One of the first things that struck me when I began getting to know my friends at Sanctuary London was their courage to risk being honest about what they were going through. Whether it was a job they lost, housing that didn’t work out, a fight that broke up a friendship, spiritual doubt, anxiety, fears, debt, or addictions, they often found some way to share. This willingness to be open and vulnerable was a surprise to me, and something I deeply respected and appreciated, because I didn’t know how to do this well myself.

And the more they shared, the more I realized that no one was judging; instead, it was simply accepted that it was normal to have struggles, and it seemed to be this common ground of shared brokenness that brought them closer. I was struck by the rare gift of a community where everyone is loved just as they are. I could see that Sanctuary London was a place where it was safe for them to be real with one another and share their stories, and I knew that I was going to learn a lot from this community.

I have longed to experience this kind of connectedness, but have always found it hard to admit my struggles. When I first started to attend the Sanctuary drop-in meals, and my friends would ask me how I was doing, my usual response would be, “I’m fine,” even when things in my life felt messy or difficult or sad. As I learn to admit my needs, this has helped me to understand that we’re all the same in this community, and we all equally need God and each other.

A few months ago, one of my friends declared to me, “you’re always happy, so I know that you’ve never had any pain in your life.” Another friend asked me if nothing ever bothered me. These were difficult words to hear, because they were a reminder that I was hiding the real me. Slowly, my friends were teaching me about true relationships, and they were teaching me about God. I realized that the more honest they were about their struggles, the more I saw how much God was loving them, and the more I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could trust him to also want me and love me, just as I am.

When my friend Carla shares with me that she’s so broke she has to pawn her guitar that she loves, or when my friend Scott shares that he’s depressed, or Darren tells me he can’t stand the loneliness of his apartment, or Lisa tells me she doesn’t fit in anywhere, or Sandra asks me why friendship is so very hard, I feel a little less embarrassed about my own insecurities and problems, because I know I’m not alone.

Lately, I’ve been contemplating how hiding our brokenness from our friends and from God prevents us from fully receiving God’s love and healing. If I hide who I really am because I’m afraid to risk being honest, will I miss out on God’s beautiful invitation for his healing and light in my places of pain and darkness? And if, as a loving community, we are each part of the story of the paralytic being carried by his friends to Jesus, then it becomes apparent that I have a significant choice to make: do I always want to be the one carrying my friends, or do I allow them the opportunity to carry me as well?

Written by a member of the Sanctuary Community

It's almost Thanksgiving weekend, and here at Sanctuary London, we have SO MUCH to be thankful for!

It's been a couple of busy weeks for the Sanctuary community here in London.  On Wednesday, October 5th we had our huge Thanksgiving feast with all the fixin's.  Before opening with prayer, our friends were asked to share a few things that they were thankful for.  The response was overwhelming!  After over five minutes of "I'm thankful for this…" and I’m thankful for that…" we actually had to cut people off to prevent the food from getting too cold!  All of our meat for the night (turkey AND chicken!) was donated, and there was plenty of food to spare, so we sent it home with our friends after all 90+ people were full to the brim!

On September 23rd a group of 27 of the people from our core community embarked on a three-day retreat to a magnificent summerhouse on Lake Erie.  It was an opportunity not just to get away and relax and fellowship, but also to study scripture and grow spiritually together.  There were four very focused sessions in which together we learned about four different "Portraits of Jesus" from the gospels. 

On Saturday night we studied the crucifixion of our Messiah.  Two dramatic readings were shared, the first from the perspective of Barabbas, who, like us fully deserved to be punished for the crimes he committed.  The second story was from the perspective of Simon of Cyrene.  Simon was forced to literally carry the cross for Jesus to the place where He was to be crucified.  In Mark 8: 34-38, Jesus says to each one of us today, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me".  Can you see yourself in both of these men’s' shoes?  Christ took yours and my place on the cross.  But he also asks for us to respond by taking up our own crosses and follow Him.  So, after these two stories were shared, each person at the retreat was given the opportunity to light a candle and place it on the cross (we made) to symbolically lay our pain, condemnation, struggles and guilt at the foot of the cross, and in community, pick up the comfort, joy, responsibility, peace and changes that come with following our Savior.  It was an incredible experience and many of our friends shared some pretty amazing stories not only of the pain in their lives, but also about how God is working in their hearts to bring about healing.

We would like to send out a huge thank you to the Postma family for welcoming us into your home, and providing a beautiful location for this retreat!

On October 1st Sanctuary hosted its first Royal Ball.  It was an incredible opportunity for the greater Sanctuary community to come together and celebrate as one body.  After opening with delicious desserts, Greg Paul, founder of Sanctuary Toronto, shared some very encouraging words with us, and then…  What better way to celebrate than by dancing for our King?  Ballroom Breeze taught a quick dance lesson and then the entire community rose to our feet and danced the rest of the night away!

Thanks to everyone who joined us for the Ball, and also to those who couldn't make it but sent in donations to help with the costs of the evening.  We would also like to thank John Sloan who took on the role of organizing the event.  What an amazing night!

“I’ve been to several different churches across Ontario. At most churches, when I wheel my way in, the people are always friendly, but guarded, and somehow there always seems to be a barrier. Truth is, I’m different.

It’s not that I am poor in the socioeconomical sense; I have enough money to provide for myself. But for the most part, I am stuck in this wheelchair, and that makes many people feel uncomfortable. So people are always nice, but they just can’t see past the fact that I am different, and that prevents people from getting to know who I really am.

