Have You Seen Joan?

July 24, 2011
Romans 8:26-39
Year A
6th Sunday after Pentecost
Repreach of “Have You Seen Joan?”


Romans: grace, predestination, the love of God

It was something in the book of Romans that converted the heart of John Wesley. He had been a Christian all of his life, his parents were Christians. His father, an Anglican priest. His grandfathers on both sides were Christians. He was a priest himself, he was a teacher an organizer. He was devoted to his faith, until he went out into the world and realized that no everyone had the same faith he did. In the weakest moment of his life, he went to a bible study and heard the words of romans. And as he puts it, his heart was strangely warmed. He realized that his Christian faith was not about how many of his relatives where Christian, or about how many times he had read the bible, or even about how many times he had failed in his Christian task. Salvation was in Christ alone. Salvation was not about what he did, but about what Jesus did for him. He realized that the only way to experience the love of God, is to experience Christ for yourself.
Romans 8:29 says: for those whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his son. Verse 30 says and those whom he predestined, he also called, and those whom he called, he also justified, and those whom he justified, he also glorified.
When the love of God is present in our lives, everything that happens good or bad is for the glory of God. and there is nothing, but our own unawareness, that can separate us from the love of God.
Interestingly enough – the word predestined is a big debate within the church. A large part of the church believes that this verse means that our destiny has already been decided since before we were born. And ironically John Wesley is intentionally on the other side of that debate. He believed very strongly that there is nothing about our destiny that is ever final. There is always space in our lives for change and transformation.
No matter how long we have been going to church – or not, not matter how much we give to the church or not, no matter how far down the road to sin we may be, there is always a chance that Christ is going to intercede in our lives and give us a change to turn back around.
And it is not about us- it is the grace of god. we didn’t earn it, or pay for it, it is a free gift from God.
John Wesley did not believe in predestination, because he believed that grace could change the course of our lives at any time.

How I ended up in the shelter

That moment of grace came for me about 21 years ago now. I was a senior at Northwestern University. I had started out in the journalism program, one of the best in the country. Yet it seemed that school was not fulfilling for me. When I looked at my grades, I knew that I could do much better than I was doing. I was at a period of questioning in my life, I was searching for meaning. This had been a very busy time in my life, a lot was going on. In my search for answers, I had even changed my major to religion. But things were still not right, I was still not happy.
I had one quarter left before I would graduate. And looking into the darkness of the future, I had no idea of what I was going to do next. More importantly, I did not have the energy to find out. I was tired of working to pay my tuition, tired of having papers to write, and frankly, just plain tired of dealing with the red tape of life. So, on the day that I had to move out of my rented room for the summer, instead of registering for my last quarter of school, I put my things in storage and checked into a homeless shelter.
The Shelter Experience
The shelter at First Baptist church in Evanston had room for 30 people. 25 men and 5 women. This was a shelter for adults, so most women would have to go somewhere else with their children. So usually, not all of the women’s beds were filled. We called the shelter, Hilda’s place, because Hilda was the director. We were allowed to stay for three months as long as we followed the rules. We had to check into the shelter every night by 10:30 pm. There was no drinking, smoking or fighting with the other guest. And you had to be ready to leave the shelter by 7 in the morning. We called the shelter, Hilda’s place after the director.
I must have been there about a month and a half, when Joan moved in. She was from Milwaukee. She was 34 years old, with 2 children. As I got to know her, I learned that she had some mental issues, as well as being addicted to cocaine and alcohol
When you checked into the shelter at night, the first thing we would do is have a meal and get to know one another, the first question that you would be asked, was so what is your sad story. Everybody here got a sad story – what’s yours. There was always some sad reason that we were there. Joan was a journalist, very intelligent and very articulate. She lived a very happy life with her two children in their own house. As her life unraveled, she lost everything, and ended up in Chicago.
After three months when it was time for us to move out of the shelter, Joan and I were given a transitional apartment. We could live for free, but we had to work and to save up our money to be able to make a deposit on an apartment.

