Poverty Stinks

Poverty stinks, literally and metaphorically. Being in poverty and on the streets doubly stinks. A shower and a change of clothes helps with the literal stench. For a day or so, the stench of homelessness and poverty are kept at bay. A shower, followed by putting on freshly laundered clothing, and some deodorant, is a small but significant act of resistance. Still, sleeping in one’s clothes, not having a change of clothes, and not having access to a bathroom, will inevitably lead to the odiferous return of poverty and homelessness.

                I did the laundry today at Manna House. I do not have a very strong sense of smell. It is a helpful characteristic as I sort the clothes from the men who showered. But the pungent smell of human shit penetrated my nostrils as I lifted a pair of jeans out of the dirty clothes bucket. Clearly the man who had been wearing these pants had not made it to a bathroom in time.

                Most likely he shit in his pants because he was denied access to a bathroom in a store or restaurant. I am sure you have seen the signs, “Bathrooms for Customers Only.” Many places go even further and keep their restrooms locked. To enter the restroom you have to ask for the key. If your clothing looks tattered, or you are dirty and disheveled, and you also happen to be Black, your chances of getting that key are severely diminished. One way poverty and homelessness stink is the systemic denial of access to bathrooms. The system stinks.

                Another set of clothes in the laundry bucket gave off a systemic stink. There was a discarded blue paper suit.  You get those when you are discharged from a hospital, or sometimes from jail, and you do not own any clothes.  Last night and this morning was unseasonably cool. A paper suit is not much protection against the cold. I am sure the hot water of the shower was helpful in thawing out the man who was given a paper suit. The clothes we gave him to put on after his shower must have helped as well.

                Slightly over twenty men showered this morning at Manna House. There are already seven women signed up for tomorrow’s showers. Another twenty plus men will sign up for showers on Thursday. They will be different than the men who showered today. Men, like the women, have access to a shower once a week at Manna House.

                Manna House is a small place with two shower stalls. We practice hospitality, which means we do not want to become big. We know that size and efficiency are enemies of hospitality, of personal relationships, of knowing people by their names, and welcoming people with dignity. We encourage others to open houses of hospitality that are also sized for welcome.

                We know that hospitality does not remove the systemic stench of poverty even as it helps a few remove that stench temporarily with a shower and a change of clothes. For the men that showered this morning that was no small thing. But they know and we know this hospitality is not ending poverty or homelessness. Ending poverty and homelessness requires systemic change, change to our economics and to our politics.

                Such change is not on the horizon. I read in this morning’s paper that the President is proposing a budget that will bring severe cuts to a number of programs designed to help people in poverty. Provisions for food, housing, and medical care for people already in poverty will all be cut. The stench of poverty will be made worse by these shitty policies.

                I doubt that the President or his advisors, along with members of Congress have ever smelt the shit left in the pants of a man made homeless by our economic and political system. I also doubt that they have spent the night outside in a thin paper suit. Maybe if they did, they would make policies that reduced instead of increased the stink of poverty. Maybe.

                While we engage in the struggle against policies that stink, we will continue with hospitality. The stench in my nostrils from this morning’s laundry keeps me focused on both hospitality and justice. Both are about reducing the stink.  I think that is what Jeremiah was talking about when he gave a vision of a society justly ordered, of a time in which the stink is gone.

                “They will come home and sing songs of joy on the heights of Jerusalem. They will be radiant because of the Lord's good gifts--the abundant crops of grain, new wine, and olive oil, and the healthy flocks and herds. Their life will be like a watered garden, and all their sorrows will be gone” (Jeremiah 31:12, New Living Translation).

                In such a time, Jeremiah tells us, everyone comes home. The abundant goods of the earth will be shared. And we will flourish from showers that do more than remove stench, they will lead to abundant life.

Ten Rules for Addressing Panhandlers and Panhandling
1. Give or don't give. It is really your choice. But always look the person in the eye who is asking, and say "Hi" and then maybe add, "Sorry I can't help today" OR "Here you go." Always treat the person with respect.
2. If you do give to a panhandler, remember it is a gift, and the person is free to do with it whatever he or she wants to do
3. If you don't give that is ok. Panhandlers expect most people not to give. One said to me, "It's like cold calling in sales. I expect to get turned down most of the time and it doesn't bother me. Just treat me with respect.” (See Rule #1 above).
4. If you feel unsafe or the person is being aggressive or threatening, leave the area and don't give. As one said to me, "There are assholes in every line of life. Don't reward them."
5. Sometimes give more than you are being asked for. So, if someone asks for a dollar give them five... just for fun!
6. Set a limit or a boundary to your giving. Mine is $5 per day. Once I've given out my $5 then I respond to anyone who asks, "I've given out already what I give each day." I consider this my "street tax."
7. There are people out there who aren't homeless who panhandle. They are simply poor. So, again, give if you want, or don't if you don't want to, but treat everyone with respect. (See Rule #1 above).
8. Feeling awkward or uncomfortable when you see a panhandler is ok. It means you have a conscience and some compassion.
9. If you have time, and are so inclined, volunteer with an organization that works with people on the streets offering food, or shelter, or medical care etc. You'll get to know some really interesting people, and they'll get to know you. And you might just see them on the streets from time to time, and you can wave and yell "Hi!"
10. If you really want to help people who are housing deprived, then advocate for housing for all homeless people. Support organizations in your area that practice a "housing first" approach to homelessness. Also resist all efforts to dehumanize, disrespect, and criminalize people who are on the streets with laws like "No panhandling." (See Rule #1 above).

