Re-entry

One of my favorite things about air travel is people watching. There are always interesting people in airports and on airplanes. On this weekend’s trip to Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, I flew with a guy dressed in some kind of martial arts outfit. There was a guy named Brian Moles—we were checking in at the same time. It was the first time either of us had met someone named Moles outside of our families. It was especially funny that he had the same name as my brother. There were Boy Scouts returning from their ranch in New Mexico, and there were a load of middle class families on late summer vacations. Even though everyone at the airport is there for a different reason, the thing that grabbed me is that we were all in the same boat—or maybe the same airplane—so to speak. We all get in that metal tube and pretend to be brave when we think about the fact that we’re rocketing through the air at 30,000 feet. We’re all at the mercy of the pilot, and what happens to one of us happens to us all.

That plane imagery captures what was good about spending four days with about 35 other national Young Adult Volunteers in the high deserts of Northern New Mexico. Those of us who were there had been in the same boat. We all were finishing a year that had taken us to places outside our comfort zones, and confronted us with the suffering that takes place in this world every minute of every day.

The best part of this retreat was that it was less programmed than our orientation was. We had lots of free time to get to know one another better and hear stories from the year. Much of the time that was spent on activities was spent in silent personal reflection or sharing in small groups. On Saturday night, each site group was responsible for putting together a skit or presentation that would convey something about its year. Many YAVs had similar experiences to ours, many were different. Through these presentations and lots of time for more informal story telling, including at our bonfire on the last night, we learned a lot about what each of us had been through.

The Atlanta group acted out something that is pretty much my whole life—the struggle and vicious cycle of obtaining important personal documents for homeless people. (You need a birth certificate to get an ID, an ID to get a Social Security card, an ID to get a birth certificate…) The Tucson, Miami, and Gulf Coast groups, which were the largest, told funny stories from the year. The Tucson site’s housing is required to be environmentally friendly to the point of letting termites eat an entire wall off the house. In Nashville, we lived in one of the smallest houses, but it was one of the nicest and in the nicest neighborhood. From what we could tell, despite the tighter than ordinary living conditions, our group had the least amount of conflict. Jody, one of two YAVs in Alaska this year, who only saw her counterpart three times all year, told about moving every month and the time when there was 300 inches of snow. I am astounded that she, like about half of the YAVs at the retreat, has chosen to stay at her site after her year of service. Those who aren’t staying are starting theological education or other graduate programs and a few are starting jobs.

The end of term retreat, sometimes called “re-entry,” was about providing those of us who had been through the experience of a lifetime a chance to take some time apart from the world in the time between our experience as volunteers and our re-entry into the world as employees or students. As Tara and I got off the plane onto the runway in Nashville, I remember we said, “We’re home.” It did feel more like home to set foot back in Tennessee than I had anticipated. The re-entry process will continue for a while, I’m sure, and it will take a lot of open space to process everything that happened this year and to understand what it meant. For four beautiful (and cool) days in New Mexico with fellow travelers on the journey of service, though, thanks be to God.

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Here's the poem that Tara and I wrote for our presentation to the group on Saturday night...

This is a follow-up to our poem from September,
It was so good, we're sure that you remember.

Nashville was great, that's why three of us are staying,
This time, though, for jobs that are paying.

Our community went shopping for an engagement ring,
So Patrick's getting married, that's why he fled the scene.

Overall, we had an excellent year.
Want a few specifics? Just lend us an ear.

Chasie spent her days at the Martha O'Bryan Center.
For kids and single moms, she became a mentor.

Jeff broke up fights and busted crack deals.
He also did his best to serve delicious meals.

Patrick worked with kids, at times they misbehaved.
When he helped them win the science fair, about his skill they raved.

Tara worked with immigrants as they adjusted to this nation.
She helped them buy houses in their process of integration.

We did our best to live simply in Green Hills,
Though living in one of Tennessee's richest zip codes certainly had its thrills.

We went on retreats to discern our vocation.
It was nice to get away to a different location.

Went as a group to Louisville in January.
There we saw Eleanor and Mary.

We celebrated with Second Pres. at its new building's dedication,
From doing justice and mission its members never vacation.

To think of anything bad to say, we'd have to scratch our heads
Except for the comfort level of Jeff and Patrick’s bunk bed.

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Well, it’s now been almost three weeks since NEP ended. Brian and I have moved into our new apartment in the West End/Vanderbilt area near Centennial Park, and I went back to work at the Campus on Wednesday. It was really great to get back into the swing of things. The only person who might be looking more forward to my first pay day than I am is Brian, since I’ve been mooching off his resources since we’ve been here. We’ve got things pretty well settled in the apartment and had our first guests over the weekend. Today was the first Sunday back at Second. It was Genesis Sunday, which is the same thing as Rally Day, and I was in a skit for the Outreach Committee, promoting volunteering with Room In The Inn. We parodied “24” and made Jack Bauer into a super-volunteer.

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I have one more blog post in me, which will be coming at some point soon—a final reflection on this year.

NO LONGER STRANGERS

As I was driving to work a few days ago, heading into the Music Row roundabout, I saw someone waving at me from a bench on the side of the road. It was Richard F., (see “The Campus, Day 1”) and he was smiling and waving at me while sitting next to a shopping cart full of his earthly belongings. It has become commonplace for me to have homeless people waving at me when they see my car around town, and I can’t go downtown without seeing lots of people I know. My friends and family laugh while we’re driving around and I say, “oh, there’s Ken,” and “that guy goes to my internet class,” or “you don’t want to cross that guy the wrong way.”

My roommates and I have been reflecting a lot recently about what it’s like to be on the “other side” of mission trips—being the ones receiving the benefits of church youth groups on their week-long trips to save the world, instead of being a part of those groups. Patrick laughed about the different groups of youth he had a Preston Taylor every week all summer, and how they’d all get sad and cry on the last day even though the kids would probably not remember who they were the next week. I experienced it when I went and gave thanks on behalf of the Campus to a group of youth here on a mission week, and as they all stampeded me to give me a hug and get their pictures taken with me, I was feeling bad that I couldn’t remember most of their names. We’ve laughed about how we re-do many of the work projects that they do because of their lack of professional skill. But that’s not the point.

