Normal does not mean OK

 

I often wonder how I live such a normal life. I know they say that “normal” is only a setting on the dryer, but you know what I mean. I have a beautiful person I love with whom I share a house, a family, and even our ministry. Basically, what often feels like a charmed life is an ordinary life in which many good things happen. There have been bad things also yet I am surrounded by loving support. I hear so many stories from people whose lives do not seem charmed and who are not surrounded by love and support. I honestly do not know how they make it. But how do I carry these sacred stories and remain in this delusional sense of "normal"? Because that is definitely not OK.

At Pantry last week, a mother with an adorable 4 year old son came to get groceries. The two of them appeared like a normal mom and child yet I soon found out that they are living in her car because her husband filed for divorce and kicked her and the boy out last November. He kept two of their children and filed for child support. Her IRS return was garnished as was and is her paycheck. Each month she must pay $1000 in child support all the while unable to afford to take care of the little one she has with her. She has tried countless days in a row to get a referral from 2-1-1 for Gateway 180, a shelter for women and children in St. Louis. I tried. I reached out to people I know who can often get people into special places. They had no luck. There was no room anywhere for her and this little boy. What is OK about this story?

On Sunday, a 30-something woman came to me asking if I can help her get furniture for the apartment she was temporarily sharing with her brother. If she could get furniture, she could get her children back from their paternal grandmother with whom DFS had placed them temporarily. That was just the surface story of her problems.

The longer she talked the faster she told the story. She and her children were renting an upstairs apartment from an older man. He had hired her to be his caregiver. She quickly found out that he wanted her to give him half of the income she received as his care giver in exchange for rent. From what I could understand, he also wanted more than money. It ended up in a physical fight and she received a black eye. When the police came after she called them, they told her that they could arrest her for attacking the man. The social workers from family services were called and her children were taken from her. She was confused as to what she had done wrong and terrified she would never see her children again. The grandmother told her that she planned to hand the children over to their father, the same father who had kidnapped them and kept them for three years. Their mother had only had them back for the last few months. You can't make this stuff up.

Sunday was a two-for-the-price-of-one day. I met a very young woman for the first time. She asked if we had any feminine pads and she wondered if I had a pair of pants. I suppose this is a common enough story to which most women can relate. Meanwhile, the rest of the story, this precious young woman who is about 5’1” and weighs maybe 100 lbs told me she is homeless. She apologetically asked if I had a backpack or a sleeping bag. I almost lost it as I realized she had a big bruise under her left eye. She saw my face as my hands sort of cupped her face. She said, “Ms. Barbi, please don’t cry because if you do, I will.” She then comforted me that she was going to be ok, that everything would work out. 

There is not a goddamn thing ok about women and little children living on the streets. We claim to be a “great” country, but we are actually a stiff-necked people who are willfully ignorant because it allows us to wrongly think none of this could happen to us. Out of sight out of mind. It allows us to think that we are normal when in reality, those of us who live lives in comfort and perceived safety are actually the abnormal ones. We are OK, not normal.

How can I be OK, knowing the horror stories of so many people? These are only three sacred stories I have heard in the past 5 days. How many have I heard in 10 years? How many have I turned into a beautiful story to share with the readers to evoke compassion, to get people to do something? I keep thinking that if I share these stories that it will make a difference in the hearts of those who read them. I keep thinking that I might make a difference.

These are not happy stories. I may call them sacred stories but these are tragic tales. Maybe the outcome will be good. Maybe the young woman is right. Maybe they all will be ok and everything will work out. Maybe all I am is a story-teller and that is my task.

Maybe. Yet even as I believe that Jesus is always with me, Jesus being with me as I get slammed in the face with a man’s fist or tossed out of an apartment or trying to find a place to safely sleep outside doesn’t really make that terror go away. Maybe in hindsight. Maybe there is comfort in believing. But what I know is that all our lives would be better if we cared that there are women with and without children living in dire circumstances being asked to do any number of things just so that their lives might continue. Our lives would be better if we really knew what Jesus meant when he said that we are to love one another. 

Normal or abnormal, it is very difficult to believe that we strive to be One in the Body of Christ when we ignore that people are out there in the elements, hungry, wet, cold, and scared and we do nothing. There is no love in willful ignorance.

Normal is not ok. 

The essence of Tucker

I found this essay while looking for something else. It brought a smile to my heart to remember how inquisitive Tucker was, how SO Alive he was! This is from June 2009, a month after he turned 13, a few short years before he would die so unexpectedly in June 2021.

