A Random Encounter

Last week, I met a young man on the street as I was going to get my lunch. For this post, I will call him Shawn. He was in his early 20s, tall, thin, African American, with eyes that seemed close to tears. He was standing outside of a restaurant and asking if anyone would get him something to eat. I stopped when he spoke to me. Shawn did not want money, he just wanted some food. He had just been released from jail, where he served time for carrying pot. He had his release papers in his hand. My heart broke. I agreed to get him some food. I was heading to the pizza place around the corner, so we went together and ordered food. We talked while we waited. Shawn was going around filling out job applications so that he could get back to work. He had lost his previous job because he was incarcerated. Shawn had walked about 5 miles from the jail to the south loop, and wasn't sure how to get home, which was over 10 miles away. He had no money for public transportation. So I took Shawn to get a  pass so that he could get home, and get around town for job hunting. While we walked, we talked. I told him about my work, I talked about ministry. Shawn told me about growing up in foster care and group homes. How he was taken from his home when he was two because his parents were addicted to drugs and alcohol. How some of his foster families beat him for no reason and others treated him as if he was their biological child. Shawn told me of being 16 years and going downtown with his friend in the group home. His friend was talking about his frustration with not being with his family and the unfairness of the world. And as they stood on the train platform, his friend jumps in front of the oncoming train. So much pain, so much struggle, so much hardship in one young life. And yet Shawn has hope that he will find a job. He has the determination to keep going and not let life get him down. He is still learning all that he can do, and all that he has to offer.

As we said our goodbyes at the street corner, tears were in both our eyes. I hope that he will be ok. I hope that he can find a job. I hope that his incarceration will not derail his ability to live the life he deserves. And I’m frustrated with a system where someone can smoke pot and get arrested, go to jail, lose their livelihood, and then be released with no source of income, no funds to get home, no way to restart their life after their incarceration. I am glad that we are starting a prison ministry at my home church. There is so much work to do.

Answering the Call

After months of thinking and talking about it, I am starting this blog. Blogging is contrary to my private, introverted nature. But this is something that I truly feel called to do. And like most prophetic calls, I have fought it all along the way.

This blog will chronicle my engagement of the intersection of spirituality and justice. Its name comes from my reclamation of the term patriot. Patriotism is not blind obsequiousness or unquestioned deference to authority. Patriotism is simply love of country. The important word is love. It does not mean one country is better than other (that’s nationalism). It does not mean that I don’t love any other country (I have plenty of love to go around). And it doesn’t mean that I believe this country is perfect (If I only loved what was perfect, I would not do much loving at all). Patriotism means that this country where I was born and raised, that has shaped and molded me for good and for ill, this country has a place in my heart. And I care enough about it to want it to be the best place it can be for me and for all who live here.

Patriotism resonates with my Universalist spirit. I was reminded on Sunday of Hosea Ballou who said, "Your child has fallen into the mire, and its body and its garments are defiled. You cleanse it, and array it in clean robes. The query is, Do you love your child because you have washed it? Or, Did you wash it because you loved it?" Yes, I think this country has fallen in the mire, and I am adamant to wash it, to clean it, and robe it. And I do so because I love this country. If I did not, I would not care, and continue on my merry way. I have tried to ignore the injustice. I have tried to ignore the issues plaguing our country. I can’t. I care too much. And so I realize that my patriotism and my faith are intertwined. I am a Unitarian Universalist Patriot.