Kolbe's Mission Blog, CIC Post #3
Besides the heart of our mission, it might help to give you a picture of what an encounter with a homeless person might look like. I like to say it goes one of three ways: you are either (1) completely rejected, (2) tolerated, or (3) totally accepted. What does this look like?
Besides the heart of our mission, it might help to give you a picture of what an encounter with a homeless person might look like. I like to say it goes one of three ways: you are either (1) completely rejected, (2) tolerated, or (3) totally accepted. What does this look like?
- Well, meeting our friends who reject us may happen one week and the same person(s) may be receptive towards us in the next. I experienced this firsthand just a week ago! It's important to love them still and always try to meet them with an open heart; I did not do so the second time I met someone who rejected us (I kept my distance) and found that one or two other missionaries had the opportunity to hold open, kind conversations with them in that encounter. As much as I hoped to see this person again and maybe build a friendship with them to better understand them and their views of us, I allowed my fear from the previous encounter to prevent another, hopefully better one.
- When we are tolerated, it is not a disappointment but an opportunity to persist and prove to them that our offer of friendship is true. Sometimes this just takes time; the Year of Service missionaries have told us of more than one friendship that started with one-word conversations and grew into beautiful, real friendships with people that learned they could trust these missionaries. The solution for these encounters is the same as the previous: keep trying and certainly pray for that person you've encountered.
- This one is the last and most special: in some cases this example is a result of the friendships of past missionaries that's made our friends on the streets so open, but in a bit, you will see for yourself that the truth of our friends on the streets, the meaning of homelessness, and the eradication of stereotypes rests here. I'm going to name these three people in my example Adam, Jacob, and Kyle. Adam and Jacob are two of the most well-known by anyone they've encountered, but Kyle is just as sweet as either of them. After a couple years of lasting friendships with Christ in the City missionaries, they've opened up to all Christ in the City participants (long-term and short-term both; even daily volunteers) and regularly attend our Lunch in the Park events. They now look forward to seeing us on our daily routes and always greet us with shouts of joy and laughter. They are truly grateful for our presence and for each of us missionaries. Every regular Christ in the City volunteer knows them, and many short-term or infrequent visitors probably remember them for their boisterous (and infectious) demeanor, which often results in their being surrounded by volunteers at Lunch in the Park. What some people may not know is that all three of them struggle deeply with a substance addiction or abuse and sometimes find trouble with the law. If someone knew this, would it change their opinion of our friends? Maybe. But if they knew our friends better, they would also know that every time we visit, our friends respect our no-alcohol and no-drugs policy; even in their most tearing substance withdrawals, they will fight endlessly to not give in to in front of us: something they may have never thought of or needed to think of until they met friends who wanted them to strive for sobriety. They know that even when they fail we will not see them differently, but rather be inspired to pray for them all the more and, as Mother Theresa once said, to "love until it hurts"—even beyond the hurting. Eventually, with our friendship, they may seek further help for their needs and find reconciliation with themselves and with society. Until then and always onward, we're not there to judge them but to share in the most powerful effector given to us by God, which is Love.
The call for all of us is to be brave and be bold. We're going to encounter difficult situations in our relationships with one another close to home and, if we are called to minister to those far away spiritually, physically, mentally, emotionally, materially, or otherwise and accept this call, we will find rough points in those relationships too. As any caretaker of another person knows (and we've all been there at some point in our lives when the opportunity for charity arises), what's important is to do what we are called, to give and not count the cost. Because of this, my final note in the final paragraph of this blog post is to please, please be willing to speak with the poor when you encounter them. Christ in the City missionaries have their restrictions for good reasons: I'm not telling you to give them things that could be abused (money, promises that put you in unsafe places, etc.) but rather to just stop by and say hello. Talk to them as you would with a nice person you've just met: ask questions (first, give your name and then ask theirs. It's what we do with most anybody we meet on a first-time basis)! Smile and listen. You might be surprised by how open they are to talking or you might be offended by how little they thought of your presence there. But what you may never think of, or even just in the time you are walking away from that person (regardless of how the encounter went) is that that person may have never had a 10-minute conversation with a person in days, weeks, months, or years, or if they had, most wouldn’t have been friendly ones. They may not have even heard their own name from somebody else for all that time. Imagine yourself there as that person, but also imagine how beautiful it is to be loved in your world of despair by the person you just allowed yourself to be. We are all God's children; this is the reality of homelessness—more accurately, this is the reality of humanity. Let's love each other as we are one another's brothers and sisters; then hopefully you'll see each person you meet in all forms of poverty as your friends.