Gathering on "The Front Porch"
Donna Liette, CPPS • February 16, 2023
Gathering on “The Front Porch”
As a little girl growing up in North Star, OH, I remember sitting on our front porch
and waving to all the people who passed by on Rt.127! Being farmers, we would run to our porch swing on a rainy day and watch the rain watering our fields. On weekends and evenings, neighbors would gather on our porch to tell stories and have some ice cream and warm pie that Mother just baked.
Last week when the temperatures reached almost 50 degrees here in Chicago, I sat with one of our mothers on her porch as she told of her granddaughter’s murder and the pain of going to the court hearings month after month and rehearing the horror of the night. She cries, “Will the pain ever leave; will I ever find healing?”
I leave her porch thinking of the differences in our porch conversations.
Today on 51st St. in the Back of the Yards, PBMR has opened a “Front Porch”, a warm, open space for neighbors, staff, and participants to gather, share stories, connect, and be fed physically and spiritually, to heal pain and celebrate friendship.
After 5+ years of vacancy, many were waiting with great expectation
for those doors to open...Neighbors were stopping and asking, “Is this going to be a Church, an art center?” “Will you be selling liquor?”
Then on November the 8th, the doors did open and we celebrated the birthing of the radical transformation of a once neighborhood “Grocery/Liquor store“ into a no-steps, 2- room gathering place to lift spirits, not sell them!
The place hosts circles of all kinds
– Mother’s healing circles, Youth circles, RJ leadership circles, Support circles for men and women returning from prison, Staff circles, Drumming circles, Community Mass circle, Planning circles - all for the purpose of healing harm and building relationships.
While precious blood
continues to pour out on the streets we walk and the porches on which we stand, we invite the community into a safe place, a comfortable corner to share with others their suffering, their confusion, their hopes and know that they are not alone.
Everyday I’m at the “Front Porch” someone new stops by –someone in need of healing longing for a place of peace, a mother with 2 young children asking for prayer, a young father walking home from work...young, old, rich, poor, neighbors curious to see if this is a place for them. “Need some water, coffee, chips, some cookies, a hug? Come inside. You are welcome here!”
For those who saw the chaos and smelled the stench when the doors first opened in late July, the transformation has been amazing.
Rats had their way, and quickly learned that they had lost their home! Neighbors, funders, board members, attorneys, friends of PBMR have been welcomed into this new creation and they stand with mouths open in amazement- sometime even to the point of tears.
Mothers were especially excited as they could not believe there was such a place in their community – a place to find peace, to experience a “Spa Love Day”, a place where pain and disappointments can be shared, where reconciliation can happen
among women/men/youth; a place to drum out frustrations and clear one’s brain!
Summer will offer all kinds of activities and “Front Porch” experiences as we set up easels outside and the community comes together to paint and chat, to barbecue and know they are safe
to come off their porches and get to know their neighbors and the community in a new way!
PBMR continues to hear the voices of the community and respond
as best we can to that call – it is the call of our spirituality – to build a community where all are welcome, all are seen as IN the circle, where all offered radical hospitality, hope and healing, where those who feel “far off” will be brought on to “the Front Porch” (close) through the Blood of Christ.
We invite all of you to come, especially this summer, sit on "The Front Porch” to see and engage in our building a community of LOVE!!
Donna Liette, CPPS
In an age marked by polarization, suspicion, and division, the greatest need in our world is not simply better arguments but deeper relationships.
“ A nation becomes stronger, not weaker, when it is willing to examine itself honestly. ”
“The first message of Jesus is that of compassion. Mission will follow.”
“We’re all doing the same work. We all have the same issues, but we all have our own approaches to the work, right? But turns out, it's one fight. This is one united front.”
“If we truly want safer communities and a more just society, then we must be willing to imagine and invest in a better way for everyone.”
“We learn from those who continue to love, even when they have been betrayed.”
"We all know love when we see it. All the rest are labels."
