No Authority

We as an outreach team we’re inspired early on by Sanctuary Church in Toronto. Sanctuary’s method for outreach reminded us that when we are on the street we lose our authority. We don’t have the keys, we aren’t on our turf, and we come to serve in humility. When we are in front of someone panhandling, or involved in any other form of commerce, we are in our sister or brother’s place of work. We are on our best behaviour and show genuine respect. We meet Christ in our brothers and sisters. Reverence would be an appropriate word. 

This week a couple of us encountered a man from the drop-in community, but we didn’t know his name. Our interaction was awkward. It was difficult. We were subjected to a patronizing tone as we stood awkwardly on the ground where he clearly felt comfortable. We were guests. We were outside of our comfort zones, trying to serve, but clearly being pushed away (although he would then call us back as he clearly did want to talk). He cannot be blamed for his hostility. Even during the minutes we stood there chatting, handfuls of university students or older “responsible” adults walked by, many of whom muttered disparaging remarks or blatant insults, while others completely ignored his presence. No one offered anything.

This is how people forget what it is like to receive compassion. When all one is offered is silence, wintery glares or worse, it is difficult to remember how to extend hospitality to those that step into the circle of light on the pavement that is your “turf.” Although we weren’t welcomed with open arms, our loss of authority was important. We must continually learn how to pour love into the fault-lines in the armour used as emotional defence mechanisms. We must also recognize what kind of effect it has when we belittle or patronize those that step into our turf, where we hold the keys.