Lessons from the rejected

Lesson 3

Reflections from CHUM's Development Director, Mary Schmitz

I listened to a variety of Christmas music this weekend.  I love all kinds of Christmas music as it prepares me for my favorite holiday!

As I dusted and moved the furniture in preparation for putting up my Christmas decorations, I hummed along.  When “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” began I listened with a new pair of ears.  Rudolph was different He was left out.  Members of his community didn’t know how to engage with him.  Rudolph was hurt that he didn’t have anything to offer.

The folks we meet and advocated for at CHUM day after day are like Rudolph.  We don’t understand who they are and why they are not like us.  We can’t always see how to engage with them.  We are not sure if we should greet them, make eye contact or even if we should walk by them.  They appear different from us.

But fortunately Rudolph did have a special gift to offer, one that others couldn’t give.  Each person we meet has something to offer, even when it is not readily apparent.

As you hustle and bustle in preparation for your faith traditions holiday, take just a moment to acknowledge and engage the “Rudolph’s” among us.

I finished up my internship last week.  A majority of the time I spent at CHUM was with the employment program.  Many of the people I worked with have a pretty rough background.  Felonies and addictions make them unemployable.  I often wondered what their lives would look like if people gave them a chance.  A chance to work, to have an income, to provide for themselves and their families, to have responsibility, and to have dignity.  There is a tricky balance between having the compassion to give people a second chance while still reminding them that there are consequences for past mistakes.  With that in mind, I hope that we all can find ways to show compassion to those around us.  May we see value and worth in all people and may we empower them to live out their strengths in beautiful ways...no matter who they are.

Holy Groans By Rachel Tulloch

"As I write this, I am waiting for a bus on a busy corner in a extremely poor community in Central America, in which I lived for a year and have been visiting now for nine years. Most of the time, the tragedy of this place fades into the background of my thoughts, pushed there by familiarity, busyness, and the cheerfulness and the resilience of the people who have welcomed me here. Nonetheless, it is evident that the joy many people here display is in clear defiance of the facts of their daily existence.

Sometimes, moments like this one come when I can no longer ignore these facts, and the sense of tragedy becomes overwhelming. I can see garbage strewn around me-plastic bags, empty bottles, crumpled wrappers, cigarettes-things discarded. Since it is located on the site of an old dump, garbage literally serves as the foundation of this mini-city, which is full of people discarded. I see a young girl walking towards school and I wonder if she shares the experience of so many other girls and young women here whose bodies are used, owned, or defaced. I see a boy whose swagger makes him look older and more confident than he probably is. As he joins the group of laughing older boys, I am aware of how likely his future is to be stolen by gangs and drugs. They are more lucrative ventures than most other job options that will be available to him-lucrative as long as he is alive, that is. Beside me is a woman selling tortillas and green mangoes. Like the innumerable other single moms in this community, she must choose between being with her children and feeding them. Even the dogs, whose ugly skeletal bodies manage to reproduce at obscene rates, join this dance of joy and threat, death and life that is ordinary living here.

From behind me, I hear an old man groan; he is struggling to stand up from where he is sitting against a wall. And it seems to me right now that I can hear in his groan the groaning of this whole place, and for that matter, the groaning of all creation that Paul spoke of in Romans as it waits for its redemption. The groaning of these hills, soaked with the blood of those murdered for a cell phone or a pair of shoes. The groaning of this river, polluted with chemicals and sewage. Holy groans. Like the groans of the people in Egyptian slavery that touched the ears and heart of God. Like the groans of the psalmist while his very bones wasted away. Like groans of the crucified One, bearing the weight of the whole world's pain. I want to groan too, because I don't have any words to speak. So I am thankful for the beautiful Spirit who joins the groaning, who takes my conflicted feelings of guilt and anger and love and intercedes for me with "groans that words could not express." Holy groans.

But now, I am struck by something else. I hear the voice of a little girl coming from around the corner, singing loudly and clearly a song I know well: "Oh love of God, how rich and pure, how measureless and strong, it will forevermore endure, the saints' and angels' song!"

Love of God, rich and pure, measureless and strong. In the middle of so much suffering, this can easily sound like the mockery of an indifferent universe, I am certain of one thing: it must either be a cruel joke or the deepest possible truth. It is easy for philosophers and theologians to debate the question of suffering when they are removed from its stark reality. However, it is a costly thing for those who suffer to speak of the love of God in the midst of their pain. That is why their voice of the carries the ring and force of truth. When it come to questions of love and suffering, the voice of the smallest, the poorest, and the most vulnerable carries an authority far beyond that of philosophical treatises or the debates of the experts. I have read many good books on this topic, and I have even tried to write about it myself. But I have never read anything that speaks so profoundly to life's deepest groans than the song of this child in this place. This song does not dismiss or deny our groaning, but assures us that we do not groan in an empty void, but in the midst of a universe whose truest reality is Love."

