Security Guards & Grace

by Christopher C. Thompson  |  30 August 2024  |  

This may not be a word-for-word account—it’s difficult to remember precisely the words that were spoken, after what started out as such a distressing experience. Yet, this is basically what took place. 

And I think our church may have made God proud today. 

I arrived at the church at around 9 AM. I knew I had a long list of to-do items, and taking my son to school would take me by the office. So after I dropped him off, it only made sense to circle back and start my office hours early. There I could work on all my administrative tasks.

I am glad that I opted to be in the office, but the day did not progress as I intended. 

I hadn’t been sitting in the office for very long when my dear treasurer walked in with reports for the upcoming board meeting. She shared with me some minor updates, and asked me if I had any questions. As we conferred, a woman whom I had never seen before burst in through the front door (I can see the front door from my office), and she began calling out into the church for assistance. “Hello?! Hello?!…” She was obviously annoyed and frustrated.

Karen’s complaint

“My name is Karen Karenson (not her real name, of course, but I think you know what I mean), and I live down the street and around the corner. Who owns this property?” I think she was shocked and a bit disappointed when I told her that we own it. She kept asking, several more times, “Who owns the property?” “We own it, ma’am.” “The whole thing?!” I suppose she couldn’t imagine that we would be able to purchase a small strip mall.

“I’m here because our neighbors have been complaining about the homeless couple that lives on the property. They’re going to the toilet on the property, and the smell is coming into our neighborhood.” At this point, I was already upset and annoyed. I wasn’t buying the bit about the smell of human waste, but her attitude was nasty. If you remember, I recently shared with you about the couple that we have been allowing to live on the edge of our property. I mentioned that we have allowed them to stay because we know that their situation is complicated and they are in dire straits—and that it’s a cruel, cold world. At least here they are relatively safe. 

But suddenly, in this moment, it became apparent that we were on to something by letting them stay. Some semblance of safety and security from that cruel and cold world was necessary. Because this woman was angry. She had become the self-appointed security guard, patrolling and protecting our property without our knowledge. She had called the police, and when I didn’t give her the answers that she liked, she went outside and retrieved the two officers so that they could set all of us wayward do-gooders straight.

I have hardly ever been inclined to give compliments to the police—I’ve written about that in the past. But I have to admit, these guys were on it. They were not impressed nor influenced by this angry and overzealous Karen. I tried my best to graciously explain that several members of our ministry team have been working carefully with the couple to help them transition. She insisted, “Well, maybe your ministry leaders need to step it up and work a little harder.”

I was annoyed—and astounded. Why was she so upset that these people existed? She clearly had this “not in my backyard” framework in full effect.

Why we do it

I’m inclined to think more systematically. If we expel them from our property, do they magically stop drinking, stop making a mess, and stop using the bathroom wherever they find a spot? Of course not! They simply find someone else’s property where they continue nuisance behavior. I would much rather they stay in this spot where there is minimal impact on the wider residential community, and where we might have access to them, so we can help connect them to some resources.

I spoke directly to the police about about this, and told how we have offered support. 

As she listened a bit, she felt obligated to chime in again. “Well, I’m a Christian. I go to church every Sunday. I volunteer and I help out a lot in the community. I’ve never seen them myself, but our neighbors are complaining.” I responded: “Well, since you’re a Christian, then maybe you’d like to know their names so you can help us pray for their transformation.” “Sure, I’ll pray for them because it’s time for them to go.” 

It was puzzling to me why their misfortune and dysfunction made her angry and upset rather than compassionate and sympathetic. How is it that a committed Christian wasn’t initially inclined to lend a hand? The police chimed in again, “Well, maybe your neighbors can partner with this church to help the couple find some resources. There’s nothing we can’t do when we work together.” She would not bend. “I already help a lot in the community.…” It was evident that she wasn’t interested in helping anyone else, besides helping her comfortable Caucasian neighbors rest easy knowing that they had expelled the “vagrants” from nearby. 

She would not be deterred. She continued spouting off how much the church needed to step up its game to get them on the straight and narrow. After a while, the ranking officer signaled for the other officer to escort her out, and he stayed by to talk further. We talked about trespassing law, the process we were taking to support the couple, and what our leadership team had discussed would be the limits of that process. He asked me what other resources Adventist Community Services provides. Finally, he inquired about ways that the police could potentially partner with our church to bring greater awareness to safety and health issues in our community. We talked for at least another thirty minutes. I’m confident that that conversation will bear fruit in the future. That guy is a good cop.  

Later that afternoon I saw the couple as I returned to the church property after a few errands. I stopped and relayed to them some of what had happened so that they knew what the stakes were, and so that they understood that we would be held responsible for poor sanitation on the property. They promised to help out more.

They asked about the midweek service, and promised to attend. And they did—just as they have several times in the last few weeks. Coincidentally, as they walked into the church tonight, I noticed a different couple from the adjacent neighborhood riding through our parking lot on a golf cart. I’m sure they were coming to spy on the couple because of the route they took right past their little camp. I hurried out to the parking lot and called out to them. After all, they were on private property. They looked back and saw me calling, but kept driving in the opposite direction.

It appears the word is out. Our church is a refuge for broken people. I think I like the sound of that.

Christopher C. Thompson is a pastor in Beaufort, South Carolina.

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