Wednesday, October 15, 2014

the72: Sarah Ruszkowski - Walking With

Funny how it takes me sitting on a porch in Door County, WI, overlooking the lake with my journal to be able to clearly reflect on what my ministry is.

The ministry of L’Arche is to provide homes for adults with and without disabilities, seeking to reveal and share each person’s unique gifts as a child of God. It is a wonderful place to be.

But what is my ministry as the Home Life Leader of L’Arche’s Ontario House? Interestingly (since I like to think I think about this all the time), it has taken me many drafts and versions of this post to construct an actual answer to this question. My ministry is to walk with my housemates. 

“Accompany” is the word that we use in L’Arche. It is my ministry to accompany people.

Shared life in L’Arche looks a little like this: You need new shoes, so we go to DSW and walk up and down the aisles, trying on as many pairs of black shoes without laces as possible. We hold hands as we get flu shots at CVS, and I try to bribe you to not be scared with promises of ice cream. I drink coffee as you drink tea. We pray together each night for our brothers. We stop at Target to buy notebooks and markers for our parish’s school supplies drive. We argue, laugh, and talk over each other at the dinner table. We sit together on the couch and watch Gilmore Girls. We sing the Salve Regina together to conclude compline. I listen as you explain why you are afraid to welcome the new guy. We sing Taylor Swift on the way to Costco, and you tell me about your family. I cry with you as your heart breaks.

Here is the thing. All of these things have happened. And half of these moments are with the core people I live with (the language we use for adults with intellectual and physical disabilities) and half of these are with the assistants that I live with (the language we use for those who work in L’Arche, both those who live in the house and those who live elsewhere). The beauty of my ministry is that there is often very little distinction between the two. Our community leader always says, “The fruit of our labor is relationship. Other communities of faith bake bread or farm the land. We build relationships.” My ministry in its purest form is to love and be loved by people.

My ministry as the Home Life Leader of Ontario House has two main parts. I accompany the core people, and I accompany the assistants. Accompaniment of core people means direct care and the work necessary to run a licensed group home. As an assistant, you seek to become friends with people who communicate differently and learn how to advocate with them for what they need. Part of my role is to lead us in prayer that is accessible and utilize the gifts that people bring to the table.

The desire to work with people with disabilities is how I came to L’Arche. By my junior year at Notre Dame, I began to feel called to this field. Through a class, I discovered L’Arche, a place where, quite simply, people love people. Reading about this life built around family and knowing each person as a beloved child of God, strengths and brokenness together, called to me. We take care of each other not because you have disabilities and I don’t, but because we are people. L’Arche seeks to live the Beatitudes—to create life where the poor in spirit and the meek shape us, teach us, and form us. Truly, the majority of my formation in L’Arche comes from the core people. And through this formation, my own poorness of spirit and purity of heart is called forth and fostered.

This life would not be possible without passion for who and what we are. No one teaches me that better than William*, who is more passionate than anyone I know. He loves so expressively—telling me I have the eyes of a child (a sincere compliment from this 73-year-old Cuban) and the prettiest feet in community (I remain unsure about that one). He is furious in the face of injustice and seeks to help each and every homeless person he encounters (which occurs not infrequently in DC). He yells when he is mad and belly laughs when he is happy. He prays constantly. I’m excited? Let’s pray about it. I’m crying? Let’s pray about it. As we walk together, William teaches me to live a passionate, expressive, and forgiving life. This formation is some of the most valuable that I have received here.

And Maria*? Maria teaches me, and every single person in our home, what it means to live as a beloved child of God. She has grace and poise and a constant connection to God. She is intentional with her words (a good lesson for me, who most often says exactly what I am thinking and feeling). She is so very aware of the people around her, and when they need an all-embracing hug, a hand to hold or a joke to be made. I don’t mean to sound as if I am putting her on a pedestal (okay, who am I kidding? She is one of the best people I know), but I do believe that because Maria is so pure of heart, she can easily know and hold the hearts of those around her. This awareness and gentle love has formed how I seek to enter into relationship with the other members of my home.

