Hosting Safe Ground

Kirsten Paisley joined Trinity a few months ago with a passion for serving people who are homeless.  We had already begun a relationship with the “Safe Ground” movement in Sacramento.   Here’s a reflection from her about our new ministry hosting homeless people in our parish hall.  It was originally posted on Trinity’s Crosstalk Blog.

I ought to be sleeping.  I was up half the night, by choice, helping Safe Ground do security upstairs where the women slept.  Really I was a presence; someone friendly from Trinity who could help them feel safe.  And for that reason, I don’t mind the lost rest.  I can always take naps.  I’ve never lacked a warm bed.

We’ve been hosting homeless people overnight, once or twice a week since the middle of December.  We started hosting Safe Ground when the weather turned wintry.  Steve realized that there would be people sleeping out on that first cold night, got the right permissions, and went out to find them.  I missed the first night, because I was out of town.  But I’ve been there every night we’ve hosted since.  I wouldn’t miss it.  Being with this community—these communities together—is entirely too much fun.

I’ve had a relationship with Safe Ground since early fall; Brian pointed me toward them.  But I’ve mostly interacted with them at meetings (either their own, or the Sacramento Homeless Organizing Committee).  My passion for street ministry led me to Trinity.  Before we started hosting, I knew some Safe Ground members, and they knew me as an advocate.  It’s an entirely enriching experience to be with them on a sleepover night.  They’re no longer “homeless people,” in the abstract.  They’re not stereotypes.  They’re a bunch of really nice people.  We’ve all gotten to know them, and they’ve gotten to know us.  We’ve talked about anything from how cold it is in a tent by the river, to expanding universes and what might be beyond them.  We’ve had fun together.  Some came at Christmas, saying that they knew they’d be welcome.  They feel like friends.  They feel like part of us.

If that’s not the reign of God in our midst, I don’t know what is.  I’m so grateful to be part of a community that encourages these relationships.  I’m grateful for the generous, open, and loving people whom I get to serve with.  I’m grateful for all the open doors.

Here is something like a typical night:

We open our doors at 4 p.m.  Loaves and Fishes closes at three; this gives our guests time to make their way over here, without keeping them out in the cold too long.   Their security, usually elected leaders, are among the first to arrive.  They sign in everyone who follows, at a long table set up just inside the doors to the Great Hall.  Some nights we’ll have 40; sometimes 90.  It depends on how broadly the word gets out among them.  Sometimes it’s quiet, and people keep mostly to themselves.  Other times it feels like a big party.  Last night, Steve borrowed music from Tina, and from Cherie in the bookstore.  We rocked to the Big Chill soundtrack for awhile, on Dana’s boombox.  (One of the women asked me for “Jesus songs.”  But she was dancing, too.)

People from Trinity make dinner in the kitchen; often assisted by people from Safe Ground.  Tables are set up in a classroom off the Great Hall; one long table for serving, and others for eating together.  We wheel dinner across the hall on a cart, and serve whenever it’s ready; anytime between 5:30 and 6:30 or so.  We serve with our guests, and eat with them.  There are always stories at the table.

After dinner, people hang out and do whatever—talk, play cards, read.  We hang out with them.  We plan to open up the cathedral for anyone who wants a quiet space to meditate, pray, or be.  Safe Ground signs out sleeping bags starting at 8 p.m, and people start bedding down around that time.  Lights generally go out at 9.

Men sleep in the Great Hall; women sleep in two classrooms off the back stairs.  One of the elected leaders (called “elders” in the group) asked me to stay awake with the women for awhile last night, to give her a break.  I agreed, because I saw that she was exhausted.  I knew that a book would put me right to sleep, so I curled up in my sleeping bag and played games on my laptop for a few hours, listening to the sounds all around me.

I was the last to be ready for bed, and I flicked off the lights.  At first, I heard talking; conversations back and forth in the other room.  That faded to congested breathing, shifting positions, snoring from every direction.  It wasn’t long before I was the only one awake.

I stayed awake until about 12:30; I couldn’t make it anymore.  And every so often, for those three and a half hours, I’d hear the same voice call out, “Thank you, Jesus.”

I’m sure she was sleeping.  She was maybe five feet away.  And she didn’t make any other sounds.  She wasn’t trying to attract attention.  She wasn’t having a detailed conversation with any being, visible or invisible.  But every time she moved, it came out like a reflex:  “Thank you, Jesus.”

How many of us pray in our sleep?  We fall asleep praying, sure.  I do.  And sometimes, going about our day, we might be struck with the urge to say, “Thank you,” to the love that is beyond us and that gives us life.  But while we are sleeping?  When we’re not aware of anything?  Does your unconscious pray out loud?  How many of us are that closely tethered to God?

I’ve been thinking about her since.  I don’t have a lot of material things, but I have everything I need.  She has nothing but her friends and her faith.  I still, too often, let worry and fear carry me off my feet.  She speaks her gratitude, in her sleep.

Overnight hosts get up around 5, to prepare breakfast and get coffee going.  Lights come on at 6, and breakfast is served shortly thereafter.  During this time, people are waking up and packing up.  Safe Ground cleans the rooms they’ve used, and mops the Great Hall.  They’re almost always gone by 8 a.m.

If you want to help, there are lots of things you can do.  Come and cook dinner.  Hang out for awhile and get to know people.  (Bring an instrument, if you play!)  Stay the night, and help serve breakfast to our guests before they head out in the morning.  Contact Steve Skiffington if you want to be part of this.  He coordinates overnight hosting; he’ll add you to the e-list so you’ll know whenever our community is needed.

Every night is different.  The constants are these:  You will be thanked more times than you can count, for doing something that you truly enjoy.  You will find something in common with someone to whom you might never have spoken.  And you will be part of community in action.

Come.  Taste, and see.

Kirstin Paisley