Advent always begins in darkness. It tells the truth about the world as it is— a world where violence wounds lives and communities, where incarceration separates families, and where fear too often speaks louder than hope. And yet, Advent also insists that the story does not end in darkness. For those who live under the weight of isolation— for survivors of violence, for their families, for communities whose resources are stretched thin— the promise of Advent is not a naïve denial of pain. It is a quiet, steady flame that refuses to go out. This season reminds us that God does not wait for the world to be tidy or whole before drawing near. God comes into the places where the night is longest— into prison cells and courtrooms, into hospital waiting rooms, into homes where grief has taken up residence— and whispers, “I am here.” Advent hope is not passive. It is the hope that allows us to take the next step, to believe that healing is possible, to accompany one another with tenderness and courage. It is the hope that teaches us to look for light before we can see it fully. As we move through this season, may we honor the truth of the darkness without being claimed by it. May we carry hope not as a fragile wish, but as a reason to continue— a reason to keep showing up, to keep loving, to keep believing that God’s dawn is already on its way. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Amen.
Reimagining Justice in Illinois: A Restorative Justice Blueprint for Illinois’ Criminal Legal System
The following text is an excerpt from an article of the same title, first published on the RJHubs website by Karlyn Boens. Joe’s story brought these themes to life on a human scale. “I never had a chance to be a kid,” he shared. Growing up in constant survival mode, childhood was something he had to skip to stay alive. At PBMR, he experienced something different: “I could let my hair down. I discovered I was good at talking to people.” What Joe encountered was radical hospitality and accompaniment—restorative practices that rarely appear in legislation or policy yet quietly transform lives every day. Where systems had seen risk, PBMR saw relationship. Where institutions had offered surveillance, PBMR offered presence and belonging. His story illustrated what it looks like when the human rights lens is made concrete: a space where connection, dignity, and possibility are not conditional, but assumed. This conversation captures what restorative justice demands of us in Illinois. It is not about launching more programs or pilots. It is about: A paradigm shift in how we understand safety A culture shift in how institutions wield power A system shift in how decisions are made, data is collected, and accountability is defined Imagine an Illinois where: Human rights guide decision-making Restorative justice is the standard, not the exception Communities lead the healing Data includes lived experience, not just charges and convictions Redemption is not selective Adults are not excluded from restoration And every child has the chance to just be a child This panel did not hand us easy answers. Instead, it offered an invitation—a call to build the ecosystem our communities have been waiting for, one relationship, one policy, one practice at a time.
I remember that as a kid, I struggled with the notion of Original Sin. I am not sure if it was the way it was taught or my simple mind, but I thought it unfair to slap a sin on a newborn child. Today, I understand it not as a personal fault or sin, but that a child is born into a wounded world. How many times have we said that our youth today have a lot more to deal than we did? Our society is wounded; it is ill, and, dare I say, sinful. That is not a Democrat or Republican thing; not right or left’ it is all us contributing to a world in which too many are suffering. The other day, at the Cook County Juvenile Temporary Detention Center, I was talking with a young man of only 15 years old who told me he had been in over 20 different group homes and foster homes. Another young man who comes to the PBMR Center almost daily says he had been in 14 different schools before his high school years. When asked why, he responded that his mother was unable to keep up with all the bills. “We kept being put out with nowhere to go.” So often, the focus is on the individual faults or failings: a mother unable to care properly for her children, single parent families, and so on, but we overlook the societal sins that wreak havoc on families and communities; the fact that so many have so much, and others struggle to make do from day to day. Pope Leo XIV has recently put out an Apostolic Exhortation ─ a Pope’s call to the faithful for virtue ─ entitled Dilexi Te , or “ I have loved you. ” It is a continuation of the Encyclical ─ a stronger call from the Pope to all bishops of the Church ─ that Pope Francis wrote, Dilexit Nos , or “ He loved us. ” In this, Pope Leo’s first exhortation, he states that the “love of the Lord, then, is one with the love of the poor.” Explaining his choice of that name, Pope Francis related how, after his election, a Cardinal friend of his embraced him, kissed him, and told him, “Do not forget the poor.” He obviously took that to heart in choosing the name Francis after St. Francis of Assisi. Our love for one another brings us closer to a God who is love. Pope Leo says, “the poor are not just people to be helped, but the sacramental presence of the Lord.” For my entire priesthood, I have worked on the South Side of Chicago, the jails, the Detention Center, and with those who suffer violence. I can say that of all education, formation and teaching, nothing has brought me closer