On the outside looking in
During this time, I went on with my daily activities. Went to work, went to social events at school, hung out at the library. But I felt that I had gained a whole new perspective on life. Today, we hear and talk a lot about homelessness. And we have an image of who homeless people are and how we should deal with them.
I listened to a lot of conversations on homelessness, and how we as a society should deal with it. Perhaps, if we had enough jobs, or enough people to help, everyone would have a place to go. Or perhaps is we could just raise the self esteem of people and teach them a better way of life, everything would be okay.
But the explanations that we make up, don’t always fit the reality of the people and their stories. There were a lot of times when I felt that I was an alien, listening to the thoughts of others, and just not understanding.
For instance, I remember listening to a speech of a man who was in tears, because he had met a women sitting on a park bench crying. He made up a whole story about the women, and felt so guilty that he never bothered to help her. I remember being so frustrated because I could not help but to wonder why he would just assume she was homeless. Why didn’t he just speak to the woman to say hello, instead of making up a story about her. Like many people, he was willing to feel guilty about doing something big, but he was not even willing to relate to the woman.
And there was the time when I was in the Northwestern library, and a former classmate and fellow religion major, Heather, had organized a canned food drive for the homeless. I told her that was a nice gesture, but most of the homeless people that I knew did not have can openers in their pockets. And most of us were not as resourceful as Joan, who one day borrowed a hot plate, and cooked her can of soup right there on the street.
I had been baptized at Second Baptist church a few months before this experience. My Associate Pastor worked at the morning center where we would go when the shelter closed. One day I had finally worked up the courage to go up to his little card table and talk with him – to ask him a question. I think I am being called by God – can you tell me what that means? His response to me was that I had fallen through the cracks of society and that I needed to concentrate on getting me life together. I remember staring at the table to find the crack that I had fallen through – that he couldn’t answer me question.

Lessons I learned
I feel that it is important to tell my story, because we get caught up on our impressions. So we give to causes in hopes that they are making a difference. But what is it really that we are giving people and why?
As a journalist, one of the first things that Joan did upon moving into the shelter, was to ask the Chicago Tribune if she could write a story about being homeless. One the night before her deadline, we talked about her story. Our conversation has always stuck with me.
In her research, she said that she realized that if Hilda announced to all of us that the shelter was closing tomorrow and she told us all to go home, not one of us would be at a loss of where to go. As a matter of fact, for thanksgiving many of us had to call in to make a special execption for being late to return to the shelter, because most people had went home to visit their In her interviewing other people in the shelter, she realized that if they were to shut the shelter down and tell us all to go home. Not one of us would be at a lost of where to go. We all had families, and a place to go. Yet there was always a reason that people felt alienated from their families.
Joan went on to note that the search for a homeless shelter is not really a search for a physical bed, or food or clothing. People on the tramp trail (as living in shelters is affectionately called) are really on a spiritual journey. They are in search for a spiritual bed, spiritual covering, and spiritual food. For many of us – we had a bed, and shelter and a means of getting food – but were looking for someone who cared enough to give.
I was not born a Methodist. The seeds of my decision to devote my life to the Methodist church began in the help that I received during that time in my life. The mystery of God was not in the physical help that I received, it was in the grace that I felt for the first time in my life. I didn’t have to earn my keep, or answer any questions. I was just taken care of.

A Day of Grace
One day a minister from Northwestern brought his campus ministry group to worship with us in the shelter. Afterwards, Jack came up to me and told me that I appeared to be such a happy person. I think it was the reflection of the purple sweatshirt that I had on. People have told me that purple makes me glow. Because happy is not a verb that I would ever use to describe myself. But the interesting thing is, that after he said that - I didn’t need to live that life anymore. That was my moment of grace. I did need to earn a good grade, or be on my best behavior, or be told that what someone expected of me. I joined his campus ministry, went back to school and went on the seminary. All because of one word of kindness from a stranger.
During his weekly worship service we would always sing songs out of the Methodist hymnal. I decided that if Jack liked those corny songs – then I had to like to too. Jack was willing to talk with me and answer all of my questions, and invite me to be apart of his faith. I not only went to worship – I actually worked there all throughout seminary, and decided that perhaps I should be Jack to other people and become a United Methodist minister.
Interestingly enough – the pastor from the shelter also went to Garrett seminary. If I couldn’t think of a valid reason to back to school before – the chance to walk down the same halls as him, and attend the same classes as him and lick my tongue out at him was a very good reason. That was fun, God is good sometimes. – He became a United Methodist pastor too. I am a United Methodist pastor today because that is the church that helped me to truly understand what grace means. This was my experience that helped me to experience the power of Jesus for myself.