Lessons from the rejected

Lesson 2

Community.  This is something that we all desire in some form or the other.  I have been a part of some incredible communities over the last few years and through these communities I have realized that they are essential.  Last Friday I completed the 6th week of my internship.  As I interact with the homeless population of Duluth in the drop in center and at my house I have seen some beautiful communities.  For example, there is a couple that moved to Duluth and into the shelter the same week that I started my internship.  They knew no one.  That same week another single guy moved into the shelter after spending a number of isolated weeks living out of his truck.  Throughout the last six weeks I have watched these three people find a community, a support system, among one another and with others in the drop in center.  This community can be bad, pressuring people into bad decisions, but it can also good.  When healthy, community can be the support system that people need to make it out alive.  Similarly, this past week our house of hospitality grew from 4 people to 10 people.  These new guests have all experienced some pretty traumatic events prior to coming here.  Abuse, addictions, violence, and homelessness has brought this group of people together and their budding friendship could be a huge factor in helping them to get out of those situations.  It has been such a joy to see these communities forming and I am so thankful to be a part them!

I know full well the importance of community and I desire it in my life.  One thing that I am learning though is the amount of trust needed within communities.  It is so easy for me to close myself off to others, not allowing them to really know me.  Without this openness I am closing myself off to truly being in community with others.  Trust and community go hand and hand.  Time and time again I find myself in conversations with people who are homeless.  These conversations are far from surface level.  Maybe, this is why the communities that they form seem so much deeper than most of communities that I see.  This level of trust allows them to go so much deeper in their relationships.  As a social work student I also understand the importance of boundaries within the relationships between myself and the folks that I interact with at the drop in center.  Although, I am learning a lot from seeing these relationships form.  As I see community in this setting I feel more pressure to apply these lessons to my communities of support.  I am learning the importance of being open and trusting, especially among those who I love. 

I hope that no matter where we are we can find communities that care for us, energize us, teach us, and love us.  We need this more than we realize.  Where do you find community?  Are they supporting you?  Do you support them?  And most importantly, how much do you trust this community to truly know you, care for you, and love you? 

          

The Sphere Of Exaltation

This really resonated with me and I wanted to share it...

We have all had times on the mount, when we have seen things from God's standpoint and have wanted to stay there;but God will never allow us to stay there.  The test of our spiritual life is the power to descend;if we have the power to rise only, something is wrong.  It is a great thing to be on the mount with God, but a man only gets there in order that afterwards he may get down among the devil possessed and lift them up.  We are not built for the mountains and the dawns and aesthetic affinities, those are for moments of inspiration, that is all.  We are built for the valley, for the ordinary stuff we are in, and that is where we have to prove our mettle.  Spiritual selfishness always wants repeated moments on the mount.  We feel we could talk like angels and live like angels, if only we could stay on the mount.  The times of exaltation are exceptional, they have their meaning in our life with God, but we must beware lest our spiritual selfishness wants to make them the only time.

We are apt to think that everything that happens is to be turned into useful teaching, it is to be turned into something better than teaching, viz., into character.  The mount is not meant to teach us anything, it is meant to make us something.  There is a great snare in asking-What is the use of it?  In spiritual matters we can never calculate on that line.  The moments on the mountain tops are rare moments and they are meant for something in God's purpose.

-From the October 1st lesson from Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest.

Lessons from the rejected

Today I spent an hour chatting with a lady at the drop in center.  This women is in her 70's and has been homeless for the last 25 years.  She suffered severe abuse as a child and to this day struggles with a learning disability.  Throughout her life she, like most people who are homeless, has been rejected.  This population experiences rejection on a daily basis because of their homelessness, their nationality, their addictions, their mental and physical disabilities....and the list goes on and on.  These people consistently have doors shut in their face.  As an intern, I have many jobs around the drop in center, but I think that my most important job is to listen.  Sitting down with an individual and listening to their story shows people that they have purpose.  I have learned some beautiful things during these conversations and want to share them with others.  So, I am going to start a mini blog series: Lesson's from the rejected.

