Just Another Jim's

Alaska Journal

Ch. 5: The Commodities Program

Posted August 4, 2006 by James E. Nelson

Less than a month into my ministry at Delta I was introduced to the local government commodities program. The Presbyterian Church oversees the program in Delta Junction. In theory it’s a pretty straightforward community service. Eligibility for surplus commodities is determined by a federal agency. Those who are eligible are given a card that they bring along on distribution day. The commodities are supposed to arrive at a predetermined time and then are distributed at a set time each month. In Delta commodities arrived at the end of the month and distribution was nine to noon the first Saturday of the month.

In August the commodities truck arrived with no warning, off schedule, and in a hurry to get to his next stop. Rev. Lee, the Korean pastor, and I had to unload the truck because no one else was available on such short notice. Fortunately it was a small shipment. Commodities day would normally have been a few days later on Sept. 3 (the first Saturday of the month), but because of Labor Day weekend, the distribution was changed to Sep. 10. This schedule change was well advertised about town, but many people forgot or didn’t get the word. We were at Fielding Lake on Sept. 2, but I had things I needed to do to get ready for Sunday, so we returned to Delta late that night and were home on Saturday, Sept. 3.

Remember The House? The outside door leads into a small entry room from which there are three doors. Straight ahead is the living area, to the right is “the library” (where A.A. meets) and the left is what used to be the guest bedroom but what was for the last couple of years the commodity pantry. During the pastoral vacancy those running commodities had the living area open so they would have access to the phone and restroom during the day.

Earlier in the week our doorknob broke. It was an industrial type doorknob that I did not have the tools to either fix or remove. (Remember, this building was a recreation center in its past life built with strange Canadian tools in mind.) We could deadbolt the door shut, but other than that it would freely swing open and shut. Of course, being a beautiful day, Chris was in and out of the house that Saturday, Sept. 3, so the door was frequently not bolted and thus swinging freely open and shut. The effect of the unlocked door was stunning: Folks in search of commodities, the restroom, or possibly the phone, were just wandering into the house unannounced, demanding to know why the commodities weren’t being served, wandering back to the restroom, checking out the kitchen, the new furniture, etc.

In any transition there are always the small details that even the best of planners overlook. So it was with our move to Delta Junction. Literally overnight, the lion’s share of the big white building next door to the Presbyterian Church had been transformed from public community building to private residence, but no one remembered to tell the public. For those first couple of weeks the house seemed like a wonderful challenge. On Saturday, Sept 3, our view of things changed drastically. A certain panic set in: How long are we going to have to put up with these strangers (no, I’m being way too nice; they were weirdos) wandering in and out of the house? Anger quickly followed: How could they have not thought of this? And as some of the more interesting commodities recipients passed through the unbolted door, fear slowly settled over the household. Delta was obviously home to some pretty unsavory characters. How would they respond to their building being invaded by the minister’s family?

The shocking jolt into the everyday world of Delta Junction forever shaped our thinking about the town and the ministry that I had undertaken in Delta. It also shaped my understanding of the second great end of the church: “the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God.” Prior to Delta Junction I had access to a Deacon’s Fund, the police’s ability to do a background check, and a variety of social service agencies to help people in need and move them on their way. In Delta, the seamy side of social service became apparent. A few people were legitimately needy and were served well by what the church could offer. Many of the needy in Delta had severe emotional problems. Some were escapists with attitudes and activities that bordered on social pathology. Not a few were just plain lazy and chose to take advantage of the generous social programs Alaska had to offer.

The fact that the Presbyterian Church was the place with the commodities program and the A.A. groups tended to make it (and the white building next door, where we lived) a focal point for this whole range of needy people. For instance:

• There was one thin wall separating Chris’s bedroom from the library. One night a man who appeared less than stable emotionally, carrying both a knife and a pistol, slept in the library (because it was impossible to lock the outside door and the library was always accessible). The State troopers had other concerns that night and never did manage to find the time to clear the man out of the library. He evidently left early the next morning and I never saw him again.
• If we happened to forget to lock our door on A.A. nights it was not uncommon for some unkempt person to wander through the house, smoking a cigarette, on his way to the bathroom. If it was a good night, he aimed.
• One man showed up at our door very drunk and suffering from frost bite. It was cold. Because he had done nothing against the law the troopers refused to get involved. Because he was considered dangerous, the ambulance drivers refused to take him to the hospital. I ended up driving him to the hospital in Fairbanks (100 miles north) and finding a temporary home for his dog.
• One woman made regular stops at the house asking if we had any meat to give away. She lived thirty miles out of town, far beyond telephone and electricity. Both she and her husband were drug addicts. They refused any other sort of help for their real problems because it might get them in trouble with the law.

All of these people had legitimate needs. Many of those needs were of such magnitude that no one in the church or the community had any real expertise to help them. Along with these truly needy were the lazy, the nosy, and those who were generally a nuisance. Although the Gospels don’t tell us anything about those who were mostly a nuisance, no doubt Jesus had to put up with the same sort of characters. The reality is that if we take on a ministry such as this, it is impossible to limit it to the truly needy and it is also impossible to get the help that many people need. It is an endless and mostly thankless job.

The commodities program and helping the needy were considered a ministry of the church and the local Presbyterians took great pride in all the things that were done for the down and outers in Delta. But unless you lived in The House—in the back of the big white building at the Presbyterian Church—you remained insulated from the real problems. Because the members of the Pastor Nominating Committee lived far away from the church building, they simply did not know what ministry to the needy meant nor what living in The House was like. Because they did not know what it meant, they could not communicate the reality of that work. Because my previous work with down and outers had been from behind a huge desk in a fancy office, I had no idea what to ask about ministry to the truly needy. Because we could not communicate the reality of the work with each other, it came as a total surprise to me and my family when we moved to Delta.

This was possibly the most important part of my job in that church, but it was the part that I disliked the most. It was also not unique to Delta Junction. Every location has its down and outers and in every location, someone is helping them. Almost always that work is done quietly. Most members of the community don’t even know of the desperation of some of their neighbors. I never expected to be on the front lines of this type of social ministry, but it came with The House. It was part of the regular rhythm of life for the Presbyterian pastor in Delta Junction.