An old way of seeing mission work might involve a missionary who brings something and gives it to those who are on the receiving end. The model that more appropriately describes the experience I had this year is mutual mission. Lines between those who serve and those who are being served often blur and roles become reversed. The mission God calls us to is not in hammers and nails, and plates of food or in sermons or any of that. It’s found in the relationships we develop while we serve one another. It’s in the love of one another that results from our love of God. That’s why kids cry at the end of mission trips and why I cried this morning when Patrick and Sarah headed off for Texas. We find this love by walking a mile in the shoes of our neighbor.

For the last three hundred thirty-three days, I have been humbled by the chance to walk alongside the people at the Campus for Human Development. There have been times when the walking alongside seems more like tripping over rocks, running behind to catch up, and walking in front, dragging people along. Though the walk might not be perfect, the opportunity to develop relationships with those who are the poorest of the poor in so many ways, but who often are so rich in faith, good humor and kindness.

I am thankful for the ways that mutual service has been practiced this year. When Ray, who would never speak until spoken to, came up to the desk to tell me that one of my tires was getting low on air, he was serving me. June, a staff member who was a participant at the Campus at one time, served Ray by trimming his beard, which has become the start of a dramatic change in his personality and his seeking housing on his own initiative. When after someone was particularly verbally abusive to me, I was served by the participants who came up to me to make sure I was okay. My collection of little gifts that people have given to me—I found a little vial of cologne and some cucumber-ginseng facial mist on my dresser as I was getting my things together—is a testament to the ways that people have been generous. When the line of people buying their gift vouchers for our More Than a Toy program this past Christmas was largely made up of people who had been attending classes and earning points so they could give vouchers away to other people who had children to buy for and not enough points, that was love in action.

Yesterday, the staff of the Campus put on a different type of shoes. Bowling shoes. We closed the Campus for the afternoon and we all headed to the bowling alley for pizza and fun. A surprise was that the reason for the party was to honor me and Brian, a fellow year-long intern through the Jesuit Volunteer Corps (a Catholic equivalent of the YAV program). It was our goodbye party without the goodbye part, since we will both be staying at the Campus. People were given an opportunity to share good (and bad) things about us. Hearing what the people I work with had to say about me was special, and they said things I wouldn’t have expected. Then we bowled. There was lots of cheering, laughing and even a few pins were knocked over in the process. I taunted Ms. Anneice, who had earlier told everybody about how we fight like boyfriend and girlfriend (yikes!), about how I was beating her, even though only by a few pins (says something about my bowling ability). It was just a time to let loose and have fun and to celebrate what we have been through together.

The most important thing about this year at the Campus has been the people who have been through it with me. Staff members, participants and volunteers have all been a part of the community that makes the Campus a special place. One year ago, I had never met a homeless person. Sure, I’d been to the Lighthouse Mission in Terre Haute once or twice, but the poor were an interesting concept and people I felt sorry for. I am thankful for the opportunity I have had to make friends out of people who were once foreign to me. The relationships I have formed and the love that has flowed between us has been an experience like none other.

Thanks be to God.

The Ring

The worst kept secret in the city of Nashville over the last month is that Patrick was planning to propose to his girlfriend, Sarah. As I write this (Monday night), Patrick is anxiously pacing around the Toolshed, waiting for time to head to the Midtown Café to set up his proposal night. Of course, by the time I actually post this on the blog, I will have made sure she said yes and have their permission to share the news.

On a Saturday several weeks ago, Patrick mistakenly let it slip that he was on his way to the jewelry store to do some ring shopping. Chasie, being the girl that she is, said, “oh, I’ll go with you!—I mean, if I can…”

After Patrick said she could, he said, “well it will be less weird if Jeff goes too.”

And so we loaded up in Patrick’s Durango to head for Cool Springs. As we were pulling out, Tara happened to pull in, so she jumped in too. Now, let me make it clear that I was not all that interested in which ring Patrick was going to choose. People ask me what the ring looks like, and I always say, it’s round and it’s got a diamond. I did have the time of my life at Shane Co. with their free homemade cookies and bottles of water the lady carried around in a basket. There was also the free coffee machine and the umbrellas that were available to take if it was raining. And Tara, Chasie and I got to know the security guy pretty well in the couple of hours that we were there. He tipped us off to the best kind of cookies and made sure to alert us when fresh ones came out. We were all a little surprised, including Patrick, when he actually bought a ring that day. We went and had a celebration at Bosco’s afterward. That Saturday was a highlight of the year, for sure.

He didn’t know it yet, but Sarah had let me know in early June that she was going to fly in to surprise Patrick for the Fourth of July, which was the next week from this ring-buying trip. So, we had that excitement on top of what Patrick was doing. The engagement ring was going to be ready on Tuesday at the exact same time that I was going to be picking Sarah up from the airport. I was charged with the task of making sure he didn’t walk into the house with a jewelry store bag, which would “ruin their lives forever” as Tara and Chasie explained to me. Fortunately, Mrs. Hammontree, who also knew that Sarah was coming to Nashville, had encouraged Patrick to leave the ring in the vault for safe keeping. Crisis averted.

What a privilege it was to share in Patrick’s preparation for this big step in his life—a result of some serious vocational discernment. This afternoon, as Patrick finished up his preparations for the big night—a whole gallery of pictures surrounded by rose petals that they would find in their private dining room at the Midtown Café after riding in a chauffeured town car from the airport—the others of us couldn’t help but share in his excitement.

That’s what this year living together has been all about. It has been about the overlapping of individual lives, forming one cohesive unit with bonds strong enough that they can’t be overwhelmed easily. As Annie said in her sermon yesterday, prayers were answered when the four of us somehow fell into place as the NEP volunteers for this year. Patrick and I were interested in several of the same sites—Atlanta, Nashville, and Cincinnati. Chasie was initially interested in going abroad. Tara wanted to go to Tucson. We all became drawn to Nashville for various reasons, but it can only be attributed to the movement of the Spirit that four people could be drawn together who not only shared an interest in service and the pursuit of social justice, but who could share 600 square feet for eleven months without a major conflict! Miracles do indeed still happen.