And then I heard about Sanctuary London. I was nervous, but within seconds of coming through the front doors, I was greeted and introduced to many friendly faces, and it didn’t just stop there. I was invited to join in on a game of euchre, and before long we were sharing life together. I was welcomed as one who belonged. Much more than accepted – I feel wanted!

What I’ve come to learn is that we all face challenges. Some struggle financially, some struggle with addictions or housing issues; most of us struggle relationally and with loneliness. The point is: we all struggle. I think the difference at Sanctuary is that the people here seem to intimately understand the pain of exclusion, and they understand how their social circumstances create barriers to their inclusion in society – just like me.

But, when we stop hiding our struggles, we can finally start to get to know one another, and we begin to recognize that we’re really not that different after all!”

At Sanctuary, we often talk about the fact that folks who are relatively rich and those who are relatively poor are “more alike than different”. There is truth to that. There are fundamental aspects of what it means to be human that we share in common: dreams, disappointments, love, hurt, pride, etc… When middle-class type people hang out with folks who are homeless, this is one of the discoveries that they make. And it’s a good one.

But there are differences. And some of them are counter-intuitive. Allow me to reflect on a few that we come up against pretty regularly…

The value of ‘being served’. I really enjoy going out to dinner. I like it when I don’t have to do anything except order off the menu and wait for the food to arrive. In extreme cases, I could go so far as to say that I find the treatment ‘kingly’. It’s nice to be waited on hand-and-foot.

So why, at Sanctuary, do we eat our meals family-style? Or why do we have our street-involved friends work in the kitchen instead of sitting down while we wait on them? Wouldn’t it be a treat for them to be treated like royalty?

Ultimately, I think, it’s about power. In a restaurant, I have the power. I’m the king. I’ve got the money. I order what I want. My tip reflects my satisfaction. I enjoy being served – on my terms!

If we are not careful, it can have a very different feel in a drop-in setting. Here, the servers are king. The ‘customers’ aren’t even allowed in the kitchen. It’s not that they prefer to sit and be served – rather they are excluded from the kitchen. As a group, they aren’t trusted in the kitchen – whether because of their hygiene, because of safety or for whatever other reason. The customer doesn’t choose the meal, can’t complain about the service…nothing. Utterly powerless. At Sanctuary, we want to turn this model on its head and give the power back to our friends who rarely get to hold it.

The value of a gift. Free stuff! What could be better? Costco is giving out free samples! I could eat a whole meal here! I got a coupon in the mail for a free tube of toothpaste! My friend surprised me and offered to treat me to a birthday dinner. This is great!

But what if your life consists of receiving free stuff? What if the free stuff doesn’t, in fact, reflect your ability to manage your finances creatively or affirm your intrinsic worth as a contributing member of society? What if, instead, it reaffirms to you that you’re utterly dependent on the charity of strangers for even the most basic of needs?

That same “treat you to a meal” can have its perceived meaning quickly change from “Your friendship is a gift to me that I wish to honour” to “You’re a poor soul desperate for food and frankly I don’t trust that, if I gave you this $10, you would even spend it on food.” I don’t think many (or any?) of us would ever intend that, but it very easily could be the message that gets heard.

The value of a wage. A teenager gets her first job at McDonalds and begins earning $10/hour, working 10 hours a week…that’s $100/week or about $5,000/year. Sweet! And the very fact of having that job is a boost – it means I have been deemed to have merit: I applied, I interviewed and I was accepted. I feel great and the fact that I’m getting paid anything at all is a bonus!

But what if my primary qualification is the very opposite of the scenario I have just described? What if my main qualification is the fact that I’m a 48 year-old guy who has battled addiction and mental illness for years, have lived in a shelter for the last year and a half, and am being given ‘one last chance’ because no one figures I’ll ever get a real job on my own? I wonder, in this situation, if earning minimum wage isn’t just one more painful reminder that, after all these miles, I’m no farther ahead than a high school kid.

So what…?

These observations aren’t true 100% of the time nor should we pretend that they are. But they are true with some regularity. While my friends who live on the street are so very much just like me in many regards, there are some differences worth noting. The value of personal relationship can’t be overstated. Only as I get close to my friend will I know how my well-meaning actions are being received. And while some action is probably better than none at all, how much better if we could take steps towards having our kindnesses received in the spirit in which they were intended!

Written by Alan Beattie of Sanctuary Toronto

"Can we talk?" Tank asked me as I walked downtown.  His question surprised me.  Tank doesn't talk much.  He is as tough as his nickname.  Closed, muscular, speaking with short, quick words and a furled brow… tough. 

"What's up?" I replied.

"My baby passed away this week…  When she was born, her mom and I agreed that I wouldn't be part of her life… but she was born with a heart problem… she died this past week.  I don't even know what she looked like…  I felt it for the first time as I walked here alone this afternoon…  You know my son was taken three and a half years ago…  We were too young and gave him up for adoption…  I hear things about him from the agency…  He's in a good home." Tank tried to smile.

I asked some detail questions.  Tank shared some glowing reports about his son.  And some anguish about his daughter.

"I just figured out…  I've lost both of my children…"

"I'm sorry, brother."

"Yeah…" and then it was gone… the safety, the vulnerability, the side of Tank no one gets to see.  Tank caught himself in the moment and closed down again with an off topic question.

I answered.  And Tank found an opening to leave.  He walked away.  Tough as the streets again.

It was a moment.  Perhaps a couple of minutes – tops.  But Tank felt safe for that moment.  In that moment, we found 'home' together.