Justice III
Justice vs Injustice – treating people fairly, justly, equitably, or not. An all too familiar story: the same principles with different characters. It sets me over the edge. We hear about it at our drop in, outreach and just talking to our street friends – most every day.
Scene 1: A call to a social worker, medical person, agency, landlord or service provider ends in complete frustration in one or several results: they can’t get through to the right person, they are told to make an appointment or come and stand in que, there are forms and procedures that need to be followed/completed first, or any number of excuses that reinforce an already too familiar message: “Go away.”
Scene 2: One of our staff or a volunteer makes that same call, that same day, to the very same person, and things begin to happen: no more delays, forms, procedures, ques, that needed person suddenly becomes available… almost magically.
It’s not magic at all. It’s injustice. It’s treating people with favoritism, prejudice, and it ranks of everything wrong.
Who am I that I can get through? Executive Director? OK, well Loris the outreach volunteer can get the same results.
In our city, it is obvious that people experiencing poverty and homelessness are apparently easy to detect over the telephone. Maybe it’s years of abuse, insecurity, mental health issues, faltering and halting speech, the ‘not sure what to say next’ that gives them away – whatever the indicator, the poor are quickly earmarked as second class (or lower) citizens and the message is clear: “You are not important. You can wait. I don’t have to deal with you.”
It’s the same message they received from those who have oppressed them throughout their lives, the stepfather who beat them senseless or exploited them sexually, the foster home where the violence never stopped, or the residential school experiences that terrorize their sleep and they wake up screaming. The BIG difference is that the people who are answering these calls for help are not supposed to be hampered by alcoholism or drugs or hatred or violence – at least not while they are working.
This sounds ludricrous, but it happens regularly in our current culture. No wonder many of the men and women who have had to make the streets their home have given up on life. No wonder that trust is something that has to be earned on a daily basis. No wonder that it takes months and years to build relationship. No wonder hope is lost.
It’s a travesty of injustice. It has been accepted by our street friends as a way of life. That’s the way it is, get used to it.
A bigger travesty? We let it happen. All the time. Every day.
Justice II
Justice. I stepped back for a moment at our drop in and marveled at the 200+ guests that were visiting that day. In the midst of all the noise and clamour, I was amazed at what I saw: people in all directions, but without distinction between our volunteers and our street friends; people mixing and mingling with our guests, caring, listening, loving - it was a beautiful picture of a caring community. In the midst of all the bustle and busyness, there was a sense of the presence of God.
Why this sometimes overwhelming sense of God’s presence, I wondered? It must be because the people who come to us have been traumatized, abused and neglected. They are often innocent victims of abuse and violence that has made an indelible imprint on their lives. Rejection has been their bread throughout life, and their brokenness has never had opportunity to heal. For the most part, the damage that makes up their lives and their stories has not been something they could have done anything about. Abused and violated as children, they have no responsibility for their hurt, and many will live (and die) with these issues unresolved. Surely I thought, at least in part, this is why it seems that God has a special care for the ‘least of these’.
Some time after arriving at this understanding I was challenged in my thinking as I considered what the Bible says. God does not care for people experiencing poverty or homelessness any more than He cares for anyone: He loves all with a perfect love. Unbiased, impartial, fair and just, He cares for all equally.
So why is there often a definite and real sense of God at work among the poor? On more than one occasion I have experienced what Mother Theresa has described “Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor.”
It is not an issue of favoritism or partiality, but rather an issue with the character of God Himself. Over and over again in the Scriptures, we see that God’s justice is intrinsically fused together with his righteousness. In fact, these two aspects of God’s character are so bound together that there is often no distinction between the two. The words are commonly used interchangeably.
God who is just, is also righteous. This is part of the very fabric of the character of God.
God’s character is violated when people are mistreated, marginalized and abused. With no one to care for them, our street friends are moved along from one styrofoam cup to the next. People sleep in doorways and alleys, behind garbage bins and scrounge for food where ever they can. They are alone, lonely and isolated.
That this is true of thousands of people here in Ottawa, and in your city, is a cause for great alarm. This is injustice, and is an affront to the character of God, a shame to those of us who can make a difference and an opportunity for those of us who choose to do so.
Street Outreach Encounter
Allow me to divert from my traditional ‘blog’, and share an account from one of our Street Outreach teams:
Scene 1: Rideau Street McDonalds. We had not seen Amy for about 18 months, but there she was! We learned she has been in Montreal since we last met, but was just back on the streets in Ottawa. It was great to see her again, and she felt the same.
Out from the shadows emerges ‘Nain’ who struts over in a territorial, macho, ‘turf’, teenage alpha male style. In no uncertain terms, Nain let me know who he was and who Amy was relative to him. His nose almost touched mine as he ranted that he was a ‘real’ street guy and an Arian ‘brother’. Not threatening really, but certainly intentional.
We talked: how we knew Amy, what OIM was, how things were going with them, and we actually got to know each other.
Scene 2: Outreach in the Market Late night Monday outreach we found Amy and Nain tucked into a door stoop, under a sleeping bag, in the Market area. Nain remembered our first encounter and was actually happy to see us.
We spent the next ½ hour with our new friends. This time things were different. Gone was the harsh cold superficial exterior of the teenage alpha male. Instead we saw two young people who missed out on most childhood things because of abuse and violence in the home. They became like kids again as they shared their childhood stories, stories that were enough to move the strongest of characters to tears. At one point Nain made the statement “I was raised on hatred; I don’t really want to be this way”.
It was now after midnight and we had to move along: both for our outreach and so the two young people would remain ‘hidden’ in the door stoop.
I guess it was the father in me, that made me lift their sleeping bag, give it a shake and put it back over them in the cold doorway. I was careful to tuck in all the edges, just as I would do to my own children.
One of the most difficult things I have ever done was walk away and try to rationalize how we could leave two ‘kids’ to sleep in a doorway outside in the cold.
Scene 3: The next Thursday night we come across Nain, Amy and a few more street friends on Rideau. We strike up a conversation ranging from the weather change to hockey, etc, and in the midst of our ‘chat’, Nain looks directly at us and says, “Thank you for tucking us in the other night”.
Our macho, teenage alpha male, Aryan ‘brother’ had been transformed into someone, who just like us, who was able to enjoy a small piece of love and understanding under a sleeping bag in a doorway on a cold Ottawa winter night.
Reminders: 1. ‘Things on the street are not always as they initially appear, and more importantly, 2. We are genuinely humbled that we could have such a special moment and developing relationship with some young friends. That’s what makes volunteering such a great experience. Gregg.