The four of us, whether we’ve been sitting on our couches in the living room, or going on a road trip together, or going out to eat, or sharing the highs and lows of our days, have found ways to share parts of our lives that will never be the same. Even though I’m sure we’ll talk often to Patrick, and Tara and Chasie will be living about two miles away from me and Brian, it won’t be the same.

I’ll miss bantering with Tara about whatever topic we can come up with. She is such a smart and funny person, and I admire her passion for justice and hospitality toward those who are coming to our country from Latin America. I will miss hearing Chasie’s laugh and talking to her about how our days went. I’ll miss the everyday chance to make up a little song about her or come up with a new nickname for her. I won’t miss sharing a bunk bed with Patrick, but I will certainly miss our spontaneous sing alongs and the way we make fun of the girls together, and saying “PATRICK!?!” when he comes in the door from work, and hearing “JEFF!?!” in response.

The same Spirit that brought us here was the same Spirit that became the love between us, as in Augustine’s description of the Trinity (the lover, the beloved, and the love between them). Community was not always easy. We didn’t always understand one another’s motives, and we didn’t always agree on how things should be done. As Henri Nouwen wrote, “Nothing is sweet or easy about community. Community is a fellowship of people who do not hide their joys and sorrows but make them visible to each other in a gesture of hope.”

In the struggle to create authentic community with one another, we found common ground that gave us strength and truly gave us hope to be able to find the image of God in one another and in the people we have met in service. Patrick somehow found hope with his girlfriend 900 miles away that a future with her was what he wanted. And we all shared in the joy of that discovery.

By the time I’ve gotten around to writing this part, it’s almost 11:00pm and we’re waiting excitedly for Patrick and Sarah to come back here. Our time together as an organized community is over, but the memories we have shared and the common life we have developed will go on. Thanks be to God for the gifts of friendship, love and mutual faith that we have shared in this amazing journey.

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It’s now Tuesday night. We’re officially YAVs for just about an hour more. Patrick and Sarah are talking on their phones sharing their news with friends from Texas. Tara and Chasie are getting things moved into their new townhouse, and I’m getting a few things together before I do the bulk of my packing tomorrow morning. We’ll all spend our last night together here tonight. Since my apartment won’t be available until the 3rd, I’ll be leaving most of my things here until the 8th when I come back to Nashville.

So what’s up with this blog now that the year’s over?
People have been asking me whether or not I’ll continue this blog past the YAV experience. I will not. This blog has been the way that I have communicated this particular experience with people from home and around the church and community. There will probably be three more posts: one probably tomorrow wrapping up my first year with the Campus for Human Development, one following the re-entry retreat at Ghost Ranch, and then a concluding reflection on the experience of this year. Starting a blog for the Campus community is something that will likely be a part of my new responsibilities there, so I’ll keep you posted on that.

NASHVILLE EPIPHANY PROJECT 2006-07

PATRICK HAMMONTREE, CHASIE WALLIS, TARA LENTZ, JEFF MOLES

Family

Sunday was the first of the last three days of NEP. It was a day when we celebrated the special connection we have shared with Second Presbyterian Church this year. We began the day with worship—the last Sunday we’d have our names listed in the bulletin under the church staff column. The experience of our last Sunday together as YAVs would probably have been different just as our last days at work tomorrow would be different if three of the four of us weren’t staying put. But, it was our last day sitting in a row at Second with Patrick, and when any member of the family leaves, it’s tough.

After a great sermon by Annie McClure, the four of us were called to the front to be de-commissioned (that would be the opposite of the commissioning in September, right?). Amy and Annie led a service that included naming what we had contributed to our mission placements and to the church. As I’ve said a lot, this year was somewhat strange in that it was the least involved I have ever been in the church, while at the same time, Second Pres. allowed me to be the most involved in the ministry of Christian faith than I have ever been. It was a stretching experience to take my faith outside church committees and well-ordered worship. The church newsletter lists some of the things the four of us did at Second this year: music, Sunday School teaching, newsletter articles, letter writing campaigns, baby sitting, mission trip chaperoning, house sitting, Room In The Inn volunteering, and lots of fellowshipping.

After worship came the celebration of what I consider to be the most important part of what I took from my experience with the church this year—the family we gained. NEP is the only site in the YAV program that is linked to an individual congregation. In other words, Second is the only church out of the 11,000 in our denomination that sponsors its own Young Adult Volunteer site. Along with that came a natural family. Just today, a woman dropped by a picnic basket full of “traveling food” for us. This is emblematic of the kind of extraordinary support we’ve received from Second from day one. Many of our closest friends from the church trekked over to our driveway yesterday for a reception. Later that night, we went to Jim and Deb Kitchens’ house for a farewell dinner with the church staff, NEP committee, our mentors and Janet Salyer. The only wrinkle in the day was that Susan, our site coordinator who has been an outstanding part of our year, was unable to be with us due to her mother’s death earlier in the week. Despite missing the most important person in our year, we managed to have a great time, sitting around laughing with the church staff after everyone else had left. Second has become a true family for us over the past year.

It is a church that truly calls its members to become active servants in the world. I am so thankful for the wonderful people that call Second Presbyterian in Nashville their church home. What a gift it has been to add Second to my list of church homes, alongside Central Pres. and Trinity Lutheran in Terre Haute, and it’s exciting that I’ll be able to continue to call Second home for a while longer. It’s a remarkable congregation, and we’re all so thankful for everything they’ve done for us.

Our good pal Zach, who could be considered to be the 5th NEP volunteer this year, is moving away too in August--to Indiana. I guess Zach and I are trading states. Good luck to him as he starts at Notre Dame Law School. Between Chasie and Zach is Ariel, who might as well be the 6th NEP volunteer this year. She is serving as Second's youth director through the Center for Youth Ministry Training.

The reception in the driveway -- Janet Hilley, Sue Biddle and John McClure were having a blast!

This is the church's gift to me, presented last night at the dinner. It's a calabash rattle from Cameroon.

"The flowers decorating the sanctuary today were given by the Campus for Human Development in honor of Jeff, Chasie, Tara and Patrick."

