1268 War Hospital

“For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13).

             This passage has been important in the life of Manna House as it has consistently pointed us to both having boundaries (making judgments), and transcending those boundaries when appropriate (mercy triumphing over judgments).  Hospitality has a rhythm of saying “yes” and saying “no” and only in the practice of hospitality does a wisdom emerge that may keep that rhythm in proper tune.

            This morning was chilly and damp with thick clouds and occasional drizzle.  After I started the coffee, I went back outside to wipe water from last night’s rain off the picnic table in the front yard.  This would create a few more seats for guests waiting for us to open.  A young African American man who I didn’t recognize approached me and asked if he could get a shower today.

            “I stink.  I’ve been on these streets; just out after five years in prison.  I need a shower badly.  I was told I could get one here.”

            I responded first with judgment.  “Today is women’s shower day.  You can sign up today for the next men’s shower day on Thursday.”

            “Man, I really need a shower.”  The disappointment on his face was evident.  So, too, was the pain of rejection.  His eyes hardened, his head went down slightly, his shoulders had sagged.

            Mercy.  Sort of.  “Maybe we can work you in later this morning.  We don’t have that many women on the list for showers.  Sometimes we can make an exception.  I can check and see if this can be done.”  I went back inside the house wondering if this would be possible at all.  Preserving Tuesday for women’s showers is important.  Letting a man shower on a Tuesday could create pressure to let more men shower on future Tuesdays.

            Mercy.  Really.  Kathleen arrived shortly thereafter.  I recounted my conversation about a possible shower.  She quickly urged that we bring the man in first; immediately after we open.  And that is what happened.

            Mercy.  A hot shower and a change of clothes for a recently liberated captive.  Kathleen and Ashleigh, a volunteer with us for a few days from the University of Tennessee at Martin, got the young man set up for his shower.  Twenty minutes later he was still in the shower room.  The water was running. 

            Judgment.  I went into the shower room and said, “We have women waiting to shower.  We need you to finish up soon.”

            “O man, thanks,” the guest responded from within the shower stall, “I’ll be right done.  I haven’t had a shower alone with good hot water in over six years.”

I came later to connect the words from this young black man in the shower stall with the words written this morning by a guest who struggles with mental illness.  He often spends the morning very carefully writing things of which I can’t make sense.  On a piece of paper this morning he put the heading, “1268 War Hospital.”  1268 is the street number for Manna House. 

When our mercy triumphs over judgment at Manna House, it is not simply over our boundaries, but over against larger racist judgments institutionalized in our society.  African Americans constitute nearly 1 million of the total 2.3 people million in prison or jail in the U.S.  Michelle Alexander calls this systemic imprisonment of black men, part of an ongoing white supremacy system, “The New Jim Crow” in a book by the same name. 

In light of these facts, and this report from “1268 War Hospital” this morning, the first part of the passage from James bears repeating, “For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy.”