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.