Mission to Save the Nice Church People
I often wondered if the people who volunteered to help us realized that people go to homeless shelters in search of the same things that people who haven’t lost their patience with society would go to church.
As members of the shelter grew together and shared our stories, they were not stories of houses burning down, or robbers taking everything. They were stories of significant relationships breaking down. They were stories of marriages falling apart, or of alienation from parents, or dealing with the death of a loved one. Even today, when I talk with people who ask for money- I always ask about their family. And I always find some type of alienation.
Some people can get their spiritual fulfillment by going to work or spending time in community. But when they cant find community, many people seek the tramp trail. It is called a trail, because people go from shelter to shelter, church to church telling their sad story over and over again. And once you start to get responses to your story – you get accustomed to that lifestyle. You get accustomed to getting taking care of.
Which is why I am not comfortable with our approaches to homelessness. After awhile, it starts to enable to behavior that it tries to address. It is important to give to those in need, but until the spiritual issues are addressed, I wonder if anything will ever change?
There were many times in my stay with Joan, where I wondered if I would ever get out of that situation alive. There were many times when she threatened me. By the time I moved out – I was sleeping with the dresser pulled over the door because she had predicted that I would be found in a park cut up in little pieces. My prayer to God was that if I ever got out of the situation alive, my mission would not be to the homeless people I lived with – I don’t know the answers to that situation, my mission would be to save the nice church people that helped me.
I will never forget the first day I went to the community dinner at First Presbyterian Church. All of the churches of Evanston has gotten together and decided that they would provide a lunch and dinner somewhere in the city everyday of the week. The people were so proud that they had given me a meal. Yet I was concerned that this was the worst day of my life. A day when I was totally confused, and had no answers of what was happening and what to do. And yet no one talked to me, no one said anything about their faith, their call to help me.
The prayer that got me through that experience was a request to God. Not to have a chance to help homeless people necessarily. But to be able to go back and give a message to all of those nice church people. That in the midst of all of your giving – give people Jesus.
make sure that you give people love and care. Treat them as if they are people, on the same level as your are. They are searching for answers, give them the answers of your faith.
There are people in the world who are really looking for what you have – a relationship with a caring community.
21 years later, I am still homeless. Contrary to rumors, I still don’t have a place of my own to stay. And I am still totally dependant on nice church people to provide my housing. Until next general conference if guaranteed appointments are taken away, Jesus told me that was not a problem for me to worry about. My home was to be totally inside of the Love of God.

Have you Seen Joan
Finally, at one point, Joan had as many as seven men living in our house. Whenever they got kicked out of the shelter, Joan would take them in. We only had six months to live in our apartment. Joan was pretty far gone at the end of those six months. She had really gotten in a drug culture, and her illness got much worse. At the end of the six months, Joan’s mother picked her up and she went back home to her family and I went back to school. When I walked around, I would see a lot of the men that lived with us. And we would always end our conversation with the question – Have you seen Joan?
On the day that we moved out of the apartment, joan said goodbye to me and wished me well. Remembering the fact that I slept with the dresser to my door because Joan threatened to kill me, my response to Joan was that if I ever see her again in life, it will be too soon. Forever isn’t here yet, because I still don’t care where Joan is. (people have told me that I need to learn to forgive Joan).
My point being, None of us ever saw Joan again. She never returned to the people she considered family and to to place she called home. Have you seen Joan? If you have, what did you say to her? How did you show the love of God?


Other things to add to the story:

The structure of all of the Evanston churches working together to provide a structure to help people. Several churches took a day to provide a meal. Which during that time provided a safety net for me.

The experience with second Baptist pastor- I wanted to talk with him because I felt that I had been called by God. He told me that I had fallen through the cracks of society and I needed to get my life together. Looking for the crack in the table that I had fallen through that prevented him from asking my question.

I don’t really care where Joan is the last thing I told Joan when her family came to pick her up – If I ever see you again in life, it will be too soon for me. Forever aint here yet, because I don’t care where Joan is. People have told me that I need to get past that.

Standing in line , an hour wait to talk with the episcocal priest to get bus tokens. When I was asked why I was on the tramp trail – you know it is the tramp trail – because you go from church to church giving your sad story, asking for help.

Joined the campus ministry group, worked for university Christian ministry all through seminary, became United Methodist. Those corny songs in the hymnal seemed to really mean something to Jack, so they started to mean something to me. If Jack was United Methodist, I would be one too.

Why don’t you get your life together – just don’t feel like it