Recognizing the inherent dignity of each person, The Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation (PBMR) stands with all people advocating for the rights of immigrants and asylum seekers. We believe in the humanity and goodness of all people and continue to work to build a greater understanding and stronger relationships between people and the community. I recall the words of Cardinal Blasé Cupich who reminds us that many of, if not most of, the residents of Chicago were once immigrants. He writes, “We are proud of our legacy of immigration that continues in our day to renew the city we love. This is a moment to be honest about who we are. There is not a person in Chicago, save the Indigenous people, who has not benefited from this legacy.” We call on all those in positions of power and all of us to act with compassion and recognize humanity in each other. We ask policy makers and government officials to remember their call to protect the most vulnerable in our community including immigrants and their families. We pray for all those who are scared, lonely, and afraid that they find comfort and hope. Together let us work toward a more beloved community. Together let us take a step closer to the Kingdom of God, where all are welcome. Fr. David Kelly, C.PP.S. Executive Director Further Reading: Resources for Migrant Families in Chicago Statements from Cardinal Blasé Cupich, Archdiocese of Chicago Statement of Solidarity from United States Conference of Catholic Bishops

Surely, we can all agree that we live in a divided nation and, unfortunately, an often times divided Church. No matter what side of the fence you are on, you can feel the stress and strain of a world at odds – divided. Truthfully, I have stopped watching much national news because there seems to be a market for bickering and name calling. We have always had diƯering opinions and beliefs, but it seems the language, which so often leads to action, has become more violent. I write these words on the day in which we celebrate the legacy and teachings of Martin Luther King Jr. King didn’t just teach a strategy of peacemaking and nonviolence, his life demonstrated the power of, and a commitment to, the principle of nonviolence – a spirituality of peacemaking . His life reflected the African principle of “ubuntu” – I am what I am because of who we all are.” I am reading Fr. Greg Boyle’s new book, Cherished Belonging, the Healing Power of Love in Divided Times. In it he says that there are two principles that undergird his work: 1) Everybody is unshakably good (no exceptions) and 2) We belong to each other (no exceptions. He says that these two principles help us to roll up our sleeves and get things done. Ii I have had the privilege of working in both the Cook County Juvenile Detention Center and jail here in Chicago for well over 40 years. In that time, I have sat with many individuals who have committed horrible acts of violence. I have also regularly sat with families and persons who have experienced great harm, horrible acts of violence against them. Many never recover from the trauma. When I go to court, I have a front row seat of a system that embraces an adversarial stance and sees the world as black and white: good - bad, right - wrong, winner - looser. And when all is said and done and the courts have had their say, those impacted are left find their own way through the pain and trauma . You can see it as they leave the courtroom. I have also had the privilege of being in spaces where those harmed sit with those who did the harm – from simple property cases to homicide. I have seen what can happen when there is an emphasis on relationship and wholeness verses punishment and isolation. When we see one another as God sees us – son/daughter, sister/brother, we begin to make our way toward healing and understanding. Fr. Greg Boyle says, “Surely we can’t we hold something as horrible and still not make monsters out of anyone.” “Demonizing”, he says, “keeps us from solutions”.iii It seems that during these times, both in our nation and in our world, we need to reflect upon the notion that we belong to one another. That a harm to one is a harm to all of us. We need to stop demonizing one another and come up with solutions. Last night I was in the Juvenile Detention Center and, as I often do, asked a young man what community he came from? He hesitated, so I asked again thinking he didn’t hear me. Again, he hesitated and then shared with me that he was homeless and so bounced from one place to another, house to house whoever would allow him to sleep on a couch or on the floor – until, of course, they grew tired of him. The answer to my question was that he came from no community. This is what happens when we are so busy placing blame and demonizing one another. This can only happen when fail to each person as unshakably good; it can only happen when we fail to believe that we belong to one another. We enter the Jubilee Year of “Pilgrims of Hope”. As a people, as community, as a congregation, let it be more than a slogan. Let it be our commitment. No exceptions.

