’ efforts to redevelop this block date back to 1998. Also buried was another detail: that there are no firm plans in place for redevelopment and that the goal right now is to raze the area in preparation for construction of the Wisconsin History Center. It’s also worth reminding ourselves that our own conversations with Hovde began in 2013 and have occurred off and on since then.

The History Center will begin construction next year—a fitting symbol of the enormous changes taking place in Madison. There are construction cranes all over the city and in the suburbs, evidence of the growth we are experiencing. But underneath the growth are other enormous changes—changes in the way we live and work and spend our free time. Alongside the stories of development are other stories—of continued office vacancies; the state is ridding itself of office space in the downtown area, meaning more development, but what will come? 

As we ponder and observe the changing landscape of our neighborhood and our city, we are also called to reflect on our place in it, as stewards of a historic building and congregation, and as followers of Christ called to love God and our neighbor. The enormous changes taking place include not just a transformation of our lived environment but also of our community and connections. We are all too aware of the continuing racial and economic disparities, with crises in affordable housing, economic and educational opportunity, food insecurity, health care. 

This has been a year of transition in other ways. So far, we’ve seen thirteen deaths in the parish—some of those were people who were only marginally connected to Grace. Others, were pillars of our congregation, volunteering their time, energy, and gifts for decades, and supporting our ministries financially. They have already left gaping holes in our pews and in our congregational life. Like mainline churches in general, ours is an aging congregation, and those who have led it over the decades are stepping back. They will be missed. But in the next few years, we will need to be more effective, and more proactive in cultivating new leadership that will sustain our congregation in the coming years. Like a new roof that will last 80-100 years, incorporating new generations into our congregation will help sustain it for decades to come.

Another important transition, or possible transition, is taking place beyond our walls—the ongoing work toward reunification of the three Episcopal dioceses of Wisconsin. As you know, all three dioceses voted in favor of moving forward—in Eau Claire and Milwaukee, more than 90% voted in favor; in Fond du Lac, roughly 60%. There is work to be done on the structure and governance that will emerge, and work to be done in building relationships among Episcopalians across the state. The joint convention that will vote on reunification will take place on May 4. I hope you will pay close attention to the information about reunification that will come out over the next months and engage in the conversations that will take place. This is an opportunity to reimagine being the Episcopal Church in Wisconsin; inviting our creativity, courage, and faith to move us forward into a new era.

This brings me back to where I began today. In a few months, our block may look very different—the only buildings remaining intact the Hovde Building to our west, the Churchill building to our north, and of course, our own beloved Grace Church which has stood on this spot as a witness for 165 years. Just as we are being invited to imagine the future of the Episcopal Church in the state of Wisconsin, our changing built environment invites us to reimagine our role and witness in downtown Madison. How might we connect and cooperate with the new Wisconsin History Center? How might our presence as the oldest church edifice in Madison, the oldest building on Capitol Square help to tell the story of Wisconsin’s history, and help to shape our neighborhoods future?

There are enormous challenges facing us, as a congregation, a community, a nation, a globe. I needn’t list them all. It would be easy to succumb to the temptation to withdraw, to close in on ourselves, to seek to protect what we have, to live in the past. It would be easy to let our fears for the future and our nostalgia for the past overwhelm us. But our God is calling us into the future. When Jesus ascended into heaven, he left his disciples with what we know as the great commission, to go into all the world, to share the good news, to baptize, and make disciples. That is still what we are called to do. Those disciples didn’t know what awaited them, what they would encounter but they stepped out in faith. So too must we, for Jesus’ words still call to us across the millennia; to share the good news, to make disciples. And he promised and us, another thing: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” With these words, Matthew ended his gospel and comfort us today. Jesus is with us always. 

