Social change begins with a sense of righteousness. We know what’s wrong with the world and we’re sure we know how to fix it. That gives us a sense of conviction, which is powerful, but opens activists to a kind of prideful certainty that can lead to error. We need to listen to dissenting voices, and watch as circumstances shift, and stay connected to the real lives of the real people we’re trying to help.
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We’ve been talking for the last several weeks about effective strategies that make for successful progress toward our goals. Whether we’re talking about goals for social change, or goals for personal or spiritual growth, these are the tools that will get us there. This is the spiritual question of purpose, “What should we do?”
We start, always, with building community. We need a support system. We need allies. We need co-workers. We need encouragers, collaborators, and compatriots. We need buddies, and partners, a congregation, a team.
And we need to not unnecessarily limit our community by pushing away folks who want to work with us on the project at hand, merely because they can’t or won’t be allies with us on some other project. Let’s make big, broad, inclusive communities. And let’s accept that the community formed to work on today’s project may include folks who weren’t with us on the last project or who maybe won’t be with us on the next project. That’s OK.
The strategy I want to present today is related in a way to the strategy I talked about last week.
Last week, I titled my sermon “Begin at the End” and what I meant is that our work should be motivated by a clear vision of what we’re working to achieve. We need to start with a vision of the end point clearly in mind, and let that vision motivate our work and keep us committed.
If our present motivation is only anger at the latest horrible news of today, rather than a long-term vision of change, then our activism will only be “re-activism” and once the energy is spent on the protest, we will have accomplished only performance, not purpose.
So I titled my sermon, “Begin at the End.” But you could also call that strategy, “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize.” What are you trying to achieve? And what are the necessary steps to get you to your goal? How do you get all the way there? And when we’re talking about social change, or personal growth, there are always a lot of steps between the beginning and the end.
And my point for today is that the end, always, has to be, the relief of suffering. Real change for real people. Actual help. Actual lives made actually better. More health. More security. More satisfaction. More joy. More life. The goal has to be real lives made better.
As I phrase it in my elevator-speech description of Unitarian Universalism: “Unitarian Universalists believe that human beings are good enough, smart enough, and strong enough, to create lives of health and joy for ourselves, for each other, and for the world we share.”
Until we reach the goal of real lives of real health and joy, for ourselves, for each other, and for the world we share, we aren’t done. We haven’t achieved our purpose. Everything else we do in our work for social change is simply a step along the path. There will be many steps, constituting many different kinds of work. But the last step has to be the real lives, of real people (or other living creatures), really better.
The danger I want to point out today is a trap that I think Unitarian Universalists are particularly susceptible to. And that trap is, our attraction to theory.
We love ideas. We love mental exercise. We are obsessive about getting our thinking right. We want to know. We want to educate ourselves. We want to read the books, and have the discussion. We want to raise our consciousness. We want to understand.
And that is all good.
And those are all necessary steps toward the goal of making meaningful social change, or personal growth.
But getting the theory right shouldn’t be our goal. Our goal, as change agents in our own lives or the lives of others, should be health and joy in the real lives of real people. When we care more about our theory than we care about people, then we’ve fallen into the trap.
Fourteen years ago, I started working with the First Unitarian Church of Los Angeles. Before I got there the congregation had embarked on an ambitious project of working with a developer to build low-income housing on four lots of church-owned land surrounding the church.
Initially, we were going to use only two lots of land, but the developer required a bigger project to make it financially feasible. So we added two additional lots currently occupied by our church’s religious education building, which we rented to a preschool. So the project grew, from two lots, to four lots, with underground parking for the church and for the building tenants, and a new classroom facility to replace the pre-school that had to be demolished.
