An Honest Prayer

by Dion Oxford

I

t was a Wednesday evening. A group of the residents of the hostel had gathered with some of the staff to debrief the slaying of one of our own community members two nights previously. Everyone in the room was still in shock and disbelief as we attempted to deal with this. We all felt that it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

A grief counselor came in to lead the discussion, and he started off by offering anyone in the room an opportunity to pray. The room grew silent. The guy a few seats away from me, in his absolute grief and horror, uttered under his breath these powerful and all telling words; “Ah f***!”

I had never in all my years of attending church and being a student-follower of Christ heard a more honest or profound prayer. He became to me a modern-day version of the Psalmist David crying out to God in total dismay and agony. “Listen to my prayer, Oh God, do not ignore my plea; hear me and answer me…My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death assail me, fear and trembling have beset me; horror has overwhelmed me.” (Psalm 55:1, 5)

I had never in all my years of attending church and being a student-follower of Christ heard a more honest or profound prayer. He became to me a modern-day version of the Psalmist David crying out to God in total dismay and agony.

As I pondered these stark and shocking words, I realized that this prayer was my own.

Ah f*** - why did our friend have to die this way? How could a young, vibrant 26 year-old man die with one punch to the head? How can it be that his funeral was to be held the day before his 27th birthday? Why is it that the man who punched him will now spend much of his life in jail as a result of single, rash reaction?

Ah f***; why is it that just when the victim he was finally ready to deal with his addiction, and had an appointment to be admitted into a treatment centre on the following week, did his life get taken away from him?

Ah f***; why is it that when the media caught wind of this story, they decided that it was barely newsworthy, though top story that day was an issue to do with dogs? Why is it that the next five lead stories had to do with potholes, pork bellies, American politics, and school unions, and only then did they come to the senseless murder of a homeless man? Why is it that some media made it into a story about shelter safety rather than about the fact that so many people have fallen through the cracks of our society and ended up on our streets?

Ah f***; why is it that I did not receive one call from anyone in our neighbourhood to express sympathy for our loss? Why is it that no one from this community called to ask if there was anything they could do to help? Why is it that the only calls I received from any community leader were to demand an explanation for causing a disturbance in the neighbourhood?

Ah f***; why is it that when I emailed my friends who work amongst Toronto’s poor to ask for support and prayer, they each told me something to the effect that they would be with me in solidarity and that they know how I feel because they had just recently gone through a similar crisis.

Ah f***!

But then over the coming days, the God I worship, the creator and sustainer of all things, spoke to me and revealed to me some beautiful things.

Two of our residents and one of our staff members gave chase to the assailants. Our residents, in heroic bravery and at great risk to their own personal safety, caught the one of them and held him until the Police came. It was a beautiful demonstration of the value of community. It was incredible to see that the street community is functioning and healthy. It is great to know that people have each others backs covered at all cost. It makes me feel safe. We are a model of a functioning community full of broken people.

It is great to know that people have each others backs covered at all cost. It makes me feel safe. We are a model of a functioning community full of broken people.

One local TV station did cover the story and made it their mission to portray our lost community member as someone important and special. One of their well-known news personalities made a point of coming to or Shelter so that people who watch the news would know that our friend was a real person - a father and someone’s son.

As I walked through my own neighbourhood with my wife and daughter on the morning after the news coverage, a woman recognized me. She told me that she had great respect for what I do for a living.

One night another local shelter dropped off seven tickets to an upcoming Baseball game. They had heard about our tragedy and wanted to offer our people something that might take their minds off of things for a while.

When I went to my gym to blow off some steam one morning, a man who I had an argument with two years back over the issue of homelessness, came up to me and expressed how sorry he was that I had lost a friend.

Our homeless community was adamant that we have an obituary printed in the paper. They felt that all people deserve this and were willing to contribute to it out of their own - virtually empty - pockets. They also wrote a poem, had it framed, and presented it to the victim’s mother during the funeral service.

We held the funeral at our shelter. Over one hundred people came to pay their respects. Never in the history of the shelter has there been a bigger crowd in our chapel. There were many differences in the room ranging from religious beliefs, skin colour and economic status, but we each had one thing in common: our lost friend had influenced our lives and we were better people for it.

A final prayer:Thank-you God for giving us the freedom to shake our fists at you in frustration and anger and confusion. Thank-you that in the midst of that you can reveal the beauty of your creation to us and give us the strength to carry on. Amen.

Thank-you God for giving us the freedom to shake our fists at you in frustration and anger and confusion. Thank-you that in the midst of that you can reveal the beauty of your creation to us and give us the strength to carry on. Amen.

Dion Oxford is the founding and current Director of The Salvation Army Gateway, a 108-bed shelter for single men who find themselves homeless, as well as a drop-in centre for men and women. The Gateway has 48 staff that help serve close to 10000 meals each month and helps an average of 200 people per year get off the street and into more appropriate housing. Dion has been working amongst Toronto’s homeless community for the past 15 years in a number of different capacities. He has travelled across Canada as a speaker and musician with a vision of informing and educating the church and the public about issues related to poverty and homelessness. He has a BRE (Bachelor of Religious Education) from Tyndale College and is currently finishing his Masters degree at Wycliffe College. Dion is a member of the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada’s Roundtable on Poverty and Homelessness.

4 Comments to An Honest Prayer

1. My first inclination as I was reading through this piece was to leave a comment that would have sounded something like, “Man, I feel your pain! I’ve been through similar experiences…” Then I read your response to others that have said as much…

   Life happens and the fact of the matter is that life sucks a good portion of the time. What do I do to climb out of the doldrums of life around me? How do I encourage those around me to climb out as well? This piece, in some ways, reminded me of Christ’s experience with the death of his friend, Lazarus. I imagine as he stood at the entrance of the tomb, he may have had (in his fully human state) similar thoughts as the guy who uttered that prayer in the hostel.

   Dion, thanks for bringing to us a picture of humanity through this piece and through your work!
Rob on October 3rd, 2006

2. Thanks, Dion. One of the best things I learned at 614 is that God can take it - no matter what our angers/frustrations are, God can take them and redeem them as praise. That’s a living relationship with God! Sorry for your loss. grace, Rochelle
Rochelle McAlister on October 15th, 2006

3. Dion, you are my brother. it was an honor to meet you when out in Vancouver. May God comfort you in the loss of one of yours. The media doesn’t understand because it is, in the end, like all sectors of our society (including the church), a privatized business, with its own interests and economic growth in mind. Homeless people just don’t sell newspapers. I don’t give a #$%@ about the media, but I want to give my life to ensure that the church doesn’t follow those philosophies. May it be a gift to God, for the fact that he took me out of the wreckage of my own life, and raised my head. He can do it for your people too. For every tragedy there is a blessing.

   http://jayandthebean.blogspot.com
jason on October 17th, 2006

4. Dion;
   Fret not over the invisibility of some people in our world. Continue to work to ensure that nobody is invisible to the church. This is the work of God who “sees the little sparrow fall”.
   Be angry at the wasted years and the powers which controlled them. And be light, and salt, and leaven to a broken hearted community - for your touch and influence will open a door to healing.
   And pray in the spirit. Even “f***” in your earnestness. Remember Paul’s words: Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

   Blessings upon you, God’s man for the Gateway,

   Rob Knighton
Rob Knighton on October 18th, 2006

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