‘Where God resides is with the heartbroken, and the marginalized, and the vulnerable’
At the corner of Blaisdell and 26th in Minneapolis lies Calvary Church, a place of worship, education for children and deep-rooted faith. For more than 140 years Calvary has been a functioning church, serving a rich, multicultural, multi-socioeconomic, multiracial community. The church is one block west of the site where Alex Pretti was shot and killed by federal agents on Jan. 24.
“It’s a very unique church,” said Julie Winn, wife of head pastor, Christian Winn, as well as recently retired Director of Teaching and Learning at Minnehaha, and parent. “The people truly do live as though they are the body of Christ serving one another in really practical ways.”
Julie Winn in 2020 (Minnehaha Archive)
Residing in the heart of many protests, arrests, detainments and Pretti’s shooting has meant coming face-to-face with these events, whether that be voluntary or not. After Pretti was killed, protesters and mourners surged to the neighborhood. Opening its doors to the public, Calvary Church became a place for prayer as well as a warming station. Without much planning, neighbors and community members quickly came forward, dropping off an array of different foods and materials.
“It was really just an incredible outpouring of people who just came forward,” said Winn. “It was neighbors helping neighbors. It was truly beautiful…. The neighbors of [people afraid to leave their homes] were the ones who started taking these children to school, they started showing up, bringing three or four kids of their neighbors. That turned into larger mutual aid of food coverage, housing assistance, and emotional care.”
Visiting the memorial, Winn witnessed the community’s response as well as to join in on the singing, praying, and hopeful conversations being administered.
“People might worry that the city isn’t safe, but the truth is if you go somewhere like that, you feel encompassed,” said Winn, who said she was offered different foods from tables that had been set up in the area, as well as different cultural cuisines like samosas from Somali individuals.
“It’s breaking down almost some of the fears around race in terms of, ‘I’m ok in your eyes, and you’re ok, if we are there and we’re there together, we’re in it together,’ and it’s just this different sense of connection,” said Winn.
Experiencing the uplifting spirit of the community left Winn feeling more connected to her peers.
“You’d think going to a march or going to a place like that would feel heavy and be filled with anger,” Winn said. “The opposite is true. You feel absolutely safe, absolutely uplifted and surrounded by community. You feel this deep sense of camaraderie and unification and love.”
As Winn wrestles with the events that have occurred around Calvary, she reflects on what it means to be a Christian throughout it all. She said she hopes that individuals can look within themselves and decide to show each other the same love that they would expect to receive.
“When you’re in those spaces, bringing your heart to those spaces, you are magnifying what we’re called to do as Christians,” said Winn. “We are in a time of living parables, so the hard part of living through a time like this is that it’s really tiring and exhausting and feels like you’re riding a knife’s edge. But on the other hand, it puts you in a position where you are truly tested in terms of who you are and what you stand for, and it refines you in a way.”
Being in these spaces can even bring you closer to God, she said.
“That is the place where I think Jesus resides,” Winn said. “Where God resides is with the heartbroken, and the marginalized, and the vulnerable.”
