The past five weeks have been taken up with people involved with Gospel Mission Society, stepping in to help sort through the various tasks that needed to be done following the sudden passing of Pastor Barry. On top of that, there's been the need to reassure the people we serve in the Hastings Central area that Gospel Mission and The Lord's Rain will continue. Certainly, the Mission has survived since 1929 through all sorts of challenges and it will survive the next few months as things get sorted out; but humans tend to look at any current situation as being permanent and need to be reminded that things do change and in faith, difficulties are overcome: stumbling blocks, in fact, turn into stepping stones.
We held the Annual General Meeting of the Gospel Mission Society last night, and as I left, I ran into Joseph, one of our native brothers who often comes into The Lord's Rain. He's one of many of whom I can truly say I have seen at his best and at his worst. A few years ago, he stumbled into our Saturday night service and promptly fell asleep on one of the benches. We finished the service and cleaned up, figuring we'd wait until we were ready to close up before waking him. But when we couldn't wake him, that was when we saw the row of staples in his scalp. Our natural reaction: "head injury! Won't wake up! Call 911!" Which was what we did.
But Joseph has also come into the Mission and The Lord's Rain, asking questions about the Bible and definitely contemplating the world around him in that context. Whenever I talk to him, he tends to contemplate a lot before responding -- although he does have a quick laugh with a tendency towards sardonic humor -- and his responses are well-considered. It often feels like he sees the world around him as terribly out-of-joint with what he knows from the Bible, and he has no idea what to do about it -- rather like Jackson Browne's heart-wrenching lyrics, "I have done all that I could/To see the evil and the good without hiding/You must help me if you can."
Indeed, I've often thought there's something of the evangelist in him, because he certainly knows his Scripture and has a very engaging personality -- even when he's drunk. (You have to understand some of the dynamics of the people in the Hastings Central area to know that you can't really dismiss the notion of someone who's an alcoholic leading others who are alcoholic. It's not a case of the blind leading the blind, as much as it is the "can't-see" being led by the "want-to-see". I think that makes sense.)
So when I came out of the Mission, Joseph wanted to know what I was doing in the 'hood. I told him about the challenges. "You can do it," he said. "Nothing is impossible."
It's not unusual for one of the "street people" to say something that absolutely boosts one's confidence. It's one thing for us in the Ministry to encourage one another, but when one of the people we serve speaks even a couple of words straight from the heart like that, it reminds us what we're there for.
***
"Have you got a place for the night?" I asked Joseph.
"Oh, yeah," he said. "Blood Alley." He paused, and then broke into a grin. "I've beat up enough people there, I might as well sleep there!"
(Despite its rather violent-sounding name in an area known for lawlessness since the Gold Rush days, Blood Alley actually got its name from the butcher shop that would toss entrails, etc., out the back door. It's tempting to say that the place was pretty "offal", but we must respect our boundaries, so I won't.)
Evidently, Joseph, Bruce and Jeremy -- two other native chaps who were with him last night -- fall into the category of "street homeless", which, apparently, has grown in number in the past year, despite the hard work by very dedicated people like my dear friend Judy Graves, who "retired" as the city's housing advocate a year ago but still champions the cause, and Mayor Gregor Robertson and his staff. There are a number of things on which I don't agree with Hizzoner, but there's no denying progress has been made. Sadly, the newspaper reporting on the prediction that the annual Homeless Count would be up from last year focused on the political reaction, given that Mayor Robertson had promised to eliminate street homelessness by next year and this is an election year. His opponents were quick to sneer at this "broken campaign promise"; as I've often said, the view from the press box is always better than the view on the ice. But for all the political jousting, the fact remains that there are still Josephs, Bruces and Jeremys in our town who spend their evenings choosing their alleys, park benches or patches of grass.
"Better pray for him, Pastor," Joseph said, motioning to Bruce. "Welfare screwed me around, man," Bruce said, more in bewilderment than anger. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but the bottom line is, he didn't have a place. "Me too," put in Jeremy. And so we did.
***
Responds well to stimuli ...
Jeremy often comes into The Lord's Rain right at opening time -- 6:30 or 7 -- and lies down on one of the benches and goes to sleep. Probably the best sleep he gets, and we certainly don't try to roust him out. He has a violent streak and has the build of an MMA fighter and I must admit, I'm a bit leery when he comes in (probably a good reason to let him sleep). But this past Saturday, I got to see a different side. I had taken him upstairs to the Mission so he could use the washroom; when he came out, he saw me leafing through one of the Bibles. "Read me something," he said. I turned to Psalm 91 ("He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High/Shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty"). It's about the way the Lord protects those who put their trust in Him. Jeremy listened carefully, and when I had finished, said, "thanks!" "You understand what it means? Stay close to Him and He will protect you." He contemplated that, then nodded and hugged me.
One never knows what fruit the seeds we sow will bear. But this I do know, Jeremy has a less threatening demeanor: he responds well to the "love stimulus".
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