Texas
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Bread and Bibles lead souls to Jesus
Twice a week, Texas church meets neighbors in its parking lot.
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FORT WORTH, TEXAS — “Free Bread.”
“Free Bibles.”
The simple messages catch the attention of motorists passing the Bridgewood Church of Christ — at a busy corner just off the East Loop 820 thoroughfare.
“Is it really free?’” people ask.
“It’s free,” church member Booker Williams assures them. “It’s like salvation. You’ve just got to come and get it.”
Bridgewood Church of Christ member Booker Williams, center, greets neighbors during the congregation’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
The North Texas church started giving away physical — and spiritual — food in its parking lot nearly three years ago.
The outreach began as a one-time pop-up. It transformed into a twice-weekly benevolence program that connects the congregation with neighbors and leads souls to Jesus.
“A food pantry that I volunteer with … used to give us like two or three of these banana boxes of bread,” minister Jon McKenzie said. “Our members would just kind of grab the bread from the kitchen … and they could give it to a friend or a neighbor who needed it.”
But one day, the charity called and offered McKenzie extra bread — 24 cases in all.
He gulped and took it.
Contemplating how to distribute it, he thought, “We’re on a busy road, so why don’t we just try and give it away?”
He rounded up Bibles to hand out with the bread, but he feared the impromptu pop-up might just go … pop.
“I was worried it was going to flop, so I didn’t call anybody for help. It was just me,” McKenzie recalled. “And the people came. … I guess the rest is history.”
Jon McKenzie serves as the minister for the Bridgewood Church of Christ. He’s pictured at the congregation’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
Doing good in Jesus’ name
Built in 1969 in an affluent area, the Bridgewood church grew to more than 500 members in the 1970s.
Ensuing decades brought increased poverty and crime to east Fort Worth. As many moved away or chose to worship elsewhere, Sunday attendance fell to about 80.
“Crime has leveled out and decreased,” McKenzie said, “but crime and the working poor remain a key issue.”
Several years ago, Bridgewood became known mainly as “the church across the street from Whataburger.” While the fast-food restaurant is a nice neighbor, the minister said, the church “wanted to be known for the things we actually do in the community — in the name of Christ.”
Members started volunteering at nearby schools.
They planted a community garden.
And — whether the result of happenstance or providence — they began organizing the bread-and-Bible pop-ups each Wednesday and Saturday.
Guests browse the options during the regular Saturday food giveaway of the Bridgewood Church of Christ.
Pam Griffin became a Christian after McKenzie and his wife, Brianne, mentored her granddaughter Alexus Giffen, now 13, at a public elementary school.
Griffin’s husband, Robert, and other friends and relatives were baptized as well.
“The one thing that got me was that they were very loving, very caring,” Pam Griffin said of the Bridgewood church. “They don’t look at what you’re wearing. … They care more about the person that you are.”
“The one thing that got me was that they were very loving, very caring. They don’t look at what you’re wearing. … They care more about the person that you are.”
Longtime member Catie Mckee, 35, is a licensed barber and cosmetologist.
She offered free haircuts during a recent pop-up.
“I do remember when Bridgewood was 500-plus strong,” Mckee said. “I have seen many families come and go, but I love seeing the new faces who become familiar faces.”
Bridgewood Church of Christ member Catie Mckee gives a free haircut during the congregation’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
A growing Spanish ministry
Those faces used to be predominantly White.
Now the flock reflects the area’s multicultural mix — with sizable numbers of Black and Hispanic members.
Average attendance tops 120 a week, including about 20 Spanish speakers, many reached through the pop-ups.
One of Bridgewood’s key volunteers, 80-year-old Carrol Harris Sr., grew up on a South Texas farm.
“All my friends were Mexican,” Harris said of how he became bilingual.
Carrol Harris Sr. hauls a trailer with drinks during the Bridgewood Church of Christ’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
Federico Sandatte and his wife, Amalia, lead the church’s Spanish ministry.
Federico previously served as an elder for a different congregation. The Sandattes connected with Bridgewood when they noticed the pop-up and stopped to say hello.
Harris recalls that first conversation.
“Hey brother, how are you doing?” Federico said to Harris in English.
Harris drew a chuckle when he responded in Spanish.
Federico Sandatte, right, and his wife, Amalia Sandatte, look through a box of bread during the Bridgewood Church of Christ’s regular Saturday giveaway.
As the two men talked, Harris explained to Federico “that we were praying and trying to get the Spanish work started in this congregation.”
“That’s really good,” Federico replied. “Keep praying.”
