Some times the day just goes right, whatever “right” is. Sometimes it all turns about an insignificant thing. The day just jumps up and slaps you across the face. It is all one can say about it, the day went right.
Today was one of those days.
It was our Union service day. It is a day, something I admit with a little embarrassment, I really didn’t know existed even at a national level; a “day of service” to commemorate, or honor, or respect the people who lost their lives on September 11 in New York and Pennsylvania on that ill-fated morning. I heard on the radio that the Muslim world also has a one thousand day service period that ends today for the same reason.
All of us entering students at Union Theological Seminary (as well as a number of second, third year and doctoral students) met at Watt Chapel to situate ourselves in a “Day of Service.” I went with a group of my fellow students to a local “free clinic” not too far away.
I was taken aback by what I heard from the directors of the clinic. (Should I have, given my life in the inner city of Atlanta participating in the life of the congregation of Central Presbyterian Church?) This non-profit serves tens of thousands of clients in a year. It has a significant (numbering in the hundreds) clientele of HIV/AIDS cases they assist. I heard the Director of Medicine at a local university runs a large volunteer (free) practice at the clinic.
We didn’t spend but perhaps four hours there, hardly enough to make an impact except upon our own consciences. We divided into several groups. Some of the lucky of us went out and weeded the little grassy plots of ground (the clinic survives on volunteer donation so they can’t afford grounds keepers). Another group went down and sterilized hypodermic syringes in a valiant effort if not to stop drug use, to slow the spread of HIV/AIDS and other blood-born diseases such as hepatitis.
Yes, my first reaction was, “Are they suborning drug use?” Then I realized in a fit of rationality, they are in the trenches of the real world. They may slow or stop addiction via this, their counseling and case management outreach, but they can’t stop the immediacy of the present storm of real people walking in off the street strung out on the fangs of addiction, twisted and pulled by rationality to stop and compulsion for that next fix, real people who still have a glimmer of hope to avoid the slow death of AIDS/HIV.
So after they finished the sterilization, they sorted new age condoms, gels and various lubricants and other niceties related to the sexual reality of this world into “safe sex hand-out packs.” One of our party had to excuse themselves because of their discomfort. I have some empathy. It really was an acid feeling in my stomach. I thought especially as a child of the 1960’s, what depth of despair has our world sunk because of our rebellion? We are diminished as a people by this pathos.
My God, what hath we wrought upon ourselves?
We collected ourselves in the basement towards the end of our single half-day day mission and considered a few questions. One question was why do we serve others, these poor people who are literally the dregs of our society?
Many, if not all of us in one way or another, voiced an opinion that mimicked intentionally or not the discourse between Jesus and the lawyer of the Pharisees who asked, “Teacher, what is the great commandment of the Law?” Jesus answers, “You shall love the Lord, your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest commandment. And a second is like it; you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the prophets.” [Matt. 22:34-40]
It is true. All we can do is help anyone we can find the way home, knowing we ourselves will be welcomed at the door when we arrive.
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