I could go on and on. Suffice it to say that the majority of my formation in L’Arche and the formation of the other assistants in my home comes from the core people.

This formation also comes from the traditions and structures that support us at L’Arche. We celebrate everything: birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day, 4th of July, goodbyes, you name it. We celebrate people’s birthdays by sharing with them what we know their gifts to be. Take a moment and imagine being in a room with at least 20 people, all waiting to tell you what they love about you. It is beautiful. (PS: Please do this next time you celebrate someone you love—name it. Tell them why.)

For my community members for whom words are not the way they best articulate their thoughts and feelings, we utilize all sorts of mediums for people to share what they know to be true about your giftedness. Our ministry is to reveal and rejoice in people’s belovedness. The traditions, especially those surrounding celebrations, of our 50-year-old community remind me how to do this at least once a week. Yes. We have parties at least once a week.

Similarly, when you are welcomed into the most intimate places of someone’s life--when you are helping them step into the tub, or pick out which shirt to wear as they sit naked on the bed because they can’t get to the closet themselves—the “revelation as God’s beloved” goes both ways.

I commit to Miguel every day. I am going to try my hardest to show you that. I promise to listen in between your purrs to hear what you are saying without words. I promise to try to make your coffee to your liking, even though you always want more sugar than I think is good for you. I promise to sit and scratch your back when you are sure a mosquito got you. I promise to do that because I love you and you are a beloved child of God.

In return, Miguel trusts me. What a beautiful gift it is to be trusted. He says to me, in not so many words (he speaks only Spanish and limitedly), I trust you to help me in the shower and to sit with me when I am in the hospital again and to order for me at Starbucks. I trust you, because you, Sarah, are a beloved daughter of God. In these moments of welcome into another’s vulnerability, my own belovedness is revealed.

The other part of my ministry is walking with the assistants who work in my house as well (some live in, others do not). Officially, it is my job to listen to where you are in your journey in relationship with each other and God. We work through the joys and challenges of communal life. I try to call you to grow in your role in community, and to challenge you to love yourself and those around you more completely. I get to remind people of how loved they are. Officially, there are many details to coordinate and communications to facilitate. Unofficially, you climb into my bed after a bad day or pound on my door for outfit approval as you get ready for that date. We chat over the newspaper about your dad’s health, and I follow up after your one-word check-in is “heavy."

Living together and working together and being in community together and being friends (or not) with each other can be very complicated. Accompaniment of the assistants in my home involves a lot of layers. Sometimes it means holding on to each other for dear life as we face another very serious health complication for a core person we love so much. Or it is the desperate plea for insight as we attempt to support someone through months of heightened anxiety. Sometimes it is helping you to find a church that fits who you are. And occasionally, it is realizing that L’Arche is not the right place for you and figuring out what that means.

It is my job, my ministry as the Home Life Leader of Ontario House, to walk with you through your life. And in return? I am walked with. I am trusted and I am held.

I have spent a lot of time lately reflecting on Thomas Merton’s description of everyone walking around shining like the sun. He goes on to say, “It was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God’s eyes. If only they could all see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time.”

This is how I understand my ministry. But I am particularly blessed because that is the official statement of identity for L’Arche. “We are people, with and without developmental disabilities, sharing life in communities belonging to an International Federation. Mutual relationships and trust in God are at the heart of our journey together. We celebrate the unique value of every person and recognize our need of one another.”

That is my job description. Walk with people, love and be loved by them, and journey closer to God. Most of the time in L’Arche, this is messy, because we as people tend to be rather messy. But as our founder Jean Vanier explains, “We are simply human beings, enfolded in weakness and in hope, called together to change our world, one heart at a time.”

(*Author's Note: Names changed*)

Sarah Ruszkowski is the Home Life Leader of the L'Arche Greater Washington DC community, which she has belonged to for over three years. Sarah graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 2011 with a BA in Psychology and Theology, including a thesis on the relationship between the Church and people with disabilities. A native of Villa Park, IL, Sarah now lives in Washington DC. Sarah can be contacted at srusz17@gmail.com.

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