to the love of God than those who are suffering incarceration and poverty. Today, we hear of the plight of those who have come to this country seeking a better life. We can argue about policy; we can argue about secure borders; but we cannot deny that the gospel and all of scripture compels us to love the stranger among us. The call of the Church has been to accompany the migrant. My own congregation came to the US accompanying the German immigrants who came to this country in search of a better life. Fr. Greg Boyle, Jesuit priest, shares in his book, “ Cherished Belonging, ” that there are two parades the day Jesus enters Jerusalem. There is Pilate and his show of military power and force, heading to Jerusalem from the west. Then, there’s Jesus, on a small donkey humbly entering the city from the east. Jesus’ trek and mission displays a way of life whose hallmarks are inclusion, nonviolence, unconditional loving, kindness, and compassionate acceptance. The parade of warhorses announces the threat of violent force, coercion, and the oppression of the poor. The “triumphant” entrance of Jesus is not an indictment, but an invitation. Village transcending tribe. Jesus doesn’t draw lines, He erases them. (Boyle, p. 87-88) Martin Luther King’s last book was called “ Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? ” We find our way out of chaos and its dispiriting tribalism by standing against forgetting that we belong to one another. (Boyle, p. 89) There is an Irish saying: “It is in the shelter of each other that people live.” As Christians ─ as believers ─ we are called to be shelter for one another. We are called to believe that no one is born evil; that all are created in the image of the One who is love. Pope Leo is calling us to be mindful of the migrant; to remember our own origin as a church and the gospel mandate to love our sisters and brothers – no exception. In his writing, Pope Leo says very clearly, “The Church has always recognized in migrants a living presence of the Lord who, on the day of judgement, will say to those on his right, ‘I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.’ (Mt 25:35) We should not forget who we are and in whose shelter we live.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Contact: Davon Clark, Communications Manager Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation dclark@pbmr.org At Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation (PBMR), we are rooted in the belief that every person is created in the image of God and deserving of dignity, safety, and belonging . In this moment of heightened fear and uncertainty following the deployment of federal agents and National Guard troops in our city, we reaffirm our steadfast commitment toward those values. Our dignity and sense of safety should never be determined by our legal status . We know from experience that true safety does not come from the sword, but from the relationship we forge with one another. Our communities long for peace, but a peace that is built through trust, opportunity, and a sense of belonging . The increased militarization in our neighborhoods risks deepening fear and trauma among families already struggling to heal from generations of violence, poverty, and marginalization. PBMR stands in solidarity with all who seek justice and peace through nonviolence, dialogue, and accompaniment . We will continue to open our doors to those in need and walk alongside our neighbors, especially those most marginalized. We call upon all leaders to remember the sacred dignity of every person, to act with compassion and restraint, and to prioritize approaches that restore rather than divide. Together, we can choose a path rooted not in fear, but in unity and the wellbeing of every person . ##
I used to joke that when Sr. Donna retired, she’d have one final Mother’s Circle, in which she'd move from mother to mother, laying hands and pronouncing, “healed.” And it would be so. My time as a Precious Blood Volunteer at PBMR had ended before that bittersweet day came, so I guess I can only presume that that’s not what happened at that last gathering. But one of the things that PBMR taught me was that this vision of a quick fix does a disservice to the beauty and profundity of the healing journey. A conversation with Catherine, a mother in PBMR’s Family Forward program, played a key role in shaping that understanding. I interviewed Catherine as a part of producing the first season of PBMR’s podcast, Together We Heal , which gave me the opportunity to interview multiple mothers involved in Family Forward. We'd originally met at PBMR’s Spare Some Love Bowl-a-Thon. We were on the same team, but amid the strobe lights and ultraviolet glow of the alley, the conversation and clamor of the surrounding lanes, and the constant rotation of turns as we played, we hadn’t talked much. We met to record in PBMR’s music studio: a cozy space with blankets on the ceiling that help prevent echoes. I had DIY-ed a podcast set-up, placing two microphones on the small circular table that was in the room and placing foam panels between them for sound quality (and, if I’m being honest, aesthetics). When we sat down, I started recording, welcomed Catherine to the show, and asked how she became involved with Family Forward. This introductory question, meant to ease us into the conversation, plunged us into heavier topics when Catherine responded by explaining that her son had been shot (thankfully, he survived). That story, though, was paired with a recounting of the accompaniment she received from PBMR, and the themes of love and community continued throughout the interview. You can listen to our conversation here .