Our developer, Mercy Housing, was a non-profit developer. Their projects relied on public funds. We pulled together money from several public sources including Federal and State grants and the LA County Department of Mental Health that was looking to build supportive housing for its clients. So we ended up with a plan where we would build 85 units of low-income housing, about one third of the units unrestricted, except for the low-income requirement, another third reserved for families caring for the children of extended family members who might otherwise end up in the foster care system, and the final third for Department of Mental Health clients, who would also have access to onsite case management services, and access to support programs, such as a food program, an exercise program, and a children’s tutoring program provided by the church, plus the onsite free preschool that would be operated by the YMCA.
Great stuff, right?
Well it was. And the Caroline Severance Manor, named after the founder of First Church opened in 2016.
And I have to tell you I learned a heck of a lot I never thought I’d need to know about housing development. And, because of the special population that we housed in the Caroline Severance Manor, I also learned a lot about the homeless population of Los Angeles, and persons at risk for homelessness, and what was required to help some formerly homeless people be successful in housing.
Early in my work at First Church, I learned that the housing authority in Los Angeles followed a theory called Housing First.
Here’s the theory, briefly.
Most houseless persons are neither mentally ill, nor drug-addicted. Some are of course, and addressing those needs are an important part of helping that population be successful in housing.
But here’s the question. For the portion of the houseless population that need help with mental health and addiction issues, is it better to help them get well before you set them up in housing, or is it better to get them into housing first and then address their further needs?
The Recovery model says that our goal should be physically, mentally, and spiritually whole persons able to live independently. So the Recovery model begins with inviting people into temporary shelters, working with them to resolve the issues that are holding them back, and then, when the person is ready, helping them to locate housing where they can be responsible for themselves.
The Housing First theory says that the first thing is to get the person housed, then address their other issues. The Housing First theory recognizes that for many houseless people it is the stress of living without housing that creates the mental health and addiction issues in the first place. And even if the mental health and addiction issues pre-date the homelessness, it’s still much easier to provide the help the person needs if they have a permanent address in a stress-free environment, surrounded by supportive services.
That made sense to me. It’s the theory that we followed with the Caroline Severance Manor. And this is the Housing First policy that Los Angeles has followed now for twenty years.
But that “twenty years” is the problem.
Housing First is the theory that we have followed for two decades. And during those twenty years, the number of houseless persons in Los Angeles has increased. While we build permanent supportive housing, the misery of people living on the street continues. The real suffering of real people continues.
If you’ve been banging your head against a wall for 20 years without success, maybe it isn’t the wall that’s the problem, maybe the problem is your head! Or in your head, meaning, maybe there’s something wrong with the theory, or at least the current theory alone isn’t enough.
The Los Angeles Times had an article on the situation just this week.
The LA Times reports that 2,200 unhoused people died in Los Angeles County in 2021. The number of deaths increased by more than half between 2019 and 2021. The number one cause of death, more than a third, were the result of drug overdoses, primarily methamphetamine and fentanyl. 14% of the deaths were caused by heart disease. 8% were caused by traffic injuries. The fourth largest cause of death among our houseless neighbors was homicide, an increase of 49% between 2020 and 2021.
Living on the streets is deadly.
The Housing First theory says, we need to get people into permanent supportive housing. But providing housing for people who are also mentally ill and drug-addicted and providing wrap around services to allow that person to be successful in housing, and the process of convincing or forcing neighbors to allow that kind of housing in their neighborhood is extremely expensive and extremely time-consuming.
Last year the median cost of building a single unit of low-income housing in Los Angeles County was $600,000. It’s often more expensive to build low-income housing than market rate housing because of the complications of pulling together multiple public funding sources, working within the regulations that come attached to those funding sources, and overcoming the objections of neighbors.
The Reverend Andy Bales, the leader of the Union Rescue Mission in Skid Row, stated clearly the problem of a too-firm commitment to an ideology at the expense of human suffering. This is from an editorial Rev. Bales wrote for the Whittier Daily News published April 30.
“Let me cite one example. Measure HHH, a city of Los Angeles tax, was implemented six years ago, to develop 10,000 units for, at the time, 50,000 people devastated by homelessness in Los Angeles County — a focus only on meeting 20% of the need. To date, 2,000 units have been built, 20% of the 20% needed. This endeavor barely made a dent in real need, while leaving 50,000 precious souls to struggle on Los Angeles’ streets.”