The Campus people are nice (at least I liked you until this afternoon...ha.)

Blogging the Campus Values: NON-VIOLENCE

This is the seventh and final piece in a series (see the first, second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth) of blog posts with some guest writers. I have asked some of my co-workers from the Campus for Human Development to write some personal reflections on the seven core values that are contained in our mission statement:


“Through the power of spirituality and the practice of love, the Campus for Human Development provides hospitality with a respect that offers hope in a community of non-violence.”

The culminating core value—the value that the other ones lead to—is Non-Violence. Following words on non-violence by our founding director, Charlie Strobel, Edith shares her thoughts on types of violence and ways to overcome them.

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Charles Strobel:

Our last core value is our most important one, as it relates to our overall vision for the world. Given that our spirituality is the origin for all our life’s actions, without the mission of peacemaking it remains empty and void of true purpose.

Hatred begets violence, and violence begets wars. The world of the homeless is filled with hatred and violence. The Campus defines violence as four-fold: physical, verbal, racial and sexual. We call on everyone—participants, staff and volunteers—to create an atmosphere free of violence of every kind.

The normal response to violence is the discipline and protection of the law. The Campus understands that legal protections are limited and do not always bring justice. What remains for the homeless is a culture of “taking the law into your own hands,” since many believe that they should not suffer injustices passively.

The principles of non-violence are not based on passivity. They are an active force rooted in love and respect. They are counter-cultural. Non-violence believes that love disarms conflicts, deescalates violence, and diffuses hatred.

The Campus can be free of violence out of fear of violence. This is not what the principles of non-violence teach. Martin Luther King’s principles describe a different vision:
-Non-violence is a courageous act practiced by the strongest of people.
-Non-violence never seeks to embarrass or destroy the opponent but calls for better understanding of the other.
-Non-violence is not aimed at “evil” people, but only evil ideas, practices and laws.
-Non-violence requires that one be able to endure suffering without retaliation.
-Non-violence not only resists physical violence, but an internal one as well. It is critical for one to love the enemy or else one’s hatred only contributes to the same evil exerted by the enemy.
-Non-violence believes that the “universe is on the side of justice.” Faith in the future means that the struggle for justice is not in vain.

Although the law allows everyone the right of self-defense, the Campus invites staff and volunteers to embrace the principles of non-violence while at the Campus.

Over the years of our Campus history, these applied principles are responsible for creating a violent-free world within their larger world of violence. Often taken for granted and unmentioned, the sanctuary we provide remains one of our greatest lessons—namely, that people of diverse backgrounds can live together in peace and resolve their differences through reasonable dialogue, not force.

On first coming to the Campus, some may question the value of non-violence and its primary importance at the Campus—wondering even if anyone can practice it. In time, the mystery of living it out is discovered in living out the other six core values. By living out our other six core values, one cannot help but become non-violent, thus creating one’s personal circle of non-violence. Believing in the first six core values leads to a belief in non-violence.

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Guest Blogger: Edith Costanza

I am going to begin with the premise that it is our basic human nature to be violent and it is our “higher self” which seeks non-violence. If I am going to be “non-violent,” to practice “non-violence,” then I need to ask myself some questions and I need to pt into play non-violent strategies for daily living.

Questions: What am I violent toward? Why am I violent toward _________? What are the motives in bringing out my violence?

I can be violent towards environment, infrastructure and people. Quick examples: environment-pollution, infrastructure-tagging, and people-racial epithets. Everyone who’ll read this is intelligent. Do the thinking. Expand the list of reasons, motives and examples.

Strategies: Environment- Join, begin, or support an organization dedicated so some aspect of helping the environment. Infrastructure-Keep your dwelling insulated, build efficient public buildings, restructure and upgrade existing dwellings for more efficient usage. People-Be kind. Don’t gossip, period. Assume the best about people rather than the worst. Be patient in traffic and don’t curse at people in your car. To curse at all is a violent act—small, but violent. Give people your attention. Be more interested in understanding another’s viewpoint, instead of being “right.” Ask him this question: “How did you come to think that about___________?” And then listen and don’t argue the person down. Remember, you’d simply like to know, so you might be able to find common ground.

I think there are many examples of people being non-violent at the Campus. There are people who are extremely positive in their outlook and rarely have anything negative to say about anyone. There are people who are able to diffuse fights with humor and grace. There are people who everyday give the participants the benefit of the doubt.

About me. I just want to say that being an art therapist for the Campus is grace on a daily basis. I love being able to use my creativity and encourage people to explore and/or develop their own artistry. In this context this is enough about who I am. For more info, visit my website at edithcostanza.com.


Edith is the Campus's art therapist. She teaches art classes for the general population and for the men in our Odyssey program. She also led our peace-themed spring staff retreat. One of my favorite memories of the first week I worked at the Campus was getting to go to one of Edith's art classes. She has a way of pulling creativity out of anybody and making people feel relaxed and at home. I always like to stick my head in the art room to see what's going on.

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THANK YOU!

I want to thank everyone from the Campus who took the time to write their reflections on our core values: Fred, Jana, Anneice, Mary, Rachel, Martina, Harry, Charlie, Maggie and Edith. They really turned out well and helped me express what goes on at the Campus every day to those who read from home, Second Pres., and around the Presbyterian Church.

Blogging the Campus Values: LOVE

This is the sixth in a series (see the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth) of blog posts with some guest writers. I have asked some of my co-workers from the Campus for Human Development to write some personal reflections on the seven core values that are contained in our mission statement:

“Through the power of spirituality and the practice of love, the Campus for Human Development provides hospitality with a respect that offers hope in a community of non-violence.”

In this post, following a reflection on love by our founder, Charlie Strobel, Maggie tells about the love she’s experienced in her years of volunteering and working at the Campus and tells about the tranformation of relationships that can happen when love is practiced.

