Assault with a Dairy Weapon
On Sunday I experienced one of the top three weirdest moments I’ve had since becoming a pastor.
I talked a little about it online earlier this week, and got a decent number of “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry you had to go through that” messages. I appreciate the concern, but I genuinely thought it was hilarious.
I still think it’s hilarious.
And the story had a good ending.
But as I’ve reflected on it over the last few days, I’ve started to wonder about my motives for trying to help people - this past week as well as hundreds of other times over the years.
Someone came into our church lobby on Sunday morning, yelling at everyone she could see. I (thankfully) wasn’t doing anything in our service, so I hung out with her in the lobby. And by “hung out,” I mean I listened to some stories, tried to make sure that I was the only person she yelled at/lashed out at, and repeatedly escorted her outside (more on that later).
It was fine. She got some food and coffee from our lobby and was appreciative. After a while, she walked off.
About an hour after getting home, I got a call that our church fence was on fire.
She started the fire.
The fire department came quickly and put it out. Everything was fine, aside from a small, very charred section of the fence.
She continued to sit in the parking lot and yell at any passersby, refusing to leave.
I called non-emergency. While talking with them, she charged at me. The non-emergency person told me to turn tail and run away. I’ve got long legs and a long stride, though, so I just kept backing up. Was that dumb? I don’t know.
She chased me all over our parking lot.
While pursuing me, the lady reached in her pocket. Immediately I thought, “gun or knife?”
I was once chased around our church property by a guy with a baseball bat. I’m not entirely unfamiliar with people threatening me with weapons.
A bat doesn’t fit in a pocket, but a gun or knife would.
I was confident I could outrun her, so if it was a knife I was fine.
If it was a gun I was screwed.
I told the non-emergency person as she reached in her pocket, and the non-emergency person again told me to “turn around and run the hell away.”1
You know that feeling when you think you might die, and your mind thinks all of the thoughts at the same time?
Will it be quick or slow?
Can I juke to the side after the trigger pull but before the bullet hits me?
It’s going to be a nightmare for people to clean out my office.
Have I gotten my affairs in order?
How will my family deal with my death?
Etc, etc, etc…
She pulls her hand out of her pocket.
Not a knife.
Not a gun.
It’s a cup of yogurt.
Yogurt.
Yogurt.
She carried a cup of yogurt in her pocket, and in her anger, threw it at me.
I laughed.
She got mad that I laughed. “What are you laughing at?”
But, like, it was involuntary. I thought I might be attacked with a deadly weapon, and she threw a cup of yogurt at me.
That’s objectively funny.
It’s been five days, and I still laugh whenever I think about it.
I didn’t die that afternoon, but I did have to put some barely-worn clothes in the laundry.
The story has an extremely positive ending. The police didn’t arrest the lady. They put in for a mental health check, so she’d get the help she needed from mental health professionals instead of being thrown in jail.2
The yogurt thing is genuinely funny.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole situation this week, though - how I react when I connect with people with mental disabilities, folks who are obviously high but not necessarily dangerous, or houseless people generally.
Every once in a while, someone introduces me to a friend and says, “This guy and his church do a lot to help the homeless.”
And, yeah, we have done some cool things. You can read about some of it here.
Everyone: “David, stop talking about your book.”
Me:
It feels good when people say stuff like that.
Kudos feel nice.
In reality though, if I’m being honest, I often don’t want to help the most vulnerable folks in our community.
Okay, it’s not as bad as I just made it sound.
What I mean is, when someone who’s clearly high or having a challenging moment with their mental illness, I often try and end the interaction as quickly as possible.
I once yelled at a houseless dude in the alley behind our church because we had a staff meeting, and I wanted him gone.
When I get a call on the church phone from somebody who’s looking for rent help, I can sometimes be…less than helpful, and I try to end the conversation as quickly as possible.
And this past Sunday, I kept escorting this woman out of the church building.
Not because she was acting dangerously.
Nope, it was just because she was loud.
I wanted her out so that people in the lobby and sanctuary wouldn’t be disrupted or uncomfortable.
Often when I lament about how hard it often is for me to feel and show compassion toward houseless people, especially on Sunday mornings, they’ll say something along the lines of “You have people to care for, and need to make sure they’re safe.”
Completely true.
But if my people are safe, and just uncomfortable? Am I really trying to care for my people if I shoo somebody away?
Or am I just trying to get rid of a disruption?
Sometimes I wonder if keeping people happy and comfortable is more important to me than making sure care and hope are given to the people that need it the most.
I hope that’s not true.
But maybe?
I had AI draw “Yogurt Attack,” and look at this!
It’s incredible.
Someone with animation skills, please make Yogurt Attack into a movie immediately.
Avril Lavigne - Smile
Avril Lavigne’s Greatest Hits album came out this week.
It’s great.
Banger after banger.
This song is one of my favorites.
(Language warning for those who care)
I can’t remember if those were her exact words. That was 100% her tone though.
I know the “defund the police” conversations pissed off a bunch of law enforcement folks, but I do wonder if, because of these conversations, police are less prone to immediately arrest people, and more often want to bring in other professionals to assist in certain circumstances.
I don’t know if that’s true. Whatever the reason, I was grateful they made the choice they did.
Really appreciated your question of safety vs. comfort. I'll be mulling over that for a while!