Spring greetings from all of us at Adeodatus! How terrific to feel the sun’s warmth after this winter of snowstorms and rain. If you have a moment, grab a chair and read this letter from a Kensington guy named “Joey.” His tale of growing up on the streets, without much parental presence or love, is the story of many young people today. Think of the recent “flash mobs.” The number of high-risk children of the incarcerated is a national problem. 5,000 children in Philadelphia have at least one parent in jail today. Joey, whose four year old son’s name is tattooed on his arm, calls out with a cry for all of these young people. His father was missing as Joey is now for his son! Will you listen to him, maybe put yourself in his place? Then put yourself in his son’s place: Where is my daddy?

Click here to download Voices From Prison – Issue #6

“Tom” is on my mind. As a chaplain, I saw this 26 year old inmate at The House of Correction today. One of my guys who has returned to jail again….

He trudges down the stairs from his cell a little rumpled, carrying a sheet of paper. “Something I wrote for you,” he quips as he sits near me on the metal seats at the table in the cellblock. His square face, dark buzz-cut hair, lips that make funny grimaces when he speaks, broad shoulders which I hit lightly sometimes as we converse, and endearing manner though he robbed his grandmother for drug money, make me love him like one of God’s lost sheep, even though when I walk away I think he may actually be hopeless.

We get increasingly communicative as we spend the half hour together in view of the female Correctional Officer and the other inmates who are milling around. At times he runs back to his cell to get pictures of his family (never shown to me in the past three years) and a book he offers me to read about a guy who carried a full-size crucifix around the world as his mission. Tom tells me he feels like giving up at times as he lays on his bunk with nothing to do. I draw him out about the depression he has spoken about before. Words like “empty” and “lonely” come up. I go for them, ask him about trying to write to his father who is a “mean old guy but I love him.” Tom says his dad is not the kind of guy whom you write your feelings to, this 50 year old truck driver who left his wife when Tom was seven years of age and the oldest of three, the mother a heroin addict and who died soon after. “No wonder you feel an emptiness,” I say, searching for his feelings. He doesn’t show any.
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Please make note of our new location for our weekly Adeodatus meetings.

St. Rita’s Parish Rectory

Please join us weekly on Wednesday evenings from 7:30-9 P.M. at St. Rita’s Parish Rectory 1166 South Broad Street (at Ellsworth) in South Philadelphia. Use the rectory door on the left of the Church. Welome!  (Call ahead 215-331-3640 to check for cancellation due to weather, etc.)

Adeodatus is a spiritual program helping those recently released from prison adjust to and remain in society through prayer, support and understanding of Christ. Meeting once a week in communal fellowship, it is the belief of Adeodatus that every person is good and worthy of another chance in life, and that in helping them we help their families and ourselves.

Click here to read our Prison Ministry newsletter.

Waiting in my car at the Walmart, I saw him approach from the side mirror. Instant decision…roll up the window or see what happens. It was a brilliantly beautiful day and the store was brand new so I felt safe. Not sure why. A voice said take a chance and talk to him if he talks to you. Tattooed and a little drunk he told me his story. He lived in a tent in the woods just beyond the parking lot, and had just survived one of our worst winters in history. It was his third tent. One had blown away and another had been destroyed by a mutually panicked deer. His name was Joey and he was 47 years old. He had lived in the woods for 2 years now. He was forbidden to beg from Walmart shoppers on the parking lot. So we agreed if he was stopped we were just friends havinga conversation. His mother lived in senior housing high rise nearby but he was not allowed to visit her after being found sleeping in the lobby. He hadn’t seen his father for decades and doubted he would even recognize him. His father had died in in his heart. Before they closed the nearby Catholic church Fr. Bob had let him sleep and shower in the abandoned convent, and even made dinner for him now and then. But that was all over now. Joey loved God, would read his bible in his tent until it got dark. He was currently into Corinthians. Once he went to a nearby Baptist church for bible study but forgot it wasn’t Sunday. The church was closed. Proud that he was drug free for 4 months Joey admitted he still needed vodka in the morning to control the shakes. Frustrated he lamented he just couldn’t take life much longer. The spider bites, the rain, the despair…it was all too much.