Tucker is one of those types of kids that drive some adults crazy…me, being one of them. He has to touch everything, turn every knob, open every drawer, push every button, open anything that is closed (funny how he never closes anything that is opened though…). He has been that way all of his life. We thought that he would grow out of it as he got older. Here he is at 13 and nothing is sacred to him, most of all, those things that irritate me.

He has no need of personal space so he has absolutely no understanding of those who do. In fact, he is often wounded by those who demand that he back off just a little bit. Reminders do little but quell the momentary action. As soon as a parental back is turned, fingers go to fiddling with whatever is there. We have to hide the pens that we really like because if he has one of them for more than a couple of minutes, the clip is broken off or it is taken apart with all the insides disappearing.

It really is a chore trying to curtail these actions. When he was little, we tried for a little while the hands in pockets trick while we were in a store. Well, the only thing that happened with that was us saying every few minutes, “hands in your pockets!” We became the irritants rather than him. Within moments of any entry we made into any store, the shoppers and workers alike knew Tucker’s name.

One of the biggest problems that he has in school is that his teachers are constantly saying, “Tucker…”, “Tucker…” for one thing or a dozen. Soon the other students in the class pick up on it and it becomes a “Tucker did it…” type of blame game whether he actually did anything or not.

So, Thursday morning, while reading the Daily Office, this popped out at me. In fact, it screamed.

“If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the universe, why do you live as if you still belonged to the world? Why do you submit to regulations, Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch? All these regulations refer to things that perish with use, they are simply human commands and teachings. These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-imposed piety, humility, and severe treatment of the body, but they are of no value in checking self-indulgence.” Colossians 2:20 - 22

When I read it, I immediately thought of this child of ours to whom rules and regulations mean very little.

Tucker is by no means the only child I know who is like this. I think it is safe to say by looking at the statistics on Attention Deficit Disorder and Hyperactivity that we, as a nation, are in the process of bringing up a really large number of these children. But I wonder how many of these kids are truly “disordered”?

Maybe, as the author of Colossians points out, we should question our own actions. Just what we are doing by labeling our children as disordered. Perhaps it is not something that is wrong with them…perhaps it is merely “an appearance of wisdom” on our part.

For if we do claim to be “with Christ” how do we continue to live a life of human regulations that possibly inhibit the Spirit from working with us? Our rules of do not, do not, do not, are human commands and teachings. Do these rules matter to God or in living our lives to the glory of God?

There are several layers to this concern: If we want to go with the idea that these children are “disordered” then why so many? What have we done to create this “disorder”? What is in our environment, our food, our clothes, our water that could cause such vast numbers of attention deficit children? Supposedly, approximately 2 million children in the US have been diagnosed with ADHD.

And if there are that many, what does that mean in terms of how we deal with them? Do we medicate them or not? What if they are not really ADHD; rather, what if they are kinesthetic learners who have need of gross motor movement in order to learn best? There is a fine line in distinguishing the difference between ADHD and a learning style. It is estimated that 15% of the population are kinesthetic learners.

What are we willing to do to our children to make them mind? Are we prepared to subject them to “severe treatment of the body”…for what is a mind altering drug but a severe treatment? Yes, these drugs do help in many cases of ADHD but at what cost? Further, the drugs are just band aids, dealing with the symptoms rather than the cause. What is the cause? Or even more importantly, what is the real problem?

We want life to be simple. I can’t see that it ever has been so, not even in the nostalgic era of the 50’s – James Dean and Tennessee Williams are just two examples of the angst that existed in some. Life is not simple. It is fast and harried and in the midst of all the rush-rush, lonely. We want answers and quick fixes. We want solutions that cause the least amount of worry and pain.

What are we willing to accept for our children for the sake of expediency?

For whose quality of life are we most concerned?

Might we be called into an analysis of our own way of dealing with certain things? Might it be a time when we are called into changing our own ways?

The Unexpectedness of God

 Sermon offered at Trinity Episcopal - St Louis, January 14, 2024: Second Sunday after the Epiphany

It has been too long since I last stood before you. August 2022 to be precise. I often feel like Paul with his epistles, reaching out to you in the E-times, hoping you read the words I write, hoping to elicit a deep longing within you by sharing the sacred stories of the people who come to Pantry & Hot Lunch. Writing is good but it is better to be here in person with you.