New Beginnings: Eric's Story

"Our Precious Blood spirituality call and challenges us to be instruments of healing in our fractured world."

People who are not steeped in restorative justice – who have only a cursory understanding of the philosophy – believe that restorative justice is short on accountability. Even some of the staff of PBMR, which I like to think of as a restorative justice organization, struggle with accountability. Kazu Haga, in his book, Healing Resistance, said that in holding someone accountable, we need to put the emphasis on holding. Meaning that we should put the emphasis on relationship. What is needed and what does the one who has caused harm need to do to put the “us” back into right relationship? Here's the thing about accountability, the starting place has to be that the people are good – that we are each of us created in the image of God. The harm done is a deviation from that goodness that we possess. Now we must work to repair the harm. “ Forgiveness and compassion are always linked : how we hold people accountable for wrongdoing and yet at the same time remain in touch with their humanity enough to believe in their capacity to be transformed.” (Bell Hooks) Recently, two of our staff, Joe Montgomery and Fred Weatherspoon, accompanied a group sponsored by Juvenile Justice Initiative (JJI) to Hamburg, Germany. The trip’s intention was to learn about and tour juvenile prisons in Germany. The gourp consisted of members of JJI, state of Illinois representatives, and Fred and Joe—both who are system impacted from their youth. Their perspective is powerful and telling as they share their reactions to Germany’s juvenile justice system over and against their own experience in the U.S. I sat down with Joe and ask him about his experience. I encourage you to spend some time with his responses. Kelly: Besides being in a different country, what really stood out to you about the trip? Joe: The biggest thing is that they trust their kids . They’re put in a place, a detention center, where they don’t have to fend for themselves – survive on their own. In Germany, the kids have what they need. That’s the thing, from day one, the staff are working to get the kids what they need to get back home in good way. Education is big. You don’t have to be an A grade to go to school – everybody goes to school. Here, in our country, you have to be on a cetrain level to get into school. And even then, there are so few spots for education, that it may take years to get into school or a program. [If at all] It’s crazy to me how they value education. Even the correctional officers (CO’s) have an education. They have to have a college degree and they take continuing education classes. But the biggest thing was that they treat those kids with dignity . They work to ensure that they succede. Here, we expect failure from our kids and so we don’t put anything in to preparing people to come home. Kelly: You had some state officials with you, do you hope they took from the trip? Joe: I hope they learned from what they saw, and make changes —like the requirements for someone to go to school. Here in our correctional facilities, we don’t do anything to help people make the changes they need to go home successfully. I think it is an attitude, too. To see the kids as trustworthy. I was shocked to see that in Germany, they could cook with pots and pans on a stove. They had utensils – real utensils! They trusted them. Their thinking is that we trust that you will make the right choice. Kelly: What else really sticks out for you? Joe: In Germany the district attorney doesn’t look to get the harshest penalty for you. They aren’t trying to send you to prison. That’s unbelievable! I couldn’t imagine someone here doing that for one of ours. Another thing: in Germany the people who make the laws are one the same page as those who enforce the laws. What I mean is that the laws that are made come from what is happening on the ground. When we heard the lawmakers, that’s what we saw in the detention center and on the streets and how the police worked. Here in the US, the law might say one thing, but that is not our experience in the community. Like you have to have probable cause to search someone’s car. But the reality is that police stop people all the time and just search the car hoping they find something. This exerpt is just a short snap shot of the reflections and wisdom from Joe and Fred’s time in Germany. Stay tuned for more from them, as we continue to explore the possibilities and potential of when we hold one another accountable by holding each person as sacred, precious, and worthy of restoration and healing.