Lesson 1

Live by faith.  A while back I was reading the book Crazy Love by Francis Chan.  At one point in the book he challenges his readers by asking "What are you doing in your life that requires you to live by faith?"  I really struggled with this.  I live a very comfortable, cushy life.  I live my life, and I struggle to put my faith totally in God.  Today, my new friend at the drop in center reminded me of the importance of relying on God.  I was inspired by her faith.  As she shared about her life it was apparent that she knows more than anyone else I have ever met what it means to live by faith.  She shared with me that ever day she cries out to her Daddy, her Pappa, her God.  It is scary not knowing what the next day will hold?  Where she will rest her head?  Will her meals fill her stomach?  If I was in that same situation I feel that I would give up hope, lose faith.  Hearing her cry out to her Daddy was a much needed reminder for me that I can not do this on my own.  I need my Father, my God.  Relying on my own abilities will never be enough.  I must rely on God.  I must live by faith.

...for you

The body of Christ broken for you

                                The blood of Christ shed for you

Last spring I stood at the front of my home church helping to distribute communion.  The line of people waiting to receive their portion of bread and wine seemed endless.  The body of Christ broken for you.  The body of Christ broken for you.  The body of Christ broken for you.  The body of Christ broken for you.  I started to feel like a broken record.  The body of Christ broken for you.  As I reflect on this experience I began to think maybe I was just having a bad day…but then I realize that I really have no excuse for not being joyful as I distributed this incredible gift.  Anyway, half way through communion I realized that this is the body of Christ broken for you.  And this is the body of Christ broken for YOU.  And this is the body of Christ broken for YOU!  Instantly, this monotonous motion transformed into one of the most incredible and powerful lessons of my life.  Jesus’ body, blood, grace, love it’s for us all.  Each one of us is loved by Christ.  And how moving it is to break bread and place it in the outstretched hand of a friend, a family member, or a stranger…looking each one in the eye and knowing that they are loved by Christ.  You are loved by Christ.

Distributing communion has become one of my new favorite things, but I still struggle to make this lesson roll over into my daily life.  At times, it can be difficult to look every person we encounter in the eye and accept that this is the body of Christ broken for you.

I am currently working at a homeless shelter and living in a hospitality house.  I am surrounded by people struggling with homelessness, mental illness, and chemical dependency.  I see single mothers screaming at their children, I hear drunk men yelling obscenities at me from across the street, the smell cigarette smoke is always present, and people are constantly abusing the kindness of others.  It is very easy for me to look down at these people, viewing myself as superior. 

And then I am reminded of that day last spring as I distributed communion.

The body of Christ broken for you.

It is difficult to see value in all people.  It is difficult to see Christ in all people. 

So, as I continue this semester surrounded by homelessness it is my goal is to remember that Christ died for everyone.  As I follow Christ I must remember that the body of Christ is broken for us all.  Addictions, strengths, failures, mistakes, histories, successes, friends, life styles, personal hygiene…none of that will ever make anyone worthy on unworthy of the grace of God.  I must apply this to the way that I interact with the ones around me.  I am not superior to anyone and I never will be. 

This goal will not be reached easily and I know that it will be a lifelong struggle.  Further, I know that I will never be able to do this on my own.  

So please, join me.  Together let us love and care for others with the same compassion and grace that Christ gives us.

This is the body of Christ broken for you….for us all. 

Waiting...

Stuck. Static. Still. Stationary. Stagnant.

So often in life I feel stuck.  Throughout high school and even college I felt trapped.  Life seemed  like a never ending check list of to do’s…all of these boxes to check before I could reach my goals, my future, my life, my dreams.  The past few months I have had many conversations with people about these frustrations.  We all seem to be waiting for something.  Waiting for that promotion, waiting to get the kids through college, waiting for that diploma, waiting, waiting, static waiting.

But waiting for what?

Once we finish one “check list” it seems that another is created instantly.  When will we finally be happy about where we are in life?  When will we stop dragging our feet around, complaining about our life? When will really start living?

Two weeks ago I moved to a new town.  I moved into a hospitality house and started an internship at a homeless shelter.  This is what I have been waiting to do for years!  I am fulfilling my dreams.  But for some reason I still find myself stuck in the future, impatiently waiting for the next thing, the next job, the next adventure. 

While it is good to dream about the possibilities of the future, it is my goal this semester to put more focus on the here and now.  No more waiting for Me!  God is able to use all of us in incredible ways.  We don’t have to wait for that college degree, that high school diploma, or that promotion.  Keep pursuing your goals but be joyful in the meantime.  Where ever we are right now…God is willing to work through us.  Be open to whatever comes your way.  Allow every moment to be an opportunity to

Love.  Serve.  Laugh.  Worship. Live.