For those who do not know, I am Barbi Click, Deacon, Diocesan Missioner of Jubilee Ministry, and Manager of Trinity Food Ministry. My primary focus as deacon, as Missioner, and as Manager of TFM is to bring the concerns of this world to you while enticing you to become engaged, to “Come and see” what new things God is making for us and with us in this ministry that is such a vital part of this parish. It may be a 50-year-old ministry, yet every week brings a newness to this place. It is not what it was just as it is not what it will be.

As a Jubilee Ministry Center, we are a place where mutual ministry happens. We are not alone. TFM thrives because it is an inter-religious, inter-relational ministry. There are 6 Episcopal parishes, 3 other denominations, 1 non-denomination, a synagogue, a construction company, and several local businesses, not to forget all the individuals near and far who volunteer, contribute money or material donations each month.

In addition to all of this, and more importantly, the people who allow us to help – they offer us their trust, their fellowship. We could not do this without them.

Can you imagine what you might have to set aside to ask strangers for help? I clearly remember one woman years ago. She was so arrogant and demanding that she set the volunteers in a frenzy each time she came to the Pantry. One day, I happened to glance up and to see her outside the glass doors. She stood there for a few seconds, pulled her shoulders back, raised her head, and she walked in as if she owned the place. At that moment, I did not see her arrogance. I saw a proud woman who set aside her pride as she prepared to enter into that place filled (at the time) with a bunch of privileged white women as she, a Black Woman, came seeking their assistance for her most basic human need. Can you imagine what she had to set aside to walk through those doors?

Each event in our lives – whether it is a difficult or easy moment, offers an opportunity for an unexpected encounter with the Divine. In those few seconds before she walked in, I had a very unexpected encounter with the Divine. I saw this woman as I had never seen her before. It changed me; therefore, it changed our relationship for the better.

It isn’t always easy yet … the willingness to be present in the moment offers unexpected opportunities to see what we might not otherwise see.

Samuel is just a boy, he expects little. Maybe approval from Eli, enough food to eat, a place to sleep. Yet he is alert. He hears a voice. Thinking Eli is calling him, Samuel responds to him. Even as he does not yet know God, God knows him … Eli tells Samuel to wait, to listen, and to respond when he next hears the voice. “Speak Lord for your servant is listening.”

Nathanael expects nothing or even less – after all, what prophet much less a messiah had ever come from Nazareth? Philip invites him to “Come and see.”

Jesus greets Nathanael by exclaiming “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” And he questions Jesus, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus says, I saw you under the fig tree, the tree of abundance.

I have found no theological explanation that adequately satisfies my questions as to why Nathanael suddenly realizes that Jesus is the Son of God, the King of Israel simply because Jesus sees him and makes a character assessment. Regardless of my lack, Jesus’ word let Nathanael know that he was indeed known, understood, and seen.

To be known – to be understood – to be seen.

How often do you feel invisible or misunderstood, even as you may feel righteous in your stance? Have you diverted your eyes from looking at a person directly when you were mad at them? Or do you throw up a firewall to keep others out of your heart and head? Or have you diverted your eyes so as not to acknowledge another’s existence? – We all have at one point.

As a society, we are quite awful about ignoring those things that make us uncomfortable, or that we do not wish to see, or know, or understand.  

In Divinity School I took a Womanist Theology class, and without a doubt, it was THE most challenging and life-changing course I ever took. In the first week of class, the professor paired us, had us stand about a foot apart, face to face. The task was to look into each other’s eyes for a set number of minutes. I stood in front of a woman I didn’t know. Surely we were both a little bit defiant as if it was a staring contest and whoever blinked first lost. I assume this because that was how I felt. We glared/stared at one another for a bit and then … something changed. I realized the color of her eyes was a very dark rich brown, so dark I could hardly see her pupils. Yet within her eyes, I could see my reflection. Suddenly, the glaring was replaced by what felt like a deep look of longing, as if I was invited in, fully welcomed or not, inviting me into her soul. I can only assume that she saw the same in me. Suddenly our time was up, and it felt almost embarrassing how close we had been for those few moments. As if we knew each other in an intimate and personal way, as if we had been what Julian of Norwich and theologian Richard Rohr called “Oneing.” While it was uncomfortable, this life lesson taught me that the eyes are indeed the pathway to understanding, to knowing.

Yada is the Hebrew word to know, to be known. It is intimate and personal. To be known by God is an intimate experience. To be known, to know others is just as intimate and personal.

We see what we want to see. Sometimes we are surprised by seeing what we never expected. That is an unexpected encounter with the divine.

