Setting Prisoners Free

He has grass in his hair, a damp stench, and an overly filled backpack as he wanders into the place of worship. No one greets him. No one asks his name. He watches parents politely whisper to their kids to steer clear of him. They've deemed him a threat. He listens intently to the preacher dynamically proclaim about the all-inclusive and accepting love of Jesus, but he leaves feeling excluded and alone. He leaves thinking that the love of the One “who had no place to lay His head” must only apply to housed folk.  She hobbles into the back of the van. She'd just been picked up from the homeless shelter. They travel miles to the massive suburban church, only to be told to sit in the back - the roped-off section where all the "homeless" must sit. She obeys, knowing she's just a number, a mascot, a "feel-good photo", for their "thriving homeless ministry", helping these uppity Church folk get brownie points with the One who said, "the first ...

His thick jacket covered his face. His overly stuffed backpack, which included all his important documents, was jammed firmly between his legs. He was trying to get a wink of sleep while riding on the noisy chaotic Red Line (train). He worried about how he was going to work in the morning with his continual lack of sleep. He was worried about getting robbed as he slept. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he heard and felt all the judgments from the commuters! No one knew his story, no one spoke to him, no one knew how hard he worked, and even though he covered his face he could feel the stares and glares! Every night he was called a lazy bum and other brutally insulting words. Occasionally he was spat upon and slapped. No one knew who he was, no one knew he worked over 40 hours a week, but so many thought it was their right to deem him unworthy and less than them!  The difference between perceptions and reality can be as far apart as heaven and hell. Perceptions can do irrepa...

I was asked by a friend to write a reflection or thoughts about living with, working with and assisting those who are experiencing homelessness. My life also regularly involves going into Cook County Jail. When we choose to dedicate our lives to help those without homes, we quickly find it is far more eclectic than we could ever imagine. It involves, and is not limited to, helping people with their rap sheets, assisting those who are struggling with addictions, walking alongside those struggling with a mental illness or visiting with those who are chronically ill. The challenges are never dull and ever-expanding. My hope in this rambling is that I can encourage those who aspire to do something similar. These are just a few of my own personal opinions, aimed at inspiring anyone who wishes to enter this exciting, challenging and rewarding world. This is in no way comprehensive, but a list of what I see as most important for those who wish to dedicate years to fighting for and wa...

Naivety imprisoned me as I entered into my new world. I was learning, I wanted to learn, but I was captured by  my thoughts, my opinions, my ideals. My privilege insulated me. Propaganda deceived me. My anxiety captured me. My faith needed strength and courage to question and have the guts to walk into the dark and destitute places.  Ever since I remember, I was an irritant that questioned the status quo, challenged the high places, distrusted politics and could never understand the vicious and evil inequality that has always surrounded me. Seeing all the injustice and inequality tormented my young mind. I knew it wasn't right! In my restlessness, I knew Jesus must be grieving and wondering how I could faithfully and courageously step into this unjust world with my faith. I had a major problem though, I lacked courage! I was scared! I needed strength! I was battling depression! My anxiety had taken me captive! I was crippled by my shyness and social anxiety! Into...

Most days I walk about 3 blocks down Wilson Avenue to and from work. This brief trek through Uptown reveals so much celebration and tragedy! It screams of community and gentrification, compassion and violence, activism and discrimination, trauma and elation! You have to close your eyes tight to remain neutral on such a street!  The street tells countless stories: I walk out of my building to see a few apartments occupied by those once homeless. I've watched an abandoned Burger King turn into an expensive glass high-rise. I’ve marched with other protesters over our authorities trying to prevent people from feeding and giving shelter to the poor. I’ve seen developments rapidly grow before my eyes. I’ve seen the friendly embrace of friends and the beauty of forgiveness. I’ve been watching the tragic gutting and destruction of the Wilson Men’s Hotel, causing a new and traumatic path of homelessness and loneliness. I’ve had people dangle their keys in front of me, pr...

He beat his chest! He bugged out his eyes! He howled into the sky, and yelled as loud as he could “I’m crazy, crazzzzzyyyy! I’m the craziest man in Uptown!” He would follow that by laughing hysterically, with one of the loudest and most distinctive laughs you’d ever hear. He had a laugh that would turn heads on a whole city block. It wasn't something you could ignore, it would either cause terror or amusement to everyone in earshot.  Then, all of a sudden he'd stop! He’d stop beating his chest. He’d stop laughing. He'd stop yelling. His whole demeanor would dramatically change. His gigantic smile disappeared behind a hard, angry and penetrating glare. He’d barely blink and stare straight into my eyes and say, “I may be crazy, but don’t ever call me stupid. I ain’t stupid!”  After making his point he’d switch back to smiling and being his usual loud, hyped up emotional self.  I’ve heard and seen Shaun do a variety of his “I’m crazy, not stupid” routine many times...

It’s that awful time of the year: political flyers, relentless texts, and people pleading with me to vote for them! I have absolutely no faith in submitting to this empire that serves only those who have money, power, and privilege. What I do have faith in: people who resist the empire, grassroots movements motivated by inclusive compassion for those who’ve been rejected, and our Merciful God who loves those who are struggling, homeless, incarcerated, and refugees. Every day, at the moment, if you’re like me, you’re getting bombarded with a whole lot of political mailings and videos from our incumbent alderman, James Cappleman. It's tiring! If it wasn’t for how many people believe this stuff, the lies and use of propaganda shoved in my face would be hilarious! I could ignore it, but he's had some real and devastating effects on the lives of people I care about. I cringe over how much money is spent mailing out and posting this propaganda so that he can be re-elected; money ...