Room service
A small group of Whitworth College students gathered in the campus dining hall on a recent Saturday afternoon to make sandwiches – 300 sandwiches, to be exact.
They are part of En Christo, a student-founded, student-led ministry established as a campus club in 1990. Each week, they deliver sack lunches to residents of the Otis and New Madison hotels in downtown Spokane.
“We provide food, but our primary goal is to establish and invest in relationships,” said co-director Margaret Mitsuyasu. “The food is just a vehicle to make connection with the downtown residents.”
Working quickly in assembly-line fashion, the group made ham-and-cheese sandwiches.
Sodexho, the campus food provider, offers the sandwich fixings and fruit at cost. The Union Gospel Mission provides the dessert.
Kyle Navis, a sophomore, said he feels this is something worth doing outside of school. “A lot of people downtown lack stability. When we show up each week with the lunches, it provides a source of stability and connection for them.”
According to Mitsuyasu, 90 to 100 students are involved with En Christo at various levels. Some prepare the sandwiches, some deliver them and some support the ministry through prayer.
“En Christo” means “in Christ” in Greek.
“We’re dependent upon the Lord to do his work,” Mitsuyasu said. “We can’t accomplish anything of lasting difference on our own. That’s why someone is always in prayer for the teams.”
A Scripture verse on a slip of paper is tucked into each of the sack lunches, and the bags are loaded into big plastic tubs. Group members then share a meal together and prepare for their trip downtown.
Whitworth Presbyterian Church lets the students use its 15-passenger van each week. Several local churches partner with En Christo to deliver the meals when the students are on break from school.
The contrast between the well-kept brick buildings and tree-lined lawns of Whitworth and the railroad underpass downtown where the students meet to deliver the food is dramatic.
Co-director Derek Taylor said, “It’s a cross-cultural experience right here in Spokane.” The lanky student perched on a metal folding chair on the sidewalk and strummed his guitar.
Pam Anderson, a freshman from Eugene, Ore., said, “This is the first time I’ve done a ministry like this. It’s really opened my eyes to what’s going on around me.”
What’s going on at the Otis Hotel is poverty. The low-income residence facility is filled with people who are disabled or unemployed, as well as many senior citizens on reduced incomes.
An almost visible miasma of cigarette smoke lingers in the brightly lit lobby. Though smoking no longer is allowed in public areas of the building, the stench still loiters like an unwelcome guest and wraps visitors in a stale-smelling blanket.
The Whitworth students divide into teams of one man and one woman, assigned to different floors of the Otis and New Madison hotels.
Each Saturday, Mitsuyasu and 18-year-old Kevin Weiser visit the second floor of the Otis. Weiser hefts the tub full of sandwiches and wrestles it through the aging elevator doors. The two stop to pray before they begin knocking on doors.
Resident Nancy Volcko is a favorite of the pair. Wearing a gray sweater over her red housedress, she welcomes the students into her cramped apartment. Her dog, Wolffy, greets the guests like long-lost friends. It is Wolffy’s first birthday, and Volcko shows her visitors the dog’s new toy and special treats.
“How’s your week been?” Weiser asks.
Volcko had had some medical problems, and she showed her doctor’s report to him.
The three visit while Wolffy bounces among them. As they leave, Weiser deposits a couple of lunches on the counter.
“These guys are the greatest,” Volcko said as she gave the students warm hugs. “They make a lot of people happy.”
Next, the two students tap on a door across the hall from Volcko. A gentleman called “Pappy,” clad in a blue velour bathrobe, answers the door. “Come in,” he says, brushing his long gray hair off his shoulders. “Sit down before you fall down.”
He chats with the students while perusing UFO magazines with a magnifying glass, then asked for four of the lunches.
And so it went. Down the halls of the Otis Hotel, the pair knocked on doors and delivered food, but more importantly, they offered conversation and caring.
“I had a resident tell me we’re the only people they talk to all week,” Mitsuyasu said.
Anderson nodded in agreement. “They just want to talk to us, to be part of our lives. They love to be listened to – a lot of them are just ignored.”
All Volcko knows is that each week, she’ll hear a knock on her door. A voice will call, “En Christo!” And when she opens the door, her young friends will be waiting on the other side.
“I so look forward to seeing them,” she said. “They’re absolutely wonderful.”