In the Book of Galatians, the Apostle Paul gives his colleague Peter a talking-to because he’s treating people differently. Embarrassed after a group of Christian Jews comes to visit them, Peter stops sitting at the table with the Gentile Christians, whom the visiting Jews viewed as below them. Beyond being clique-ish, Paul confronts Peter because he’s endangering their very message: he reminds him that status has nothing to do with receiving the grace of God.
It's a conviction that the Frederick Rescue Mission has been living out for 60 years.
Since the Mission’s founding in 1964, the Christian ministry has served those who need a dose of God’s grace from a variety of different walks of life. Men have entered its addiction recovery program who have never known stability alongside men whose addictions destroyed outwardly prosperous lives. Its food pantry and soup kitchen serve those who are experiencing homelessness as well as those who may have homes but struggle to make ends meet. One of the policies of the Mission is not to make distinctions, but to recognize that hardship is not a respecter of persons.
“Not too long ago,” says Jasmine Sneed, the Rescue Mission’s Director of Partnership Development, “I referred a woman to Faith House, the Mission’s employment-focused residential program for women. I knew her several years ago from church – my daughter and I loved visiting with her children at their home. She had gone through a terrible divorce and was needing support to rebuild. Faith House ended up being the perfect choice for her – you really never know who may be going through a situation where they need help.”
The staff and many volunteers who serve through the Frederick Rescue Mission do so with humanity and humility. They seek to be observers of the old saying, “There but for the grace of God go I.”
A Prison Grants Freedom
The Rescue Mission’s expansive programming came from considerably humbler beginnings – a 10-bed men’s shelter and charity thrift store, in the building which now houses restaurant Il Porto. Founded by Dr. James Martin Resh Sr., it came about as part of a wider “rescue mission” ministry movement.
Its first major growth opportunity appeared when the former County Jail went up for sale in 1984. Built in 1875, the South Street property included the sheriff’s mansion as well as penitentiary housing for up to 150 men. The Frederick Union Rescue Mission, as it was then called, was able to negotiate with the County to purchase it for $10. Part of the condition of sale was that the Mission would establish a non-medical addiction recovery program in the new space.
They took that assignment and truly committed. The Changed Life Recovery Program (CLRP), a Christ-centered support for men facing healing from addiction, takes an intensive and holistic approach to bettering mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health. Its initial phase operates out of Beacon House, the former jail space, where bars have been sawed off windows and holding cells converted to men’s storage closets.
“It used to be a jail,” Sneed says, “but now God uses it to set people free.”
The large facility also enabled the Rescue Mission to begin serving meals as a soup kitchen and offering groceries to those in need. When its current Executive Director, Arnold Farlow, arrived in 2005, the Mission and the historic space began a phase of rehabilitation and expansion.
“We finished a two-story addition in 2011, which gave us a new cafeteria to serve over a hundred people at once – our old cafeteria only sat about 30,” Farlow says. “In 2016, we added the food distribution center, which really increased our grocery capacity, and in 2018 we added a brand new kitchen.” The kitchen in particular was a welcome innovation, as the former cramped and outdated kitchen had been constructed in the 1920s.
Also in 2016, the Rescue Mission relaunched Faith House, which once operated at their South Market Street location, but had closed during the early 2000’s. The new Faith House serves both individual women and women with children at a two-building campus near North Market and 7th Streets.
Most impressive of all, Farlow notes, is that all of this growth has been accomplished through the generosity of the Frederick community. “We don’t accept any government funding for our operations or programs,” Farlow says. “We have been able to make everything happen thanks to private donations and local funders.”
Providing in Purpose
Since Sneed arrived at the Mission in 2021, she’s made it one of her major goals simply to raise awareness and understanding of its activities in Frederick.
“I think a lot of people know who we are,” she says, “but I don’t know that people understand just how much we actually do.”
The breadth of the Mission’s activities becomes clear just by taking a tour of the South Street space on a typical weekday.
The front hallway of the old sheriff’s mansion, now the Mission’s administrative offices, is always hosting at least one intake conference where someone in need is seeking services. The kitchen is bustling at lunch – with a line forming long before the cafeteria opens at noon – and once food is served, groups of diners fill the tables (the Mission serves breakfast, as well). On the right side of the building, facing South Street, is the clothing donation center – set up like a small thrift store, where people shop clothes, shoes, bedding, and accessories for free.
A building on the left side functions as the food pantry, similar to a grocery store with sections for produce, meat, bread, and everything else you can imagine. Volunteers sort the donations and put them on shelves that are practically overflowing.
“By the time the day is over,” Sneed says, “it will all be gone.”
The only quiet place during the day is the men’s dormitories – all the men are out participating in work assignments, not only for a paycheck, but to build a sense of confidence and purpose. A visit to Carlton Hill, CLRP Program Director, gives insight into how transformative this sense of purpose can be.
“I got caught up in the crack cocaine epidemic of the ‘80s and ‘90s,” Hill – himself a graduate of the CLRP – recounts. “I went to a few different rehabs, but eventually realized I had to get out of my environment.”
The Rescue Mission made the difference – perhaps partially because of its location, but mainly because of its foundation. Hill credits rebuilding his relationship with God, through the CLRP, with getting his life back on track.
“I grew up going to church,” he says, “but I didn’t have a relationship with Jesus in the past.” After successfully completing the program, he became a certified addiction counselor and peer recovery specialist – and was blessed with healing in his life to become a homeowner and see his broken marriage restored.
Hill joins many other CLRP graduates who have returned as Rescue Mission staff and volunteers. It’s a testament to the gratitude emerging from lives that are truly changed. As Farlow says, the Mission’s first goal is positive change in the short term, through meeting immediate needs, followed by long-term transformation for eternity. The organization’s helping hand is offered as God’s grace and love: freely given and unearned. TheRescueMission.org
“It used to be a jail, but now God uses it to set people free.”
“I think a lot of people know who we are, but I don’t know that people understand how much we actually do.”