And he concludes:
“Every strategy for addressing homelessness, immediate, intermediate and long term with a focus on recovery and mental health assistance, must be welcomed back. Housing needs to be immediate, innovative, affordable and sustainable, without a huge tax burden levied on the public.”
A second article in this week’s Los Angeles Times, was a report on Karen Bass’ “Inside Safe” program which plans to use hotel rooms to provide interim housing while permanent supportive housing can be built. The Times describes two current projects on that model. One hotel downtown provides rooms at a cost of $4700 per month, that’s $2,000 a month more than the median rent for an apartment in Los Angeles. The other project provides rooms in Hollywood at $4550 per month but also includes social services from PATH which brings the total to over $7,000 per month per person housed.
Astronomically expensive, and not sustainable, and still not the permanent housing that all people need eventually. But surely temporary shelter is better than no shelter. And here’s the advantage of this approach: it addresses the real suffering that real people are really suffering with, now.
Housing availability and affordability is a huge, complicated problem. Add in mental health issues and addiction issues and the problem compounds. It’s almost impossible to comprehend all the facets of the problem, let alone imagine the solution. Certainly it’s beyond me. So, more power and best wishes to Andy Bales, and Karen Bass, and everyone else doing this work.
But here is what I do know, as a pastor: a piece of the problem that is a spiritual problem for all of us, whether we’re dealing with housing affordability or some other social issue, or working on personal growth. Here is a spiritual problem that we all face and which can lead us into this trap of putting our commitment to an ideology above the real goal of relieving suffering.
Way back in 1981, the year after I graduated from High School, a movie came out called My Dinner with Andre.
The movie was cat-nip to a kid like me, a conversation between creative intellectuals: the writer Wallace Shawn and the avant-garde theater director, Andre Gregory.
At one point in the movie, Andre Gregory says that what he’s trying to do in his new theater is wake people up to reality. He intends to shock people into awareness of what’s really going on around them.
And Wallace Shawn, while admiring the intention, points out the futility. He says something true about the human condition. He says that the human mind isn’t capable of experiencing the full complexity of reality. In the movie, Wallace Shawn says that even if we simply tried to experience the fulness of the contents of the bodega next door to the restaurant where the men are having their conversation, our minds would be completely blown. We couldn’t do it. Just the reality of one grocery store, let alone the universe. Reality is just too much.
So what we do, I’ve come to learn, is we invent various spiritual coping mechanisms that allow us to get what we need in order to function, without having our minds constantly blown. So we engage with just a narrow piece of reality. Or we engage with a wide surface but not the depth of reality. Or we rely on some authority, like a guru or a scripture, to interpret reality for us. And there are other schemes, too.
But one of the human schemes for dealing with the mind-blowing complexity of reality which is particularly attractive to intellectual types like Unitarian Universalists, is that we invent a theory to explain reality. We create a model of reality and then we substitute the model for reality itself. We relate to our theory and we turn away from the real.
It’s that old joke about Unitarian Universalists that we get to heaven, and everybody else is following the sign that says, “This way to God.” And we’re following the sign that says, “This way to a discussion about God.”
We love our theory. We perfect our theory. We judge others by how well or poorly they understand our theory and conform to it. We insist on the right language. We name drop the right sources. We reference the right principles. We’re so righteous. But meanwhile, we’re holding our theory between us and reality. And reality needs our attention.
What’s really happening in real life? What are the actual people we’re trying to serve actually saying and doing and feeling? The reality of human persons and human lives needs our attention, not our theories. And particularly as moral people who care about love, and peace, and justice, the reality of human suffering needs our attention.
I want us to be careful in our social justice work and in our personal growth work, too, whether the issue is housing, or any other human need, not to be so in love with our theories, that we miss the real lives of the real people who really deserve our love.