8 minute read
“Who Am I”
Zachary had asked Lenny to join the breakfast meeting to share some of his work as a Transitional and Supportive Care Chaplain at the Trauma Center. He hoped that Lenny could help him understand some of the social issues he was struggling with. He wanted this group of colleagues to help him rethink how the church connects and responds to people who are hurting. After introductions and settling down for coffee and bagels, Zachary explained why he had invited everyone. He told us he had asked Lenny to share his story. Lenny smiled as he looked around the table. “It’s an honor to be here and to share my story,” he said. He wanted this group of colleagues to help him rethink how the church connects and responds to people who are hurting.
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Early in my role as a Transitional and Supportive Care Chaplain, I met “Jerry” (not his real name). I had recently been hired by a Level I Trauma Center to continue building on an innovative approach to provide Spiritual Care and advocacy to patients who had been historically marginalized and overlooked, patients or families who were experiencing or were at risk of homelessness.
Jerry was one of the guys my predecessor had already built a consistent relationship with and was one of the first individuals I began interacting with upon my arrival. As an older African American gentleman, Jerry had been diagnosed with multiple mental health and substance use disorders, as well as significant health conditions requiring numerous visits to the hospital, sometimes daily. We hit it off almost immediately. Like many who have survived on the streets for a significant amount of time, he had a dry wit and keen observation and could be gregarious and charming - particularly when he was angling to get you to do something for him. He was savvy regarding programs and organizations in the community that were designed to assist individuals experiencing homelessness. Because of our age difference and the fact that I was relatively “green” when it came to homeless outreach work, he seemed to take an interest in making sure that I knew ‘the ropes’ and the culture of the homeless and helping the community. It was in this context that I began to engage with Jerry regularly. Soon it was not unusual for him to pop into my office to check in, usually to get something to eat but often to chat over coffee and let me know how things were going in his housing search.
As he began to trust me more, Jerry opened up about his life, where he was from, how he came to North Carolina, the fact that he had once been a successful small business owner, and his understanding of the events that had led him to become unhoused.
During one particular visit, Jerry came to my office with heightened anxiety. He had been working with a Housing Case Manager for a short time but did not feel she was as responsive to his inquiries as he liked. After expressing his frustrations for several minutes, Jerry asked me to reach out to the Case Manager to see if I could coordinate a time for him to go by and speak with her. Because I had been present during his intake process with this Case Manager, I agreed. I had stored her number in my cell phone, so we engaged in small talk while I retrieved it and began scrolling for her number. I was looking down when I heard Jerry exclaim loudly: “Homeless?” I looked up confusedly to find Jerry looking at my phone intently, his mouth protruding in a disapproving frown. “I’m sorry?” I replied, still confused but noticing a shift in the energy in the room. Jerry stared intently at me, and I could see he was upset. “Your phone,” he replied gruffly. “It has the name Jerry, and next to it, it says homeless!” I looked down and realized what he was referring to. In my contacts, I had two Jerrys listed. One spelled Jerry, and the other spelled JERRI. One was male, the other female, but because (at the time) I was just getting to know them, I had added the “homeless” designation to one so that I knew whose number was who. As it turned out, JERRI was the one to whom I had added the modifier. “No, Jerry,” I responded, “that is somebody else’s number…their name is similar to yours, so I wanted to make sure I knew whom I was calling.” I then proceeded to show him HIS number in my phone. Jerry nodded satisfactorily, and I could see his countenance immediately change. “Good,” he replied sternly, “I didn’t want to be known on your phone just as somebody who is homeless. Now let’s make that phone call.”
That interaction has always stuck with me throughout my professional and personal life. I often wonder what I would have done if Jerry had been equally as offended that I had labeled JERRI as homeless but suffice it to say, I NEVER placed the word “homeless” next to the name of any of the unhoused individuals I ministered to again. But it also brought a realization and direct intentionality that gives this scriptural text a broader meaning for me. In Matthew 16:13, Jesus asks his disciples a simple (yet profound) question: “Whom do men say that I, the Son of man, am?” His disciples go on to list some of the prevailing opinions that they have heard from various sources. In response to this, Jesus asks a more pointed question: “But whom say YE that I am?” Jesus knew who He was. He was challenging them to think deeper and broader about who He was. He was more than the labels and associations that men made to decide who He was. He is Jesus, the Son of God. Jerry was more than the label of homeless. He was Jerry, a child of God, made in the image of God (Imago Dei). Healing Centered Engagement tells us that the way people think of themselves is central to their healing, especially in relation to a broader community.
Trish had been listening intently to Lenny’s story. “Thanks for sharing your story, Lenny. Yes, as people who are called to walk alongside care-seekers who are hurting and desperate for hope, or have given up on it, our answer to this pivotal question can significantly impact how we engage, interact, and affect the lives of those we encounter.” Lenny nodded. “That is so true. I can recall countless times when I have been called by a unit to visit with a patient. Usually, the first information I was given regarding who they were was who was homeless, the drug seekers, those with a Substance Use Disorder, the ones with Persistent and Severe Mental Health Diagnoses.” Zachary perked up with a realization. “This is a great example of the importance of identity in creating resilience. Healing Centered Engagement tells us that the way people think of themselves is central to their healing, especially in relation to a broader community. From what I can see, Jerry feels a strong sense of identity as someone who can teach and manage and definitely not as “homeless!” He has resilience for survival and self-advocacy.”
Lisa took a sip from her coffee and added. “When I was in South Africa, I remember many of the conversations I had engaging care-seekers in the hospital and the community at large. They often began - explicitly or implicitly - with them wanting to know who I thought them to be. Many were used to being labeled or “othered” by people they had come in contact with. This would have been by staff and security at the hospital, their own family members, people in the community, and even within their own religious institutions.” Trish nodded. “These encounters have reinforced my understanding and belief in the power of words; and THIS is where you play such a vital role as a leader, organization, advocate, or member of the beloved community. When walking alongside hurting people, we must be relentlessly intentional to ensure that our language aligns with our mission and intentions.”
“I remember working with a group of unhoused men sleeping on the streets,” Lenny added. “I told them about some community resources that could help them. I described the soup kitchen, the night shelter and the recreational hall.
“But they were not interested. One by one, they adamantly refused to even consider them. When I asked why, they told me about their negative experiences. How they perceived - rightly or wrongly - that they were treated or spoken to by the staff within those institutions. Unfortunately, in some cases, I had to secretly agree with their assessments.” Zachary was desperate for some answers. “So where does that leave us? I mean those of us who are called to be with ‘the least of these’, the hurting, the others, the overlooked, the forgotten?” Trish smiled. “May I suggest that one simple yet profound starting point is for us to be able to frame who we ‘say they are’ in more hopeful, resiliency-inspiring terms. My faith tradition espouses the belief that all humankind is made in the “Imago Dei”—The image of God.” Zachary nodded. “Isn’t it about looking for that spark of life or humanity in a person rather than looking for a one-dimensional identity? Not pigeon-holing people?” Lisa agreed. “Yes! Regardless of religious or spiritual belief system, most people agree that there is SOMETHING, some
“May I suggest that one spark, some commonality, some intrinsic state of being that connects and binds all of humanity together.” simple yet profound Lisa smiled. “I saw this little phrase on the notice board of starting point is for a church in Denver that I visited a few years back. I think it us to be able to frame is helpful here: BELOVED - BE LOVED - BE LOVE! and who we ‘say they underneath were directions to these verses of scripture; “Whom do people say that I am?” “---Yeshua,” (Matthew are’ in more hopeful, 16:13, Mark 8:27, Luke 9:18).” resiliency-inspiring terms. ...”