In my letters to the parish in the E-times, I often use the phrase “Come and see” as a way to invite you to be more personally involved in the life of TFM. In particular, the Wednesday Cafe. I must admit, it is not what most would call a very exciting encounter. Regardless, it is engaging.

On Wednesday, those of us who are “regulars” have come to know that George, aka “Woody” will come and sometimes share his newest art that he makes from scrap wood he finds. Or that Susie will arrive 30 minutes before it’s time to close, that she loves the desserts that Cathy Tierney makes, and always wants to take an extra cup of Lisa Carpenter’s soup home with her. And if it isn’t raining, Mike will show up. We never know when Phil will be there until we see him, yet we do know that he loves food – any food, all food. And he loves to converse!

This is just a snapshot of those who stop by to sit a little while, enjoy a little food and fellowship. It is an ordinary time full of extraordinary moment. Little is expected of anyone yet we all receive so much. Sometimes, there is an unexpectedness moment that reminds us that a precious bit of insight into someone’s personal life has been shared. It might never have been had we not been present, simply there, together.

Eli told Samuel to listen, to be present, to respond. To be ready to say, Here I am. I am listening. For me, that is Wednesday Café – we offer our presence, our willingness to listen. And then we wait just in case.

As followers of Jesus, we are called into his beloved community. It isn’t always comfortable and can be quite difficult. It may feel like a burden or a challenge. Yet, within every burden there is a gift. Within every challenge there is a treasure.

In one of Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. He notes that Jesus “focuses on the way we do life AND do life with and for our neighbor.” It is not enough to just show up on Sunday. Life happens all week long. Rohr continues, “The soul is refined in engagement, in relationship, in doing, in connecting.”

It is ALWAYS about relationship. We cannot connect with people we don’t know or understand if we are not present, or if we do not allow them into our presence.

Offering a ministry for those who are classified as “the working poor” can be seen as requiring little. Give food; it’s done. It’s rather easy to be engaged in works of charity without understanding the reasons why the charity is needed. Yet what about those who are more clearly “the least of these?”

Can anything good come from people who are homeless, have felony records, have trauma induced substance abuse disorders, who no place to lay their heads, or are freezing to death as I speak? I say yes. A great deal of good is present within those who suffer from these conditions. A great deal of good can be available for us if we recognize the unexpected goodness of God.

A bigger question is: Can anything good come from me and you if we lower our eyes, turn away from or ignore the needs of those who lack the basic human needs of clean water, air, good food, safety, shelter, sleep? If we care more for stray animals than we do for our siblings who have strayed or been cast out?

To know is to love. To love is to know. We will never know nor love fully if we are not willing to be present. While we cannot help but be in this world, we, as followers of Jesus, cannot be OF this world.

It is easy to shuffle Paul off to the side, to ignore what may seem like his fornication rantings. Yet what he is saying is that as we strive for a deeper spiritual life with God, there is an intimacy that unites us with the Holy Spirit, therefore we are a temple, a sacred space. We may be IN this capitalism-run-amok, Love deprived, fear-filled world yet we must KNOW that we cannot be OF this world as long as God is with us, and in us.

The sacred stories of this food ministry matter – not just in bragging rights to share for the next rector and the world to see. These matter because these are the sacred stories of people just like you and me yet whose lives are confounded by incredible traumas and injustices, whose basic needs are denied and whose human rights are constantly obstructed. They are fellow siblings in Christ, and we, as their siblings, can do something about the world we live in. It is not enough that TFM is there; we must know why there is a need for the work.

As a Jubilee Ministry Center, meeting the basic human needs of people is only one part of our purposes. Relationship is another. And out of that relationship, our understanding that advocacy is vital. The mandate of Jubilee Ministry is to act as a network to engage with joint discipleship in Christ with and for poor and oppressed people, wherever they are found, to meet basic human needs, and to build a just society. Relationship. Charity. Advocacy.

It means that Jesus is always there and so are we – whether it is in sharing a meal, offering groceries, or using our privilege to speak out in our City, our State to demand basic human needs be met for all of our brothers and sisters, our siblings.

There is much work to do, both in that South Parish Hall, in City Hall, and in the halls of our state government. It takes all of us and it demands that we remember, to know or be known takes a willingness to see and love beyond our understanding, even beyond our human frailties and limitations.

I invite you to Come and See what good and new things God is making with us and for us. Come and see and let’s change the world, one love at a time. Amen.