Two months later, the Sandattes decided to join the work at Bridgewood.
As Harris sees it, Bridgewood had no choice but to adapt to the area’s demographic changes.
“If we don’t change, we might as well go ahead and shut the door,” he said. “Because guess what? You don’t have to fly on a plane or ride on a bus to be on the mission field. It’s right here.”
The Bridgewood Church of Christ added a Spanish assembly to serve the changing needs of its neighborhood.
‘A fantastic thing’
“Pan, alimentos y biblias gratis,” reads a sign by the road.
In English, that means, “Free bread, food and Bibles.”
Bridgewood’s Spanish services draw attendees from El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico and other countries.
On a recent Sunday, the group sang hymns such “Tuyo Soy Jesús” (“I Am Thine, O Lord”), “Canten del Amor de Cristo” (“When We All Get to Heaven”) and “En la Viña del Señor” (“In the Vineyard of the Lord”).
Richard Garcia leads singing during the Bridgewood Church of Christ’s Spanish assembly
Juan Noriega and his wife, Nuerys Malavè, visited the assembly.
They came to the U.S. from Venezuela about a year ago. The free bread and Bibles led Noriega’s brother to accept Jesus in baptism.
“This is a fantastic thing for new immigrants,” Malavè said of the pop-ups, “to have some help and be able to get their feet on the ground.”
What accounts for the Spanish ministry’s growth?
“I think part of the reason,” Brianne McKenzie said, “is because (the immigrants) are coming from hard places, and they’re finding a sense of community.”
Carrol Harris Sr. chats with Juan Noriega and his wife, Nuerys Malavè, who visited the Bridgewood Church of Christ on a recent Sunday.
A prime location
For a smaller congregation, maintaining a facility built to serve hundreds presents a major challenge, as does paying for the upkeep and utilities, leaders said.
“But we’ve got such a good spot,” Jon McKenzie said of the location. “We hate to give it up.”
He quoted a neighbor who told him: “We need your church on that corner. We need someone to share good into the community on that corner.”
Church member Marsha Fry, a 74-year-old retired schoolteacher, volunteers at the pop-ups.
She began helping when key ministry leaders were out of town on mission trips to El Salvador and the Caribbean island of Dominica.
And she liked it.
“These men work very hard … lifting heavy boxes and everything,” Fry said. “I was blown away with admiration for them and respect. I may not be as strong as they are, but I come up here, and I do my best.”
Church member Marsha Fry offers a free Bible to a neighbor during the Bridgewood Church of Christ’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
A guest picks out a free loaf of bread during the Bridgewood Church of Christ’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
Rose Batiste, a 63-year-old grandmother, characterizes herself as a French-speaking Louisiana Cajun.
A regular at the pop-ups, the transplanted Texan welcomes the free bread. The home health care worker said she makes about $10.50 an hour and struggles to make ends meet.
Through partnerships with the Midwest Food Bank of Texas and N.E.E.D. DFW, Bridgewood distributes thousands of pounds of bread and other grocery items each month.
“It helps people like me that don’t have anything,” Batiste said.
Bridgewood Church of Christ members pray for a neighbor — whose husband recently got out of the hospital — during the congregation’s regular Saturday food giveaway.
Getting too comfortable
Church member Williams often prays with those helped.
“A lot of times in the churches, we tell people, ‘Just come to see us on Sunday,’” said the 52-year-old information technology professional, who teaches Bridgewood’s Wednesday night adult Bible class.
“But it’s like going to the mall,” he added. “Have you ever done any window shopping? You see something that you like, and you make the choice to go in there.”
Through the pop-ups, Williams said, hurting people meet Christians who care and then decide to visit.
On a recent Saturday, a woman receiving help asked for prayers. She meant prayers in a general sense. But Williams bowed his head and lifted her up to God right then and there.
Members sometimes lament what Bridgewood has lost — in terms of numbers.
Williams takes a different view.
He tells fellow Christians: “Y’all are so focused on what we lost that you don’t look at what we’ve gained. If you just invite one person every week, we can rebuild.”
A guest picks up a free Bible during the regular Saturday food giveaway of the Bridgewood Church of Christ.
Christians have become “so comfortable in these benches that we stopped inviting people,” he said.
The pop-ups cultivate conversations that lead to such invitations. And it starts with simple messages.
“Free Bread.”
“Free Bibles.”
BOBBY ROSS JR. is Editor-in-Chief of The Christian Chronicle. He traveled to Fort Worth to report this story. Reach him at [email protected].
