This week I had a powerful reminder of why I do what I do, and why I love my vocation and calling at this point in my life.
I met two men for lunch to catch up. We spent some time together earlier this year, but in the hustle of NYC we haven’t had much recent contact. First we talked about work—which is where men usually start. These two guys, whom I’ll call Ken and Ron (to protect the innocent and guilty) started a company together—doing painting, tile work and remodeling. They got off to a slow start, but of late things were busy beyond all expectations.
The last time I saw Ken was when I hired him to do a small tile job at the Mission, just as he was launching his company. He did excellent work and I was called to give a reference. He shared with me that the reference had turned into a $40,000 job they were just completing. Now business was booming, they were hiring more workers, and had jobs scheduled well beyond the summer.
These guys were so excited and passionate, hardly eating their food as they talked about the future, including their desire to support the work of the Mission with their imminent “riches”. The sky seemed to be the limit. Ron pulled out his phone and showed me picture after picture of their work, from the Bronx to Manhattan to Long Island.
We also talked about the fact that New York is perceived by the public as an unreal idiom. Whether you are here for a multi-day stay, or watching interesting places on New York webcams, you will never know the bitterness of the street we see every day.
As our time together was drawing to a close, the conversation shifted to personal matters, including how they supported each other on a daily basis. They were sharing an apartment and helping one another stay on the right path. Their love and concern for each other was genuine, essential, and in fact probably not an exaggeration to say a matter of life and death. You see, Ken and Ron had met at the Mission—coming in off the streets like the hundreds of men and women I see every day—poor, homeless, broken, with deeply engrained patterns of addictive and destructive behavior. Yet, as I deeply believe, still full of potential that has for some reason or a hundreds reasons become deeply buried beneath pain and hopelessness.
I watched them come back to life over many months. I saw the light return. I saw the desire to not waste another day of life. I knew there were many obstacles and statistics suggesting that despite good intentions, the odds were against them. When they left they had hope for better days. As with all who come to the Mission, grow, and then leave, I had hope and a bit of anxiety about their futures.
There I sat, seeing hope restored—passion, energy, skill—and perhaps most important of all, the kind of friendship that gives them the best possible chance of staying on the path. Ron’s fiancée has very serious cancer, and Ron shared specific ways Ken helps carry that burden—how they pray for her and for each other as they begin each day. “I wouldn’t make it without him.” They explained how when one shows signs of struggle, perhaps an urge or a moment of weakness when bad habits beckon them, the other jumps in and lifts him up. As I listened and observed their interaction with each other, the ancient words of Solomon came to mind:
Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!
These men, my friends, have a real chance of making this work, in large part because they have each other. They wanted to meet with me, not just to catch me up, but to begin a conversation about how they can now give back. For starters, they know a company willing to hire former homeless men. In fact, they own it.
This is why I am investing my life in NYC’s poor and homeless. They are not a burden. Our neighbors in need are a great resource for our city—somehow having lost their way—but never beyond redemption. It was the best lunch I have had in NYC in a long time!