Reflecting on a decade of shared ministry 1

As I approach the tenth anniversary of my shared ministry with and at Grace Episcopal Church, I am amazed by what we have accomplished and by how much I have changed and learned over the years. I remember the fear and excitement I felt when I walked through the doors of Grace for the first time as its rector. I remember the challenges we faced, all of the uncertainty, all of the rebuilding of trust that needed to take place in the wake of the previous years’ trauma and conflict. I remember also those leaders who are no longer there, who have moved or passed on to the larger life, such as Sally Phelps who was Senior Warden for the first months of my tenure.

I like to tell people this. When I was working through the ordination process in the Diocese of Upper South Carolina from 2002-2005, if someone had asked me about my dream job, I would have replied, “a downtown historic church with an active homeless ministry in a city with a major university.” On August 1, 2009 I began working in my dream job. Ten years later, it still is. There are constantly new challenges, new people to meet, new opportunities for learning, new opportunities to share the good news of Jesus Christ. Days like today remind me of that.

It began with a meeting of the Community Advisory Team of the Beacon, the Day Resource Center operated by Catholic Charities. The effort to site and operate such a facility was a focus of my work for a couple of years as the lack of such a facility put enormous stress on downtown churches and put the lives of people experiencing homelessness at risk. At some point, I finally gave up as it seemed such a facility would never materialize, and then out of the blue, the miracle happened. A site was located, Catholic Charities received the contract to operate it, and now, nearly two years after it opened, it is seeing an average of over 200 guests a day. Supporting it, even if only by attending quarterly meetings of this group, is a blessing. Hearing about its successes and helping in some small to address challenges is incredibly rewarding.

In the office later, as I was working through the email accumulated over the weekend, I received a phone call from my friend and colleague, the chaplain at Capitol Lakes, who requested I come to administer last rites to an Episcopal resident. I walked the two blocks, administered the rite, and returned to the office and to that email inbox that had continued to grow.

Lunch was a lovely conversation with my downtown (Protestant) clergy colleagues. When I arrived in 2009, while I was warmly welcomed by my Episcopal colleagues, I had no contact with my neighbor clergy, except that I initiated. I resolved that I would reach out when new clergy came. Now, I’m the veteran. Of the other three at the table, one is in his fourth year; one started just a few weeks ago. In addition to the simple joy of getting to know each and spending some time together, we talked about the issues that we all share, most significantly, the challenges of ministry with and among people experiencing homelessness.

I’m writing this from a coffee shop on Monroe St., where I am holding open office hours on Tuesday afternoons throughout the summer. One of the emails I sent earlier in the day was to the chair of the Personnel Committee to let her know that I would be working on staff ministry reviews if I was undisturbed by visitors. Fortunately, for that task, I was able to finish the ones I was working on. By the way, the office hours experiment has been a success. Not only have I had visitors and conversations I would not otherwise have had, last week the presence of two newcomers to Madison and Grace, both recently retired, was an opportunity for them to connect with each other as well as with me. And in between visits, I’ve been able to get a lot of work done without the distractions of the office.

One of the things I did before beginning this post was to go back to my blog archives from 2009. I was curious whether I wrote much about the beginning of my ministry. The answer is no, except for in my sermons. The transition to full-time parish ministry wasn’t particularly difficult. What was challenging and unexpected was simply the level of administrative detail, the constant new challenges of ministry in an urban environment. Nothing could have prepared me for that or for the ways in which those challenges, and the changing city itself would affect my ministry.

In some essays over the next few weeks, I hope to reflect on some of the themes I detect in my and Grace’s shared ministry over the last decade: homelessness, our relationship with the political life of city, state, and nation, racism, and the transformation of American Christianity. All of these are themes I’ve preached and written about over the years, but I think it would be helpful for myself and others to reflect on them in light of our past experience as we think about the future.

The last ten years have been exciting and challenging. They have been difficult at times, and there were periods where we weren’t certain that Grace and I were a good fit. I have caused pain to others and have suffered some pain as well. But through it all I have sensed God’s presence in my life and in our common life, ministries, and outreach. We have sought to be faithful followers of Jesus Christ, to be his body in this place, and to be a place of healing, hope and witness to Christ’s redemptive love. I pray that we continue to do all of this in the years to come, with God’s help.