The Liberal Soul Shall Be Made Fat

The talk Thursday morning was about Ben Carson’s view of shelters, and about the impending Health Care bill. The usual banter about the NBA or NFL was muted. Guests raised their fears that things are getting worse. Then a guest shared with me his “Word for the Day.”

                “Do you know this verse?” he asked, “The liberal soul shall be made fat.” Though I’ve lived in the Bible Belt now over twenty years, I had to confess I was not familiar with that verse.

                “Where in the Bible does it say that?”

                “Somewhere in Proverbs.”

                I got out my phone and did a search. Proverbs 11:25 (King James Version of course), “The liberal soul shall be made fat; and that watereth shall be watered also himself.” Or in more contemporary English, “A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed” (NIV).

                “So stingy people will become emaciated?” I asked.

                I thought of Scrooge. He’s never portrayed as a fat man. Same for Mr. Burns on “The Simpsons.”

Santa Claus on the other hand offers a rotund picture of robust giving.

                For misers there is never enough. The deadly sin of avarice or greed feeds upon fears of not enough.

                The guest shook his head, “Ain’t no telling a rich man that he’s gonna go hungry. He just won’t listen.”

                “God is fat” a guest said.

                I showed my age, “Is that with an ‘f’ or a “phat?’”

                The other old guys around me laughed.

                 We came back to the smug comment Ben Carson made the other day.  As he toured a homeless shelter he was pleased to find it not very hospitable. Carson said, “A comfortable setting… would make somebody want to say: ‘I’ll just stay here. They will take care of me.’”

                “He ought to stay in a shelter. Then he might shut up.”

                “He’s clueless. He don’t know us. And he don’t care.”

                “He’s got a skinny soul.”

                I have seen the liberal souls of our guests. They share the wisdom of the streets. They’ll tell new people what they need to know in order to survive. They share cigarettes, socks, food, catholes, blankets. They share out of their deep knowledge that they are in this struggle together.

                Carson well represents a soul that is not liberal, not generous. And he represents a president whose soul is avaricious and thus also vicious. Trump has called poor people “morons.” Trump’s proposed budget would slash or abolish programs that have helped people below the poverty line, including affordable housing, banking, weatherizing homes, job training, paying home heating bills, and obtaining legal counsel in civil matters.

                Trump will cut the very resources that in the past month or so have gotten a number of our most regular guests into housing. After years on the streets they now have a place to call “home.” Most have moved into modest apartments, some into rooming houses. When they get their place they proudly come around to Manna House and show us their keys. Trump with his emaciated soul wants to end this. He says it creates “dependency.” This comes from a man whose own wealth was inherited and has been rewarded by a financial system that pampers the wealthiest while punishing the poor.

                At Manna House we try to be the “liberal soul.” So we believe that treating people with respect, welcoming them with hospitality, not only enriches the lives of our guests but our souls as well. Hospitality provides the space for wholeness, for seeing our bonds with each other, our interdependence, for nurturing the desire to seek a life consistent with the respect and welcome shared.

                A former guest came by the other day to thank us, “You all believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You made me feel like a human being again. It made me think, ‘I don’t have to just take this. I can try again.’” He is now housed and working.

                Another guest said, “I feel like for every step forward I take two steps back. Ain’t gonna stop trying though. You haven’t given up on me and I’m not giving up either.”

                The problem with misers is that with their illiberal soul they only see deficiency. They do not believe that there is enough for everybody. Scarcity stalks their souls. Hence all of the worry about being taken advantage of by people in poverty, “welfare cheats,” “foodstamp fraud.” So Trump speaks about “how taxpayers are being shaken down by this outrageously mismanaged government program.”

                The Gospel for this Sunday is about the Good Shepherd, a “liberal soul.” Jesus says his life and work is that of a good shepherd. He shares his life generously. “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). He points out that thieves and bandits threaten the sheep. In doing so he recalls the prophet Ezekiel’s description of avaricious political and economics leaders.

                “This is what the Sovereign Lord says: ‘Woe to you shepherds of the nation who only take care                 of yourselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock. You have      not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. You have not brought back the strays or searched for the lost. You have ruled them harshly and brutally’” (Ezekiel             34:2-5).

Ezekiel gives an accurate picture of illiberal and greedy shepherds. Ezekiel then speaks of the divine judgment that leaves the greedy shepherds emaciated and the starving sheep fattened and healthy.

                “’I will tend them in a good pasture, and the mountain heights of Israel will be their grazing land. There they will lie down in good grazing land, and there they will feed in a rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. I myself will tend my sheep and have them lie down, declares the Sovereign Lord.  I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice’” (Ezekiel 34:14-16).

            “They’re just mean,” a guest added to our conversation on this morning. “They hate us. They want us to die. I’m not giving them the pleasure.”

                “Keep living,” I said, “We love you.”