Community needs are met at the St. Joseph Parish ‘Grab & Go’ event, especially in winter
By Michael Cooney | For On Mission
APPLETON, WI — Something quite extraordinary happens in the Great Hall at St. Joseph Parish in Appleton on Tuesday afternoons. From 12:30 to 3 p.m., the doors are open. Coffee is hot. Tables fill. Laughter drifts across the room. People come for lunch, but many stay because they are known as “neighbors.”
This is Grab & Go, a free weekly lunch open to anyone. No forms. No questions. No conditions. Just food, conversation, clothing if needed, access to medical and mental health care, help finding shelter when the cold turns dangerous — and, most of all, relationship.
“Here, it’s not us and them,” said Br. Ray Stadmeyer, O.F.M. Cap., a priest of the Capuchin order and the pastor of St. Joseph Parish. “It’s like a coffee shop. We know people. We enjoy them. And they know we enjoy them.”
That difference — subtle but profound — defines Grab & Go. It is not a soup kitchen in the traditional sense. There is no line separating volunteers from guests. Everyone sits together. Everyone belongs. No one at Grab & Go would call it perfect. It is messy. Human. Unpredictable. But it is real.
Grab & Go did not begin with a master plan. While some people take a meal and leave, most stay.
“It kind of just happened,” Br. Stadmeyer said. “Larry (Mauthe) and I put out a sign that said, ‘Come for coffee.’ For a long time, nobody came.”
But slowly, word spread. Someone told a friend. A neighbor told another neighbor. And people began to show up — not just for coffee, but for conversation.
Larry Mauthe, a parishioner of St. Joseph Parish, remembers those early days clearly.
“We didn’t start this to give it away,” he said. “We started it and kept it here — because that’s what you do when you invite neighbors into your home. This is our home.”
That sense of home still defines the space. Volunteers don’t rush people through. No one is watched or managed. There is laughter, gentle teasing, and familiar greetings.
“This is where friends come together,” Mauthe said. “In an environment of equals. It doesn’t matter if you’re Brother Ray or someone who’s just trying to survive the week. It’s a no-judgment zone.” In its own way, it could be “the best party in Appleton.” On many Tuesdays, it’s hard to argue.
For the parish, Grab & Go has also become a ministry, especially for retired parishioners.
“It gives our retired members a purpose,” Br. Stadmeyer said. “They know the folks. They love them. And the folks love them back.”
Volunteers don’t come just to be busy. They come with intention and hospitality. They remember names. They notice who hasn’t shown up in a while. They check in.
This relational approach has deep roots for Br. Stadmeyer, shaped by 25 years of ministry in Detroit.
“The biggest thing was never service,” he said. “It was relationship. We’re all in the same boat. That’s what the Gospel calls us to — brothers and sisters.”
While food is the anchor, Grab & Go has grown into something far more comprehensive. On any given Tuesday, neighbors can leave with groceries, warm clothing, socks, or coats. They can connect with health care partners offering dental, physical, and mental health services on a sliding scale. A local cosmetology school provides free haircuts and basic grooming services. Nail care is offered by volunteers who understand that dignity matters.
“These partnerships help us address real needs,” Mauthe said. “We’re honest with people. Sometimes we say, ‘I don’t know if we can meet this — but we’ll do our best.’ And then we make the calls.”
When winter arrives, those calls become urgent.
“The last couple of weeks, there’s been panic,” Mauthe said. “Winter really is here.”
On particularly cold nights, the parish steps in to protect life — paying for hotel rooms when shelters are full.
“Twenty-nine people last night,” Mauthe said quietly. “We are blessed with generous people.”
“When it’s about protecting life,” he said, “we clear away the distractions and focus.”
St. Joseph has a long history as a Capuchin parish — a place where new ministries often begin.
But parish leaders say Grab & Go represents something deeper: a return to the heart of Christianity.
“Every group I’ve talked to, only one ever had a problem with the word ‘neighbor,’” Mauthe said. “Jesus didn’t. He called everyone a neighbor.”
That grounding matters. Grab & Go is not charity performed at arm’s length. It is hospitality rooted in shared humanity.
“There’s ecstasy and agony here,” Mauthe said with a smile. “All of it. And it’s okay.”
Jeremy remembers when Grab & Go was just beginning. “There were maybe 10 or 15 people,” he said.
He has been coming for years, through some of the hardest chapters of his life. Now 60 days sober and living in a sober house, Jeremy comes for something deeper than food.
“I get hugs here,” he said. “People greet me in tears because they’re happy to see where I’m at. That makes me feel good.”
After spending a long time on the streets, he knows many of the faces in the room.
“I love coming down here and seeing everybody,” he said. “I tell as many people as I can about this place. It’s lovely.”
Jeremy wants people to understand that addiction and homelessness aren’t simple choices.
“People think you get sober and your life just gets better,” he said. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s a spiritual malady. You have to surrender to a higher power. It’s not easy — but it’s freeing.”
Liza comes for lunch, clothing, and connection. What stays with her is how she’s treated.
“They’re amazing,” she said. “They go out of their way.” When the weather turned dangerously cold, and she had trouble walking, the parish arranged a hotel stay — and a volunteer drove her there. “That meant a lot,” she said.
For Liza, being listened to matters as much as the practical help.
“Sometimes just talking to us helps,” she said. She recently moved into housing through coordinated programs connected to Grab & Go. “The little things help the most.”
Roberto comes every Tuesday, traveling by bus in his motorized wheelchair. He started coming when he was homeless. Now he lives in Kaukauna, but the sense of belonging keeps him returning.
“The food is good. The people are happy,” he said. “They’re very social.” He feels cared for. “They give me clothes. They help me with food. They’re so nice to me,” he said with a laugh. “And that helps a lot.”
For Sherrod, the struggle is ongoing. Because of dangerously low temperatures, he is temporarily sheltered through a winter program. Before that, he lived under a bridge.
“Concrete just sucks the heat out of you,” he said. “I had two sleeping bags. Built a barrier for the wind. Still froze.”
He never imagined he’d be there.
“If I ever get a place,” he said, “I will never go backwards.”
What keeps him going is faith.
“Hope and prayers,” he said. “Me, myself, and God. That’s what gets me through.”
For Br. Stadmeyer, the meaning is clear. “This is God’s work,” he said. “Sometimes I just stand back and think — this is the kingdom of heaven, right here. All of us together. With all of our wounds. Loving each other. A place where I can laugh with people. Listen to them. Be with them, that’s a joy.”
In a world divided into categories — served and server, housed and unhoused — Grab & Go quietly insists on something else. At this table, everyone is a neighbor.