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Charles Strobel:

The Campus for Human Development believes that love is a power that expresses itself in action. There is thought without action and action without thought. Love is divine thought in action. Good intentions without follow-through, as well as thoughtlessness, create additional hardships on anyone in need of the loving support of others. Sometimes permanent solutions and long-term answers are not always available. Sometimes it seems there is never enough to make it—never enough beds, enough food, enough words of comfort. But there is always love. It comes from friends, from the volunteers and staff who are there to take us in when our spirits are drooping. In our weakness love is healing and restorative of our own self-love. Such love begins with an unconditional concern for our well-being. It is liberating for it drives out our fear by encouraging us to believe in our inner worth and beauty. Love keeps us in relationships, rather than leaving us to face our journey alone.

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Guest Blogger: Maggie Jones

To me, the Campus is just an extension of my family- and probably the less nutty side.

My journey with the Campus began in 1992, at the age of eleven. Back then, Sunday nights at Room in the Inn were filled with the love of my family and participants, all of whom I would “grow up” with. Eventually, I moved on to graduate high school, moved off to college, and, ultimately, found my way back to the Campus in October of 2005.

While volunteering at such a young age, I never truly understood the impact that the Campus would have on my life. It is only in the past year and a half that I have come to realize all of the love that surrounds me each day. It is in the smiles we share, the pouring out of hearts, it is even in the pieces of candy and gum that our participants bestow on us at the support desk each morning. One of my favorite examples of is when one of our more gruff participants, whom we all know and love, comes up to me and says, “I remember you when you were this big,” as he hold out his hand, as a proud grandparent might. He is also quick to remind me that if I act out of line that he will “tell my mamma” on me. All of this, not out of disrespect, but because he knows my family, and has a sense of love for us- even though he would die if he ever had to admit to it.

As I write this entry at my desk, there is a quote hanging in front of me which reads: “Everyday we are called to small things with great love.” I posted this where I could see it everyday, so that I may be reminded that it is not the huge milestones or great fetes that I will be remembered for. Rather, it is for the small things; the warm greetings, non-judgmental advice, and the sympathizing ear-this is what the men and women of the Campus will remember me for. Compared with those things, the love, respect and just plain good feelings that I receive back are far more numerous. Any staff person would agree that while we do have off days, we ultimately receive more than we could give here.

One final example I would like to share happened during the Christmas season of 2005. As I and a handful of guys were working on decorating that year’s Christmas tree, a particularly difficult participant approached and asked if he could help. Of course I let him, not wanting to deny anyone the opportunity. I admit that I did have some apprehension. I wasn’t sure if someone would trigger him and he would end up throwing an ornament in a fit of rage, or if I might receive some of his more usual verbal abuse that day. What I received, instead, was an irreplaceable Christmas memory. As we laughed and cut up, I began to see our relationship change, and ultimately a new friendship was born. He doesn’t come around too much anymore, but when he does come, I am able to see a change in him. While I do not take credit for any of this, I do cling to the idea that the small act of love that was shown that winter day has opened wide doors for us both.

These are just two of the many, many, many examples of love played out in everyday life at the Campus.

Maggie is my right-hand woman at the Campus, or maybe it would be more accurate to say that I am her right-hand man. We were both born on December 31, 1980 (I'm a few hours older), and somehow ended up doing the same job at the same place. Maggie and I make a good team because we have very different personalities. As she describes it, she's the spaz, and I'm the laid back one. Maggie's sister worked at the Campus until earlier this year, and her mom just started as a staff member after many years of volunteering. When Maggie's not running around cleaning and organizing things at mach speed, she is very good at working with people, never failing to show love even after people aren't so loving toward her (Maggie will thank me for not citing any recent examples). Of everyone who works at the Campus, Maggie is probably one of the ones most naturally gifted for her particular job.

Blogging the Campus Values: HOPE

This is the fifth in a series (see the first, second, third, and fourth) of blog posts with some guest writers. I have asked some of my co-workers from the Campus for Human Development to write some personal reflections on the seven core values that are contained in our mission statement:

“Through the power of spirituality and the practice of love, the Campus for Human Development provides hospitality with a respect that offers hope in a community of non-violence.”

This post begins with a reflection on hope from our founding director Charlie Strobel. Then, Harry shares some of the ways that he’s brought hope to the Campus community over the years.

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Charles Strobel:

When a person feels “respected,” there is hope. The need to be defensive disappears, and conversations cease to be adversarial and argumentative. Depression results from an inability to wish, to dream, to desire, to yearn, to seek, to hope. Often the homeless come to the Campus with few possessions and devoid of hope. What we want to offer them is hope.

Hope is support on their life-long journey that raises self-expectations. The idea of a “campus” implies that growth, opportunity, learning, change—human development—is possible here. Hope offers the promise of self-discovery that can lead to a new meaning in one’s life.

Not to have hope is both self-defeating and leads to despair. That is why there must be great sensitivity to the conflicts that occur in our midst. Simply enforcing the law restores order but perhaps at a greater cost than achieving some immediate “peace.” In our need to establish a respectful order, we never want to “defeat” a person. The grievance process is rooted in hope. “Upstairs administration” is a path designed in hope. Though disciplined and restrained, no one needs to leave here hopeless, no matter how long it takes to give that message.

Hope always believes in the possible.

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Guest Blogger: Harry Singh

My name is Harry Singh, I was born in Pamona, California on August 27, 1927. I came to the Campus the day after Labor Day 1996. I did volunteer work in 1989 two days a week. I worked the shower program and now I teach an alcohol and drug class. I also interpret for persons who speak Spanish only. I try to instill hope in all the participants and let them know that God loves and has loved them from day one. I have seen many who have gone and its sad, but they have gone to a better place. We here at the Campus are going to do the very best we can for all the participants. With God’s will we cannot fail. With God’s love we will endure.

Harry Singh, about to turn 80, is a member of the day team at the Campus. He leads most of our Alcohol and Drug education classes and works in the day room. He enjoys going out to lunch (usually at Dan's or Fiesta Mexicana with an occassional adventure like RuSan's or the International Market) and eating spicy foods. I can always expect to hear "El Jeff!" when I walk into the same room as Harry. As you can see from the picture, he didn't have to worry about splattering paint on himself at our recent work day.

