A Nearly Perfect Day

"Almost like heaven on earth." That is how I often describe the days when my Downtown Teens and our friends work and play and break bread together. I heard a Jesuit friend of mine died over the weekend. His legacy to me was his famous words: "It's a good life". My family and friends often hear me say those two things: "Like heaven on earth" and "I have a great life".

I have been writing about Volunteer Days at Little House. We have had two great weekends of working with friends, the Downtown Teens and residents of Little House to make our Little House a little homier.

This 130 year-old home is fraught with many items of routine maintenance along with the deferred maintenance necessary due to age. The battle is constantly to make the Little House feel warmer, homier and cozier to the residents who share housing in our four-family. We hope to instill a family atmosphere for our residents and for our Teens. Like with every family, even the best occasions can be marred by a single incident. In this case, after a long day of fixing and painting, it was discovered that one of our friend's had been the victim of a crime--the loss of money from her purse.

How does one deal with the sour note struck at the end of a beautiful symphony? Does it ruin the whole symphony for you? If I let it, it does for me. I am trying to contemplate all of the good of the weekend and put the sour incident in that context. I can't ignore the perpetrator. I want to make the next performance perfect, so I must address the incident. But how? I want to give an opportunity for the one or ones who marred an otherwise perfect day, to do the right thing. I want to find a way to make it easier for them to do the right thing.

It is not the first time that I have dealt with the darker side of human behavior. I certainly have to deal with it in my own life. I recognize many mitigating factors for those who feel they have less, to want more. I don't rationalize the behavior on my part (not for long anyway) and don't want to rationalize or excuse bad behavior on the part of those with whom I share my life.

Many scenarios leap to mind.These scenarios range from denial to acceptance. I try to convince myself, that the victim was wrong about the loss of money, or that they will discover it soon. I think that perhaps someone I don't know, slipped in and committed the crime. I think about who has motive. Who had opportunity? Who would do such a thing? Who is still so disconnected from me, that they would show that kind of disrespect for my friend? I have rehearsed several homilies on the topic of honesty in my head. I share my heartache over the event with those whom I respect and try to gain from their insights. I speculate as to who might have done this crime. My feelings take me from hurt to angry to disappointed to sad, back to hurt. My response to my feelings range from revenge to avoidance of conflict--shutting down. In my desire for revenge, I want to "fire" all of the Teens and evict my neighbors. To avoid conflict I want to withhold trust and not put myself in that situation again.

I am reminded that I am a parental/teacher figure in the life of our Teens. I am also a neighbor/landlord to those who live with us. How do I manage these different roles to the benefit of those who I am here to serve? As any parent will tell you, it is more fun to be a friend rather than authority figure. I struggle to maintain a balance. I fail miserably.

I mentioned breaking bread. When I use that phrase, it puts me in remembrance of the oft quoted Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker movement. Dorothy said in various words and ways:

"The most significant thing about The Catholic Worker is poverty, some say. The most significant thing is community, others say. We are not alone anymore. But the final word is love. At times it has been, in the words of Father Zossima [a character in The Brothers Karamozov], a harsh and dreadful thing, and our very faith in love has been tried through fire. We cannot love God unless we love each other, and to love we must know each other. We know Him in the breaking of the bread, and we know each other in the breaking of the bread, and we are not alone anymore. Heaven is a banquet and life is a banquet, too, even with a crust, where there is companionship."

Help me know. Help me not be alone. Help me to let others know they are not alone. Help me share that Heavenly banquet on earth.

I welcome your insights and responses to help me relate this to my Teens and neighbors this coming weekend for our last "Volunteer Day" at Little House. Please join us if you can. 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. to know, to love and to banquet together, even with the crust.