Fr. Kelly once wrote: “We must create communities of hope where we recognize that our lives are intertwined with one other and that what affects one, affects us all. This ethos— the interconnectedness of all —is at the heart of our spirituality that calls us to be ambassadors of Reconciliation.” As you know our Front Porch Community Healing Center opened this past November, and it has brought many curious neighbors inside to see how the old community grocery/liquor store has been transformed. The first few months were wonderful welcoming new friends inside, but something was missing . The space is beautiful, but those white cinder block walls were stark and colorless! So we called on our artist instructor, Alberto Alaniz, and a youth artist, Kathleen, the “granddaughter” of Father Kelly and creative energies emerged! A mural team of youth and staff gathered sharing ideas and sketches and began designing the layout. Alberto reflects on the initial brainstorming process, “ Love, Hospitality, Hope, Healing, and a strong sense of Community were important expressions of what the team felt PBMR stood for in this community and what our mural should give voice and challenge to in these dire times.”

It is just as important as ever to attend to the little graces by which the dignity of our lives is maintained and sustained. -Howard Thurman I came back from a funeral I presided over for a friend’s mother, and all I could share was paraphrasing that you needed to have been there. Undoubtedly, you’ve heard someone say you had to be there! I call it an awakening , a deeper realization that unexpectedly catches me in a holy moment; the little graces by which the dignity of our lives is maintained and sustained to borrow a phrase from Howard Thurman. And too often my words fail to convey the depth or excitement of that little grace. There are those who can come close with a picture, a song, or a poem; but I believe nothing really beats being there. Fernando, our neighbor across the street, called me over the other day to show me two bullet shells lying in the alley. He poured out a heartfelt lament of concerns for the safety of our community and the misfortune of all the violence in our society today. Then, as he kissed the crucifix hanging around his neck, it was as if his faith kicked in and he began speaking words of hope and gratitude mentioning improvements and changes for the better he’s seen happening over the years. He blesses God for this, and attributes a lot of it to the presence and work of PBMR. His words graced my heart with a deep realization of a new relationship with the man who first came to us to work off some court ordered community service hours for a traffic violation. My words can’t describe the awakening of that little graced moment. Attending the funeral that I mentioned above were men and women whom I had not been in touch with over the past 15 or more years. Back then they were youth in our neighborhood, in our programs at PBMR, in the juvenile detention center, in courtrooms – now productive adults in their 30’s. They wanted to assure me how much they appreciated my role in their survival by not allowing the evil around them to enter into them; and they made it through. I found myself touched with little graces, as stories were told how the welcome, accompaniment and safety at PBMR had seen them through. And I knew it had to be through the Blood of Christ they were brought near. And we were all brought together by the woman who had brought us together in the first place years before. Painfully accepting her passing, we came to celebrate in many stories the legacy of truth-telling in the life Precious Renee Talley shared with us. She had been a Christmas present to her loving parents born on December 26th in 1956. Maybe that’s why they named her Precious. And yet to all who came to know her, she truly was precious with little energy for futility. With many mourners I too thank God for the gift of Precious in my life. Her down-to-earth approach brought her much respect. For Precious life was not only a gift but also an obligation. Her obituary read she could be as sweet as cotton candy but at the same time tough as nails. The home-going had many witnessing that she knew Christ who knew suffering . She lived her life familiar with sorrow, pain and woe. Hers was a dignity no one could take from her even as aging would bend her down low enough to lean comfortably on her walker, but spiritually standing tall ; a woman whose education was limited but not her wisdom. And her truthful unfiltered, blunt, and holding-nothing-back ways to speak truth were invitations for her hearers to be about truthful ways in their living. Awakenings, these little graces, play a significant role for me in living Precious Blood Spirituality in our ministry at PMBR. Caught up in the lives of our neighbors, our youth, our mothers and all our ministry I am surrounded with evidence of the power of redemptive suffering through the blood-stained cross of Christ present in our day. And I’m sure in your life as well, in our Precious Blood family, there’s no lack of little graces by which the dignity of our lives is maintained and sustained as we study the book of the cross. I am so glad that somewhere in my life, there must have been a moment when I said, “Here I am, send me” . My life has been filled with countless little graces during 20+ years at PBMR, and all I can say is you had to be there.