Rule of Life

It’s hard to believe that the eleven months of NEP have nearly past. One week and a few days from now, Tuesday the 31st, will be the last day of this program that has literally been a night and day commitment since September 2nd of last year. We have already experienced some of the “lasts” of this experience: Patrick had his last day of work with his kids at Preston Taylor Ministries yesterday, we spent the last night together as just the four of us last night and had our last community meal, Janet lit the Christ candle to start our vocational discernment time for the final time last weekend at our end of the year retreat, extinguishing it after we commissioned one another to carry Christ’s light into the world. I said “goodbye, Jesus” after she blew out the candle, and I was promptly told that I didn’t get the point of what we’d just done.

What will be happening for me in the next several weeks? This week will be my last full week of volunteering at work. Patrick will be gone this week on a mission trip with the Jr. High youth group to the Heifer Ranch in Arkansas, so it will be just me and the girls here at the house. Tomorrow, I’ll be substitute organist in church. I was called about that this afternoon, due to a family emerg

ency for our regular organist. I got a subpoena in the mail today to testify in court on Thursday morning, so I will be doing that. Other than that, I’ll be enjoying my final days sitting in my place on the couch, spending time bantering with Tara and laughing at and with Chasie.

Over the last three days of the program, we will be having a reception in our driveway after church and we’ll let interested church members come over to see the place where we’ve been living. That evening, everyone involved in NEP this year—we, our mentors, church staff, NEP committee members and friends—will gather at Susan’s house for a celebratory dinner together. Patrick’s girlfriend Sarah will be coming into town on Monday evening to help him get ready to leave, and Tara’s family will arrive to help her finish the arrangements for the new condo that she and Chasie will be moving into. And on Tuesday night, it will end. Wed

nesday will bring Patrick’s departure. I’ll probably be the last one to start packing, as usual, and I’ll be taking things to the new apartment that my brother Brian and I will be living in.

Speaking of apartment that Brian and I will be living in—I think we might have one! On Wednesday, I paid the deposit for a 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom apartment off West End near Vanderbilt. It is adjacent to Centennial Park, and a look around the corner puts you face to face with Nashville’s replica of The Parthenon.

I plan to drive home to Terre Haute on the 1st or the 2nd. I’ll spend a week there, and then I’ll drive back to Nashville probably on the 8th. On August 9, I’ll be flying with Tara to New Mexico, where we will attend the National Young Adult Volunteers re-entry event at Ghost Ranch. We’ll fly back here on the 12th, and re-entry will become a reality. I will st

art my full-time, paid (wahoo!) employment at the Campus for Human Development on Wednesday, August 15.

That’s what I’ll be doing over the next few weeks. What is probably most important is what goes on within during the final days of this transforming experience. How will I choose to respond to the things I have seen and done since coming to Nashville? How will life be different than it was before?

At our end of the year retreat last weekend at Penuel Ridge, our spiritual director, Janet, shared the practice of developing a rule of life with us. During a three hour period of silent reflection, we were to think about what things might go into our rule of life, which is a basic framework for an individual’s spiritual development. These can become the basis of a life that is connected to God: study, quiet, prayer, service, worship. These are the things that can sustain us for the long haul. Living in a program is easy, compared to living a rule of life in a world that so often makes spiritual living a challenge.

Blogging the Campus Values: HOSPITALITY

This is the fourth in a series (see the first, second, and third) of blog posts with some guest writers. I have asked some of my co-workers from the Campus for Human Development to write some personal reflections on the seven core values that are contained in our mission statement:

“Through the power of spirituality and the practice of love, the Campus for Human Development provides hospitality with a respect that offers hope in a community of non-violence.”

In this post, Rachel Hester talks about the southern hospitality she has experienced in her life. Rachel’s piece is preceded by a reflection on hospitality by the Campus’s founding director, Charlie Strobel.

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Charles Strobel:

This is the initial grace of the Campus for Human Development—what we hope people first experience when they come to the Campus. What people need to not only survive, but to thrive, is a safe environment that contains relationships that are loving, full of learning and provide healing. If I have these kinds of interlocking relationships—that are truly gifts—then I have, at least, a good chance to take care of myself. Maybe I can go into my world and find housing and employment and contribute as a member of society.
This is where the Campus for Human Development begins, with this understanding.

Think about the word hospitality for a minute. When we have everything we need in life, then hospitality conjures up images of someone who entertains us graciously, someone who invites us for a lovely dinner and makes us feel that it would be no trouble at all to spend the night. It is a host who who’s interested in our stories, laughs at our jokes, keeps our secrets.

Hospitality is a skill that we especially pride ourselves on in the south. But the craving for hospitality, the desire for the dignity it brings to the guest, is no less among the poor. The homeless remind us that the root word for graciousness is, indeed, grace.

What we strive for at the Campus is a kind of hospitality that does not become tired. The homeless need listeners, people to hold their secrets. They need a place that is safe enough to find healing and forgiveness so that they can learn how to move on with their lives. Of course, this never happens on our schedule. As one of our oldest staff members says, “People change not in our time, but in God’s time.” We need to offer them that much time, at no cost, just like any gracious host would do.

When someone experiences hospitality and safety and a feeling of belonging, they experience sanctuary. Sanctuary is defined by the people, not the space. Everyone can become an expression of sanctuary. Ultimately, sanctuary offers one an experience of something sacred, something holy.

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Guest Blogger: Rachel Hester

Some of my favorite childhood memories are the times I would spend with my granny in Holt, Alabama. Often times her house was filled with more folks than the dinner table could hold. I can count my times at the “grown up’s table” on one hand. At night the house was so full that I slept in the baby bed until I was 8.

Being a mother of 9 and a grandmother of 23 it wasn’t often that one could steal quiet moments with her alone. I cherish those late nights watching Johnny Carson with a slice of pound cake and milk, getting ready for church and using her Aqua Net hair spray, and swinging on the porch to the cadence of her old sewing machine.

My grandmother has been gone for a little over a year.
As I step back from those moments of loss I realize how grateful I am for the gifts that they gave me. Not gifts of value such as china and jewelry but seeds that were planted and nurtured to help me become the person I am. I realize now that I am growing older that she taught me a lot more to being a southern lady than ice cream socials and hoop skirts.

