I recently went on retreat at my favorite monastery, the Monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, Ga. It was a weekend retreat and my routine is always the same: check in after 3pm, visit the gift shop and get settled a little mentally before Vespers at 5:20. This was the first time I was assigned to a room with two beds at the retreat house, but I knew that I had the room to myself since there had been no mention of a roommate. But when I returned to my room at 5pm to drop off my recently purchased books and wash up before heading to the church, I discovered that another person's bags were on the other bed. (It turned out that he had been given the wrong key).
Since my friend had a room next door with an empty bed, I bunked there for the night. The minor mix-up on the room assignment turned out to be a great blessing for me. First, I had an opportunity to surrender my retreat to God and admit that this must be the retreat God has planned for me. That remembrance of God's providence didn't alter my plan to get a private room if I could (which I did and it was my favorite room yet), but it dramatically changed the EXPERIENCE of the rooming crisis and the retreat. It was the best retreat I've had yet, in part due to being willing to surrender to the experience.
But I also was able to glean some really useful insights for my ministry to the homeless. I discovered something about myself on this retreat, something I had suspected all along but now I know for sure. I find sleeping in a room with a complete stranger less than desirable. And even though I was able to spend the night in the room with a friend, I was reminded of something else: I can't sleep well in the room with someone snoring. And it occurred to me that this is what my homeless brothers and sisters endure when they enter a shelter- snoring strangers. And usually a room full of snoring strangers, each playing his own melody of nasal music. Just the thought could lead me to the local walmart to buy my camping supplies. Am I any different from most men I know? Definitely not. We may like our creature comforts but our country was founded by men who preferred frontier and the adventure over the next mountain. These men thought nothing of camping out in the open, as do some of our men of today.
Recently one of our homeless men who comes to Hope House has made a point of saying that he really didn't NEED anything. He is happy to have his time at Hope House with the people he loves but he doesn't come because he NEEDS to. He showers in the woods and runs a camp very well. One day, as he was making his point, he declined to take a food bag which was really puzzling to our volunteers because it was obvious that he was a little edgy about it. But I think it was his way of saying that just because he chooses to live in the woods doesn't mean that he is in desperate need of charity or that he is without the ability to care for himself. Sure he is homeless. But so are the people staying in the shelter. In fact, the people in the shelter are not any less homeless. Staying in the local homeless shelter is not morally superior to living in a tent and our brothers and sisters who choose to live independently as they work out their homelessness should not be looked down or denied services. Opportunities for employment or healthcare or other needs should not be withheld to manipulate them into conforming to our expectations. Food, mailing address access, computer access and other tools to escape homelessness should be provided as they work out their own plan, in their own time, and in their own way. May God continue to embolden our volunteers and advocates at Hope House as we continue to live in relationship with our homeless brothers and sisters.
