Another LONG, COMPLICATED conversation

Tonight half our team attended Chapel at Water Street (homeless shelter).  For an hour we sat in a room with people experiencing homelessness.  We exited the building to find it raining outside, and dashed a few feet to the car, which took us home (home: as in a place with a roof where we won’t get rained on).  As we settled in the living room, Kacy started voicing her guilt and anger – anger that some people were homeless and would be out on the streets tonight, and guilt at being able to just come home after Chapel.

Cue the LONG, COMPLICATED conversation.  Sidewalks is measured in long, complicated conversations. 

Soon the entire team is sitting in the living room, talking about homelessness and wrestling with guilt.  Frustration spills out at not being able to help.  We take a long tangent about if it’s ok to want to help – several articles and speakers have challenged everyone to put aside heroic helping and enter in to merely learn.  That tension spins us again into an earlier conversation about why Jesus says “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.”  The question of “why are we really here” takes us down another road.  And we come back to the guilt of privilege.

Because we’ve covered so much ground (and definitely talked in circles a bit), Lizzie suggests we share what we want to remember from the conversation before we move into prayer.  Here’s a sampling of what was shared (note the lack of resolution!):

Rhi – we need to make things long-term, to aim for changes that last through our lives instead of quick-fixes.

Josh – building relationships is everything.  The way I view Water Street has changed already.  On Day 1 I asked, “How can I help you?” when checking someone in; on Day 2 I asked, “How’ve you been since yesterday?”

Lizzie – I still have this overarching feeling of guilt about wanting to help.  I don’t know what to do with this because I get what Becky said about how “helping” separates the helper from the helped.

Kacy – I still don’t know what to do with the tension between our lives and the lives of people at Water Street.  I don’t know what to do with these strong emotions, or how to use my privilege to creatively build the kingdom.

 

Jesse – if our hearts keep breaking, we will use our power for others and for the kingdom.

Betsy – about the only thing we can immediately give someone is dignity and our expectation to learn and have some of our needs met by them.  One of the worst things about being poor is people thinking you have nothing to offer.

Jesse – we could treat clients as if they have as much to offer us as professors on campus.

Becky – a friend once told me “Don’t be upset that you have privilege, but be upset that I don’t.”

Lizzie – long-term care for people is possible.  The apostle Paul’s heart broke for everyone he met.  He carried that broken-heartedness and care around for years; it fueled his prayer and mission.

We then entered into a time of lament.  Lament is a new concept for many on the team.  These words from Reconciling All Things by Emmanuel Katongole and Chris Rice guided us:

 

“The first language of the church in a deeply broken world is not strategy, but prayer.  The journey of reconciliation is grounded in a call to see and encounter the rupture of this world so truthfully that we are literally slowed down.  We are called to a space where any explanation or action is too easy, too fast, too shallow – a space where the right response can only be a desperate cry directed to God.  We are called to learn the anguished cry of lament.”