• She taught me to always be kind to a stranger
• Always smile
• It is nice to wave or say hello to people who cross your paths
• Learn folks names when you can
• Take time to encourage someone going through a difficult time
• Let folks know they are welcome to drop by when they can
• Use your yes mam’s and no mam’s
• There is always room for one more at the dinner table
• Remember, no one has to know the good you do for someone else – you only have what you give away


Hospitality is receiving and entertaining stranger generously and kindly. It has to do with her heart. Granny showed hospitality to her neighbors effortlessly. Not just her geographic neighbors but to all she came in contact with. Whether making her ambrosia for someone going through a difficult time, or always having a fresh pound cake sitting on the dryer in the kitchen as if it were just waiting for the next person who brought their clothes to be altered or a neighbor stopping by to talk.

Hospitality is merely ordinary people who go the extra mile to live life with dignity, style, and class in today’s hustle and bustle world. Hospitality can be difficult and at times tiresome, or even cause others to look at us strangely. There are moments that hospitality isn’t the easiest option. But it gives us an opportunity to practice our faith and experience God in a different way.

Last season, I learned from many volunteers that Room In The Inn was an opportunity of service that they chose because they knew that it was the grace of God that kept them from the streets due to poverty or addiction. Some mentioned that they had members of their own families on the street and hoped that the work they did was equal to the work that someone else had done in order to help that loved one. Some themselves had been homeless – even coming through the Room In The Inn Program and now was their opportunity to give back.

We never know how our efforts will be used.

We will begin our 23rd season of Room In The Inn on November 1st. There will be moment throughout the season that w e will share tears, laughs, joyful news, and some despair, sometimes even questioning ourselves about why we do what we do all awhile hoping that what we do is etched upon their heart, hoping that they know that when in need of refuge, not just from the elements we will be her. A place where they can be accepted for who they are at that moment. A place where volunteers are willing to share in their joys and their sorrows. A place for them to be themselves. A place of hospitality.

Rachel is the executive director of the Campus for Human Development. She took over after Charlie Strobel’s retirement a few years ago. Rachel spends her winter evenings as a Room In The Inn Coordinator. She recently began the adventure of parenting, with the adoption of Austin. Rachel is well respected by everyone at the Campus for her relaxed yet confident style of leadership and her sense of fun.

If God's people work in God's world...

The new NEP promotional video is finished! Susan received some money for promotion of the program which has been used to make this fantastic video, starring Susan, the four of us from this year, plus Chandra (last year's YAV) and Sam (a YAV from the group two years ago who is still around).

There are a few quirks. On the DVD I uploaded there are these subliminal message type frames with the word "unrendered" flashing between lots of the scenes.

Another quirk is that there is footage on here that is supposed to be the Campus and it is not, unless they found some room with round tables that I have never seen and some homeless people that I have never met.

Here it is...just click play to watch the video.

Blogging the Campus Values: COMMUNITY

This is the third in a series (see the first and second) of blog posts with some guest writers. I have asked some of my co-workers from the Campus for Human Development to write some personal reflections on the seven core values that are contained in our mission statement:

“Through the power of spirituality and the practice of love, the Campus for Human Development provides hospitality with a respect that offers hope in a community of non-violence.”

The core value in this post is community. As usual, Founding Director Charlie Strobel’s comments are posted first, then Martina compares the sense of community found at the Campus to experiences of her past. I follow up with an un-planned contribution to our thoughts about community.

DISCLAIMER: If you are my mom or grandmother, or someone who is like a mother to me, please enjoy reading Martina’s nice post. You might want to skip the part of the post that I wrote. Same goes for any potential Young Adult Volunteers who might be considering coming to Nashville to work at the Campus. For people who fit this description, it’s truly a lovely place where we just sit around a hug one another all day while singing camp songs with the underprivileged.

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Charles Strobel:

Everyone agrees that “no man is an island.” Often the homeless have isolated themselves on their own island with no connection home. Community offers the sanctuary of a spiritual home. This concept is not defined by blood since blood relatives can hate each other. A community provides the security of belonging somewhere. Such an experience is supportive and respectful through acceptance, understanding, growth, wisdom and reconciliation. Communities share common interests, goals and responsibilities. A community model is not the same as a democratic model, a prison model, or a military model, but more like a familial or tribal model where kin and kind are bound in relationships of love. This spiritual force unites the diverse personalities and calls forth commitment to one another as a priority.

For the homeless, this invitation is the most challenging, as they seek to do whatever is necessary to survive. Having many failed relationships in their families, education and employment, they legitimately may wonder if they can ever live within community.

Looking to the future, the obstacles they face require so much courage and determination from them that they often “give up,” appearing resigned and hopeless. Thus, they can be mistaken, on the surface, as “choosing” their lifestyle. When failure is so prevalent in their past, success is difficult to imagine. Here is where the Campus must model relationships among staff and volunteers in such a way that the homeless actually enjoy being here. When they feel our warm hospitality welcoming them, they can begin again to feel what it means to belong.

The Room In The Inn congregations are vital in providing them a sense of belonging. Vending machines can feed them, but only people can share with them a sense of community. As our homeless guests experience this night after night, our day services become the extension of that nightly hospitality. Although our interactions may take a bit longer, sharing our own love is primary, even though sometimes it can be difficult. “Joe, it is so great to see you,” is a simple yet powerful preamble to “how can I help you?” or “what is it that you need?”

Over time, we have heard people return to the Campus, not simply for services, as desperate as they may be, but to say “hello’” or to tell us that they did not feel they belonged anywhere else.

Of all the compliments the Campus has received over the years, hearing someone say that—that this is the only place where they feel they belong—is perhaps the greatest and the most humbling.

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Guest Blogger: Martina Condron



Jeff had hinted to me that he had selected me as one of his co-workers he was asking to write about the Campus’ core values. I was not sure which value Jeff would pick for me and restrained myself from offering him a suggestion. So when I got community it was the one value I would not have suggested for me. I began to think and reflect about what community means to me and how it has shaped my life.