There is an African proverb that says, “when a child is rejected by the village, he will burn the village down just to feel the warmth .” I was asked to give a talk to the Center of Social Concerns at Notre Dame about the work of PBMR and Restorative Justice. They asked, too, if I would talk to a Restorative Justice class the following day, so I decided to make a trip out of it and bring along a couple young people. I can tell stories, but the real impact is to hear first-hand from those who live it each day. We got an early start so we could walk around campus. Of course, the Notre Dame stadium and “touch-down” Jesus was what they wanted to see. It was a beautiful day and the energy was high as the students moved quickly on foot and on the scooters. As we walked across campus, I suggested we take a peek inside the Basilica, which is a beautiful church. As we entered, they were taken aback by the number of students in church praying – no doubt making a quick visit before or after class. “They just come in here a sit?” one asked me. I told them that often people just need a quiet and safe place to be for a while. That they understood, but it is rare in their lives. One of them asked about the Stations of the Cross that lined the walls of the basilica and, so, I took the opportunity to talk about story of Jesus’ passion. As I pointed out each station, I got a nod of approval from an older gentleman in the pew. As we got to the building where we would talk, I could sense that both were nervous. I assured them that they would do fine and that they just needed to be themselves. I spoke for a while and then introduced them to the group. Their nerves gave way as they began to tell their story. They were honest and spoke from their heart. They shared what it was like being an African American “kid” growing up on the south side of Chicago. Of course, they spoke of the violence and their experience of being locked up, but they also talked about PBMR and all the good that was happening in their neighborhood. “Some people”, they said, “think we are all just criminals - bad people, but there is a lot of good in the neighborhood, too.” While they weren’t polished speakers, their story was theirs and they were authentic. As we closed the night, the students continued to engage with them – asking questions and thanking them for coming the campus. I could see both beaming with pride as they were the center of attention. On the ride home I asked them how they felt it went? They both said in so many words that it made them feel good – like they were somebody , instead of a nobody. It was one time when they weren’t defined by someone else. At the very heart of our work, is breaking down walls of judgement so that we can discover the dignity in one another. In the case of the two youth that accompanied me, they need people and society to see them, not judge them, and embrace them for who they really are. How many times have they been called a menace to society? Told that they are the problem? As we talked more, I think they were slowly beginning to believe that they were worthy of being respected and loved. A couple of days later, I went to court with another young man who I have known for most of his life. He was now 30 years old. He had endured a great deal…having had his bumps and bruises along the way. I got one of those early morning calls that he had been arrested . I worked to get him out of jail, and now accompanied him to court. As he stood before the judge, the state’s attorney called him a violent felon…even though he had not yet been convicted. There he was with his white dress shirt and black slacks and hair neatly tied back – another black man with dreads labeled as a felon. As I sat there, I wanted to cry out “you don’t even know him!” They knew nothing of all that he had overcome - obstacle after obstacle. They didn’t know that he's in a strenuous program to become a lineman for the power company and just the day before sent me a picture of him on a pole with his white helmet…. a sign that he had graduated to the next level. They didn’t know that he had three beautiful children and a beautiful wife. They didn’t know that he was one of the most respectful young people I know. As I saw him stand there for all to see, dressed as he thought they wanted him to dress, I knew he felt as though he was seen as violent felon – guilty because if his blackness. I felt sick; I felt anger, I felt powerless. But I also felt the love for a young man who deserved to be loved. I believe that our spirituality is to stand there at the foot of the cross , with all our powerlessness, but, also, with all our love and devotion. There is a story of older woman who had a deep devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe. A visitor to her home asked her why she had such a deep devotion to Our Lady. The older woman responded in her language, “porque se quedo'” – because she stayed.

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