On April 5 he had remembered it was his birthday and cried bitterly. There was no cards, no cake, no recognition by anyone that he was alive. We talked about AA and places for help, but he admitted he still loved alcohol too much to give it up. I told him unless he controlled it in the end it would win. Briefly, slightly wistfully he acknowledged the demon but then changed the subject. Although I was 10 minutes passed giving him a few bucks, I was drawn to give more even though he didn’t ask for it. I told him that God didn’t forget his birthday and gave him 20 dollars. He was someone and he got a birthday present no matter what he did with it. His joy was intense.

So there we were on the Walmart parking lot surrounded by people buying more stuff. It was strange to find a man with nothing at a place that boasts it has everything. I wondered who was richer Joey or the shoppers. I reminded Joey that Jesus had little of this world just like him. They were friends, Jesus and him, travelling the cruel way of the cross. But now and then He uses someone to remind the crucified that are not forgotten and are so loved in their passion and suffering. Joey and I parted as friends and he went off to Burger King for dinner. The sun was setting over all of the franchises and the cars continued their endless suburban parade. America 2010.

Source: http://sundialmoments.blogspot.com/2010/04/joey.html

Unfortunately, I probably do not have the answer to this question. However, it is something SpirHealth.com will begin to explore and eventually define, at least for ourselves.

My initial instinct was to assume that Spiritual Health can be achieved. And, it sounded like something I would really like to achieve. But, there I go again, adding a new goal to my endless ToDo list – “achieve spiritual health.”

I turned to the internet, for better or worse, to see how others have defined this concept. And, I soon realized that spiritual health is something to practice not to achieve. Much like pursuing bodily health and fitness, it’s an ongoing practice, a lifestyle. After losing 15 pounds, it’s not too uncommon to gain the weight back. Some days I’ll eat well and exercise. Other days I will turn lazy and eat poorly. I’d assume one’s state of spiritual health fluctuates in the same way.

I eventually found a nice and short article describing one woman’s thoughts about Spiritual Health. Kara Bauer says that to her, spiritual health is:

• Peacefulness
• Presence
• Simplicity
• Acceptance
• Compassion
• and Self Awareness.

Kara’s article is also titled “What is Spiritual Health”. Give it a read and let us know qualities define Spiritual Health for you. For me, Kara’s idea of being present struck me the most. I’ll leave you with her words.

A spiritually healthy person is very in tune with the present moment and doesn’t live in the past or in the future, but instead fully accepts the current moment as the only “real” moment in which to experience life. When someone is present, they are able to experience their senses in ways they otherwise wouldn’t, resulting in clarity and fresh thinking. (click here to read more of Kara’s Article on Spiritual Health)

Thomas Merton spent his early years without the constant presence of loving parents. In his years as a young man he embraced the street life of New York city with all of its detours from God. Finally, he sensed the void, found Him, converted to Catholicism and became a Trappist monk. Tom became one of the great minds of Catholic literature in mid twentieth century America, writing many works reflective of God’s attempt to speak to us over the noise of our times.His Prayer of Trust reflects his journey and really, all of us trying to do the right thing.

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me toface my perils alone.”  -Thomas Merton

City of Numbers

Violence in the City of Brotherly Love

“We live in two worlds—they only notice each other when they collide.” The new play about violence at the Interact Theater is worth attending.  Those who are shot to death in Philadelphia and those who shoot them collide these two worlds. The story is told of one young man, who came to Philly last year to be a teacher and was shot to death for his Ipod. It makes one weep. He was white, from Minnesota. His murderer was Black, from a Philly ghetto. Victims and victimizers. Two different worlds. Sometimes.
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