Growing up we had a Parish Hall/Community Center, it was located in the basement of our new church, built in 1972 it came with all the mod cons. It consisted of a large room with a stage, rooms behind the stage for actors that doubled as mini conference/meeting rooms, bathroom facilities and a concession stand. The center was open seven days a week and served everyone in the congregation and neighbors. It provided space for senior coffee mornings, women’s groups, all types of classes and group meetings, girl guides, scouts, basketball, indoor soccer, Irish dancing lessons the list goes on and our youth club. Especially for youth of that time it was a safe space away from playing on the streets. Families tended to be larger and homes smaller leaving no other place but the streets to play in. Looking back I am not even sure who organized/arranged for volunteers to always be around teaching classes, encouraging and mentoring us. Whoever it was did a wonderful job at finding volunteers who where excellent role models, who where loving and giving of their time and talents and who really, really wanted to work with us. I also did not realize then that what we had in that youth group was a community.



The Campus is a lot like that community center and our programs are a lot like the classes we attended. Staff and volunteers at both centers have similar traits, understanding, encouragement, maturity and equality. In both places a person feels safe, secure, cared for and loved. In both places a person is expected to ‘participate’ to their own level. The expectation is that everyone be their best and do their best.





Martina, a native of Ireland, heads up the Campus's development team. That team...well, I'm not completely sure what they do, but I know it has to do with money, answering the phone, and coordinating volunteers. She also spends many of her winter evenings coordinating Room In The Inn. She also uses several phrases that we're not that used to in America, like "mod cons."

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Not-Much-of-a-Guest Blogger: Jeff Moles

Sometimes things become so clear that it’s like they hit you on the head. The sense of community that we share at the Campus between both staff and participants became apparent to me in a new way today when I was on the receiving end of an attack with a not-so-deadly weapon.

Today, as we were preparing for our regular Thursday lunch, I was called outside by another staff member to talk with some gentlemen who were drinking on our property. While I was outside in the parking lot, a different man, Joe, approached me and started talking. It was pretty evident that he had been doing some drinking, which is not unusual for this gentleman, who also suffers from mental illness. I offered him a place to stay at the Guest House, which is our safe space for the publicly intoxicated, but he was unwilling to leave his garbage bag full of empty beer cans outside. He wasn’t allowed into the Guest House since he wasn’t being compliant with the simple things being asked of him. On his way out, he stopped to beat on the windows of the Guest House, calling my coworker inside every name in the book. He seemed to calm down a little as he and I walked together to the alley so I could make sure he was leaving the property. As we stood at the alley, and I once again reminded him that he needed to leave, I turned to answer a question from one of the men from the earlier incident. As I was speaking, BAM!, Joe took his bag of empty cans and flung it to hit me on the back of the head. Now, fortunately, he didn’t hit me with a bag of full cans, or anything other than empty cans, so the blow wasn’t bad enough that it hurt me, but it was still pretty forceful. After taking about a half second to think about what had just happened, I told Joe that I was calling the police, so he started to lumber down the alley. Fortunately I wasn’t put on hold when I called 911 this time, but it did take about 20 minutes for the police to arrive, which made me thankful that he wasn’t still beating up on me.

So, how am I going to manage twisting getting whacked in the head with a garbage bag full of empty beer cans into a story about community? The community was found in the response. The first thing I remember seeing after realizing that I had just gotten hit and that I was in danger was the group of guys from the treatment program over at the clinic next door with shocked looks on their faces, walking toward me. I also remember hearing a pretty big gasp from the group of participants who were waiting outside to be called in for lunch. It blew me away how many people were ready to come to my aid and probably beat poor Joe up on my behalf. I motioned for the guys from the clinic to stay where they were, and I kept the other participants calm while he left. For homeless people in downtown Nashville thinking of me as one of their own, and having them be willing to risk themselves for me is not something I ever imagined would happen. The guys in treatment could have risked being kicked out of the program and their own recovery if they would have intervened physically. Numerous participants came to me to make sure I was alright the rest of the day. The staff also made sure I was alright—Martina and Rachel raced downstairs when I told them what happened, even though they really didn’t need to.

John’s gospel records Jesus saying “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” That is the very essence of community: sacrifice for one’s friends, sharing, being served by those I’m supposed to be serving. How fortunate I’ve been to be a part of such a community.





Jeff is me. When he's not being hit over the head with bags of aluminum cans, Jeff works on the education team, working at the support desk most of the morning. He teaches Internet and computer classes for Odyssey and the general population, and anger management for the men in the DTC treatment program. He will be a Young Adult Volunteer for less than three more weeks, and then he will look forward to receiving paychecks on a somewhat regular basis. As he told his superiors, his injuries from the canning incident today have probably affected his ability to think properly, which includes alphabetization, so he will no longer be able to sort the mail. (Rachel's overhead page to Jeff this afternoon: "Jeff, if you can make your way to a phone by yourself, dial 129...Jeff, if you are able to hear this message clearly, please dial 129." Jeff's answer: "Hello? Hello? I think I'm hearing voices!") It is strange to write in third person.

Festive Fourth

There were lots of fun things going on this past week. Patrick's girlfriend Sarah came in from Texas to surprise him on Tuesday. On the Fourth of July, I worked from 6:00-10:00am, which included running the showers, showing the DVD of "Man on Fire," and eating breakfast at the Guest House. In the evening, we had a cookout and then went to watch the fireworks at the Campus. Strangely enough, we were the only people I saw who went to a homeless shelter to watch fireworks. We enjoyed our visit with the guys in the DTC treatment and VA residential programs.



Friday, the entire Campus community, including staff, participants, and volunteers, joined to have our annual picnic and carnival. A group from the Catholic Heart Workcamp had been with us all week, and this event was the culmination of their experience. We enjoyed food, live music, and games in the parking lot.

Jonathan, Dale, Eric and RITI volunteer Al enjoy themselves.

Ray's cotton candy matched his beard pretty well.

The ice cream sandwiches were leftovers from the Second Pres. dedication Sunday.

Our newest staff member, Wendy, was a pro at cotton candy making.

The band was from Woodmont Hills Church of Christ. It was a tad ironic, since the Church of Christ does not believe in using instrumental music in worship.

The alley became a playground, if only for a few hours.