Helping

Ttoday I saw a post at the Episcopal Cafe about some other peoples' blog posts on helping those less fortunate, and one of them really spoke to me. Here is is, from the Under the Overpass blog ......

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My slow and steady conversion

"I went to America to convert the Indians! But, oh! Who shall convert me?" ---John Wesley

This week marked a milestone for me. It was seven years ago that I started working at the shelter. I did not mention it at work because we are all a little suspicious of naming such things out loud. Burnout is always crouching at the door and we have all known people who started bragging about their longevity working with the shelter one week only to be hospitalized for a nervous breakdown the next week. We walk softly and humbly around such topics.

The day I first started at the shelter I was both fearful and arrogant at the same time. Years of homeless stereotypes promoted by movies and television contributed to my fears. Were they dangerous? Would they reject me because I had never been homeless? The only thing that contributed to my arrogance was…well, myself. Like most people who come to work at the shelter, I was patting myself on the back for my willingness to help “those poor people.” I also suffered from a Messiah complex, probably worse than most. I pictured myself as a Biblical hero stepping out of the pages of Scripture on a mission from God or a modern day St. Francis. I did not realize then that the stories of the Biblical characters and even the ones from sacred history like St. Francis are icons designed to inspire by the way their stories are told. They challenge us in ways that the real flesh and blood versions could never do so. I have seen this "holy" evolution at work even my in own life. Some of the glowing introductions I have received when I go to speak at local events made me wince. As inspiring as it was to the audience, I could not help but feel like a holy fraud was being perpetrated on them. Don’t get me wrong. I long for someone like that to exist. I would gladly yield the podium for that selfless hero to take the stage, but in the end, it’s just me and I know better. That holy character is not me. The real flesh and blood me is just no damn good and it was the real flesh and blood me that reported for duty at the shelter seven years ago. I just did not know it at the time.

The thing that saved my soul was the gradual epiphany that the people I serve at the shelter are just that: people. They were and are just normal people like you and I. They are not the scary, dangerous caricatures portrayed in the media. They are not pitiful, helpless supplicants awaiting my brilliance. I still have to bite my lip whenever I hear a visitor talking down to our guests in almost a baby voice like they are infants. Then I remember how ignorant I was when I first rode in on my high horse.

You see, I approached the whole ministry to the poor and homeless thing with some very flawed assumptions. Back then I really thought it was my mission to change people and make them ready to fit into society. “Housing readiness” is the technical term for the model that says let me “fix” you so you will no longer be homeless. If I can make you more like me then you can finally be a respectable citizen. The hubris of such a position is staggering and yet it was shamelessly my position. That was before I came to realize that “society” is a cultural/geographic construct that is very fluid over time and space. There will always be people who do not fit into what society terms “normal.” I also know that the kingdom of God has most often been hidden among the “freaks and the misfits.” Today we in polite society would, like both of their families did, try to have Jesus and St. Francis committed and stabilized on medication. The reality is that I have had the privilege of assisting hundreds of people escape homelessness over the years. I have been more of a cheerleader, shoulder to cry on and guide to resources, but I have never seen one person succeed by becoming more like me. I have never successfully "fixed" anyone and made them respectable citizens so they could get an apartment. They did it and quite often in very unconventional ways that still astound me because of their ingenuity and determination. I simply assisted. It was a red letter day for me when I finally learned to get out of the way instead of trying to be “the man.” It has worked the same way with sharing my faith. I have had quite a few people profess faith in Christ after spending a great deal of time living and working with them, however, I have never successfully converted anyone by setting out to do so. One fellow tracked me down in the kitchen while I was stirring the spaghetti sauce. He said, “I want you to tell me how you became a Christian.” I looked up from the enormous pot and asked, “Why?” “Because I want to become one also.” I made him stir the sauce while I chopped up the noodles for the other pot and we talked. He became a Christian while helping me chop onions and peppers. I still have no idea if those tears were the onions or the Holy Spirit or maybe both. That day gave me a healthy respect for getting out of the way and not trying to impose my agenda on others. I have come to believe that God is always working and I simply need to know when to stand up and cheer rather than trying to steal the stage. The same is true about trying to impose my agenda for housing on people. It never happens the way I think it should, but is happens and quite often works out better than anything my limited perspective could imagine. I just have to know when to stand up and cheer.

That’s why I have become such a big proponent of creating opportunities for meaningful assistance while resisting the idolatrous temptation to think of myself as “the solution.” Doxy, a brilliant blogging friend of mine, recently published an excellent blog post about an experience she had at a homeless sheltering program. That post includes some of our correspondence about one aspect of this: work opportunities. There are other aspects to this. Some of the people who come to my shelter need real meaningful opportunities for mental healthcare, substance abuse recovery and affordable housing. No matter how much “society” wants people to change and behave by its rules, it becomes an exercise in pounding square pegs into round holes for my guests when there are no meaningful and just opportunities available to them. Instead of worrying about making individuals “housing ready” I have come to believe that we need to focus on helping society focus on “justice readiness.” I have also learned the hard way over my seven years that talking like that makes some people mad. That puts the problem back on us---all of us, and at the end of the day it’s always simply easier to blame someone else than it is to take responsibility for our collective failures. It’s easier to demand that “those people” change than it is to demand that we change the bigger status quo.

Seven years ago, I set out to save the homeless by changing them. Something funny happened along the way. I discovered that I was the one in need of saving---from my arrogant self. They ended up changing me. The biggest change for me has been a slow and steady conversion from thinking it was all about me or them to realizing that it is really all about us!

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