Corpus Christi House (Homeless Day Shelter)

Corpus Christi House

Sounds like this Kristy is dead or somethin’
Blasphemy.
Life.
Real life.
No illusions
At least not the kind that the u classes have.
Those kind need to disappear by the third night out
Or you might not make it.
The kind that SUV’s and mortgages and insurance and refrigerators and neighborhood watch give you.
I know illusions that would terrify the masses
But they won’t kill me.
But dependin’ on The Man or the Fam to pull me out,
That might.

We are the Body of Christ.
Christ is all in all.
The Word became Flesh and dwelt among us. The Absolute Center of all time and space and heaven, dwelt among us, and now dwells in us. All of us.
The community is not just those who live or work in Houses.
We are the community, every one of us, made in the image and likeness of God. I am broken, drunk, ugly, smelly, incoherent, even abusive. Yet I am a member of Christ, Christ dwells in me as in every one, perhaps more so, for I am the one He came to heal in person, when he wasn’t trying to teach those arrogant, self righteous, perfumed ones in the temple what they were supposed to know already.
Yes, I am a leper, for the leper was the worst thing you could be back then, now I am.
And He came here, He had no place to lay His head either.
He passed through the streets, the public houses, the brothels, the temple whore houses,
And looked deep into our eyes as no one ever had, tears standing in His,
As He lifted us up and said come to me, brother, sister, You are worthy,
More worthy than those in whitewashed homes who turn away from you, My Children.
He healed us of all we were willing to let go of, gave his disciples charge over us,
For we were the first communities.
Come down among me, among us, like He did, for we are your neighbor, friend, brother, sister,
And He said to help me, not only that, but, if you need some motivation, He said you might just go to Hell if you don’t help me.
You will find Faith in all of us, for we could not survive without it.
You may not see it, detect it, we are not showy, we are not hypocrites, that wouldn’t be real
We know the ones who preach it out here are usually doing it wrong, those who talk too much out here have a lot to learn.

Yeah, I know it’s the Body of Christ in Latin.
I know you think I’m stupid.
Why else would I be here, right?
Well mister, I know you ain’t gonna get it when I tell you u just don’t get it, but mister you just don’t get it.
In my gentler, more Socratic moments, I feel sorry for you, cause I get you, U are my folks, and I was almost you,
Not so very long ago.
Your illusions keep you safe
But they are killing me.
But you never been the me I am now and u never will be
‘cause you got the Golden Key
In your freshly mowed front lawn and you cry about the cost of living
As you swipe your gold card for a big dime of groceries,
(Would you like to donate a dollar today?
No, I did when I picked up the deli tray and mixers for the bridge club.)
While I skin you tins and droppings out of your garbage cans.
An u leave bread out for the birds but you lock the dumpster so I can’t freak you out
When I climb out with the good stuff
And…naaah, u just don’t get it.
‘cause you will take what nobody will eat,
And feel good about driving down here
And droppin it off for me.
Don’t forget your receipt.
Yeah, I must be stupid.
Well mister, I got damn near the big 4.0
My first two years in college.
Yeah. Core curriculum, don’t get ya shit but educated
And then the Fed cuts back on work study and grants
And my folks won’t
Go for the loans and I’m over eighteen so they moved
Without tellin’ me the new address.
You can only camp the dorms for so long till they bounce you.
Student insurance ran out in May
But that was ok, the SS turned out to be a better deal anyway.
And No, Damnit, I do not do drugs,
I take psychotropic meds,
Mix my stuff with coke or crack and I’d be dead man.
Who can afford that shit anyway.
Out here you get that fucked up, you either get popped by da Man or you get stupid and die.
And No I do not get locked up for the comforts, man.
If that’s what you think then you just don’t get it.
Dis ain’t Bonanza man! Da lock up is hell from da pop to the drop, you just don’t get it.
Street Crud is for the U babies.
You spend your Fed check on street crap and you got nothing but the shits,
An if dey find out, you got no Fed.
You just don’t get it.
I know you think I’m stupid.
‘cause I don’t risk it all
To get what you got.
But, Dude, I got my Honor
And I know u won’t get that
Mr. J., he knows about honor,
And If you really got Him,
Then you would truly,
Honestly
Get me.
I am just like you,
I just lost the Gold Key
And once you lose it,
People think you don’t deserve it
And sooner or later it pisses you off so bad something in you doesn’t want it anymore,
Whether you know it or not.
At least out here
Everything is real
Even if no one sees or hears it but my schizophrenic self.
At least my crosswired brain doesn’t look the other way
When it sees evil.
Out here you see evil and you got to deal with it or somebody dies.
Somebody dies out here and it rips through us all like
A ragged knife through the gut,
‘Cause you KNOW for Absolute Certain
NO PIOUS BS, no illusions, honest to God you know
“There but for the grace of God go I.”
And it hurts so bad…….
And U say the same thing to yourselves when you look at me.
U see, when u talk about surviving, it’s maintaining your status quo,
When we talk about survival, we’re talking about remaining alive.
And, Damnit, I am really just like you,
But you, somehow you think you are…
Naaaah…U just won’t get it.

And no, I wasn’t born, I was made
Bruised and battered by bitter Circumstance
And I’ve ALWAYS been out here
And that scares the Hell out of you
Whether you know it or not.

Thanks for the food, thanks for the clean, open bathroom, thanks for the roof over my head, even if its not always available, thanks for caring, thanks for trying to understand, trying not to judge, thanks for the God stuff, Thanks for knowing that its all too little, and wondering what else you could possibly do. Thanks for everything you do, I am not ungrateful. But, please, I am not “them”, I am you.



Streets of Philadelphia
Bruce Springsteen

I was bruised and battered and I couldn’t tell
What I felt
I was unrecognizable to myself
I saw my reflection in a window I didn’t know
My own face
Oh brother are you gonna leave me
Wastin´away
On the streets of …………..

I walked the avenue till my legs felt like stone
I heard the voices of friends vanished and gone
At night I could hear the blood in my veins
Black and whispering as the rain
On the streets of ……………

Ain’t no angel gonna greet me
It’s just you and I my friend
My clothes dont fit me no more
I walked a thousand miles
Just to slip the skin

The night has fallen, I’m lyin’ awake
I can feel myself fading away
So receive me brother with your faithless kiss
Or will we leave each other alone like this
On the streets of philadelphia