It's That Simple

At RiverWalk, we have a rather eclectic group of men who stay under our drive-up canopy overnight.  We also have guys that camp out by the dumpster, behind a bush, and out on the front lawn.  These guys are some of the homeless on the streets of Wichita.  Many of them are semi-permanent residents of this part of town.  Some show up for a day or two and then move on.  Once in a while I have to tell someone that they are no longer welcome on church property due to the mess they leave or for some other reason.  And rarely, we have to call in the police or the ambulance to take care of a specific situation.

I’ve gotten to know several of the frequent or long-term guests on our property.  Rick, Brian, Mike, and others appear to be decent individuals who have chosen, for whatever reason, to spend their time on the street.  They see that the property is cleaned up when people camp out, maintain some order and peace, and generally look after the church building and the grounds.  They’ll tell me if someone is a troublemaker or doesn’t clean up after themselves so I can send them on their way.  They see to it that whenever there is an event or meeting at the church building, they and the others are out of sight, because they know that most people aren’t used to the homeless and have a fear of the unknown.

In return, the church allows them to stay under cover.  We allow them to use the restroom facilities when needed, and can provide some simple food items from time to time.  We keep their personal property in our building for a couple of hours should they need to leave it for some reason.

But more than that, and I think most importantly, we provide them with a sense of dignity and no judgment.  We treat them like human beings.  We sit with them from time to time on the river bank at the back of the building and just visit on a nice evening.  We ask about their welfare.  We listen.  We interact.

Yes, the odor is sometimes not the most pleasant.  No, we don’t ever expect that they will attend worship services (although some have).  Yes, we hold no illusions that we will be able to somehow get them a house and two-car garage.  And No, they don’t always use the best and finest language when they visit with us.  We just serve.

We have a few simple guidelines that they, for the most part, respect.  No alcohol or illegal drug use while on the premises.  Clean up after yourself (you’re welcome to use our dumpster).  Don’t use our yard as a bathroom.  Take any fighting, carousing, or other disruptive activity somewhere else.  And I believe they respect us enough that these guidelines are pretty much followed.  They know that if they mess it up, and we know about it, they’ll be told to move on.

This is, in a real way, the meeting of two cultures—the middle class with the homeless.  The homeless culture is not the poverty culture.  It is not the low-income culture.  It is its own culture with its own norms, standards, and customs.  And those of us in the middle class culture can no more truly understand the homeless culture than we can the culture of the Mayan Indian tribes until we put in some effort to learn about it from those who are part of it and those who know that culture through study and observation.

Our effort to “help” those in this culture to become “normal” like us is doomed to failure unless and until we make the effort to see, hear, and understand.  Our attempts to “normalize” them will be fraught with failure unless we see them as human beings, hear their stories, and understand their way of life (at least to some degree).

Many do not wish to make the leap into a different culture.  Many have been in the middle class and decided, for whatever reason, that the middle class is not for them.  Some do not have the capability or capacity, intellectually or emotionally , to make the decisions necessary to leave that culture and enter into another.

So, what to do?  Love them.  It’s really that simple.  Not always easy, but simple.  Try it.