Sacramental Living

Health insurance. Seriously! Since I resigned from the typical pastorate, I needed health insurance for my family. So I took the job.

Okay, that may have been a big motivator for any job, but here I am serving as a manager for a shelter and transitional program for the homeless and working poor. I could be employed doing something that has nothing to do with my life mission. Instead, here I am. And I love it. Why?

As way of explaining why I love this ministry, let me share a story.

A resident — I’ll call him “Gus” — was sitting in my office as I administered a breathalyzer test to him. The night before, his reading was .12 (that’s drunk). Two nights before, I had spent 3o minutes with Gus as he cried and grieved over the recent losses in his life. He was making six figures just 5 years ago. He has two teenage children who are currently living with his estranged wife. His wife has repeatedly cheated on him and finally kicked him out, presumably for excessive drinking and all that drinking entails.

The man who just a few years ago was living the so-called American Dream, was now a resident in a homeless shelter.

And I was noticing a trend. He tends to point at the specks of wood in the eyes of others while ignoring the 2×4 in his own eye.

Gus had been trying to ease his emotional pain with strong liquor. He was not getting with the transitional program. And he was lying to me and my staff to cover it up.

I had prayed with him, helped him secure some income, listened as he processed … all the while I noticed he was in denial as to his culpability of the circumstance he found himself in.

Now, he was sitting in my office again and we were having him blow into a breathalyzer (again) to determine just how much he’d had to drink.

Gus said “just a tall boy about 1pm today.” That would mean he might show a .02 on the meter.

Beep, beep goes the machine. And I read a .10. He’s very drunk again.

In my office with me and Gus is one of my staff members at the shelter — I’ll call him Jim.

After we get the results of Gus’s blood alcohol content, I explain to Gus that he can’t stay at the shelter this night. He now has his 3rd strike. We’ll give him some dinner and a blanket, but he has to face the consequences of his actions.

I’m baffled and frustrated. Not only was he showing up drunk, but he had been previously caught with a fifth of vodka IN THE SHELTER. That’s a big “no no.” He was lucky to be here right now.

He repeatedly had told me what a grace the shelter was: “Two hot meals, a warm shower, a clean bed, a caring staff, a safe place to be.” And he was thumbing his nose at the whole process.

As I tried to fathom why he would push his circumstance to this point, Jim spoke up.

“Gus, you can point at a woman, a bottle of alcohol, life circumstances, everyone else, but nothing is going to fill what’s in here”, as he places the palm of his hand on Gus’s chest, indicating the heart. “That’s a God thing, brother.”

You see, Jim is a staff member who was a resident just 3 months ago when I began the job. He’s one of two former residents who I’ve hired as staff. He had gone 7 years in AA, staying sober. Before that, he had lost his first marriage, his kids, his job, his dignity, his self-respect … everything. After 7 years, he took it upon himself to start over. When he began trusting himself, he fell off the wagon again. This time, none of his family threw him a lifeline. They cut him off. So after running for a long time, he ended up in the shelter.

After proving his sobriety and vowing to be changed, I hired him. Jim wakes up every day and asks God to help him stay sober that day. He is a man of great faith. You wouldn’t find Jim’s theological statements in a systematic theology text. But he has placed his entire life into the hands of someone bigger than himself. He now spends time with his daughters. His rebuilding bridges that seemed nothing but ashes a few months before. Jim trusts God to go before him every step of the way. It’s amazing to watch.

And here was Jim in my office talking to Gus. “Gus, I’ve lost it all: women, family, friends, job, dignity, everything. But nothing addresses the pain in the heart except the One who created you. You can’t turn to him until you recognize you have a problem. It’s a God thing, brother.”

Wow! Here was the gospel being played out right in front of me.

In the typical “church world” I wouldn’t be a witness to this. In fact, every day I work at the shelter, I come home with another story of how I’ve witnessed Jesus in the poor and disenfranchised.

The stuff of Jesus I read in the gospels, I’m privileged to experience almost every day! I never experienced this in the “professional ministry.”

Why am I serving as a shelter manager?

Because I was called to preach the gospel, and when necessary to use words. I finally am living and experiencing the Gospel of Jesus Christ on a daily basis.

It’s humbling, wonderful, heart-breaking, intimidating, joyful, and hopeful all at the same time. I witness lives being transformed. I hang out with the kinds of people Jesus was friends with.

Instead of piddling around with buildings, boards, and budgets I get to offer a cup of cold water in Jesus’ name. I get to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, visit the prisoners, and see the captives set free.

Why would I ever go back to “respectable Christian ministry”?

In future posts, I’ll give more examples to explain the “Why?”. Hopefully, you can see why this is wonderful outpouring of God’s grace: that I be allowed to be part of Christ’s work in this way.

——

Brian Niece
www.brianniece.com
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Related Posts:

• Why I’m Serving as a Shelter Manager – Part 2
• Why Preaching Has Been Too Narrowly Defined
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• Changes
• Bresee and Rejection