Brian Castelli – With His Heart

The truth is, it was kind of meaningless. I feel I wasted something.

The October 2, 2009 edition of The Week magazine reports that this is actor Woody Harrelson’s assessment of years of “hedonism” brought on by quick success in a business known for its excesses. Harrelson continues:

…you take those hours–not to mention the money–I spent and apply it toward something meaningful… I could have learned 12 languages! I could’ve learned several martial arts. I mean mastered. I could’ve become a successful engineer and still had time to study acupuncture and the guitar, the flute, and the ukelele. I did have a… ball! Loved it! But did it help me or anyone around me?

The last question shows that Harrelson is finally starting to get it. Our value, our worth, is not measured by how well we entertained, how much money we made, or how many partners we slept with. Our success is measured by the kind of difference we make in the lives of those around us.

She’s 65 and married, but I just feel compelled to refer to her as “Miss Barbara”.

In the weeks leading up to the MFUGE trip in July of 2007, Miss Barbara kept asking, “Why did I sign up for this trip?” She wondered aloud if she’d lost her mind. What business does a retired woman have hanging around with a bunch of middle- and high-school youth? My answer: All the business in the world.

I was leading devotions for our church group on a Tuesday night in Charleston. The kids had studied about Jesus healing the sick, and I focused our sharing time on the fact that if God has the power to heal us physically he also has the power to heal us spiritually. I borrowed some material from Dr. Lutzer at Moody Church and reminded the kids that Peter sinned three times when he denied Jesus. And Mark’s gospel tells is that the angel told the women to go tell the disciples “and Peter” Jesus was alive on the third day. I shared with them that even if they had sinned over and over again that Jesus was issuing that same invitation to them. And Brian. And Mary. And Veronica.

As we came to the close of our church devotion time, I had one more thing that I wanted to share with the kids. Before I did so, I asked if anyone wanted to share what had happened that day on the work sites. Many had something to say, and we shared until our time was almost gone. Miss Barbara raised her hand to speak, but I forgot to call on her. As I started to share that last bit, one of the other adult leaders reminded me that Miss Barbara was still waiting. I called on her to share.

Miss Barbara’s track team had gone to a food bank that day. Due to fire marshal regulations, however, not everyone on the team was allowed to enter the building. A number of them stood outside wondering what to do. Miss Barbara suggested that they go on a prayer walk through the neighborhood. I guess it wasn’t a very nice neighborhood because the track leader was not enthusiastic about it.

No one else stepped forward, but Miss Barbara felt a call to go. She said, “Well, I’m going to go myself.” Two of the boys from our church were there, and they had been “taking care of” Miss Barbara all week – treating her as if she was their grandmother. They said that they’d go with her. This sudden show of support inspired a few others, and off they went into the neighborhood to do some prayin’!

As they rounded the corner behind the food bank, the group discovered a homeless shelter. The building was in horrible shape. Men has been urinating (and worse) outside of the building. The smell and the sight of it were too much for Miss Barbara. She began to weep as she stood there looking at the conditions. She also started to weep as she told us this story.

Filled with emotion, Miss Barbara said, “Don’t miss out, young people! When I was your age, I didn’t even know there were opportunities like this to serve the Lord. I made so many mistakes when I was young! I wish I had listened to my daddy! But I didn’t! I was stubborn. I ran away, and I missed it! I missed it! Don’t you miss it! You have a great opportunity to help. Don’t waste it!” She concluded with, “I’m sorry for crying…”

I looked around the room. Almost everyone was visibly touched. It only took me 1/2 of a second to decide what to do. I said, “I have nothing more to say. Let’s pray.” And we did.

What business did Miss Barbara have participating on the MFUGE trip? She had a message to deliver, a message that came from her heart and touched the hearts of an unknown number of young and old alike.

God bless you, Miss Barbara.

This past summer, I spent a week in Cherokee, NC. I went with 20 youth from our church. We joined some 300+ other volunteers to repair and refurbish houses in Cherokee with an outfit called Mission Serve. (http://www.servemg.com/)

When Mission Serve runs a project in a community, it works with local organizations to identify homes in need of repair – new roofs, porches, paint jobs, etc.

I was a part of the Delta-Victor squad. The 9 of us, 5 adults and 4 youth, were asked to refurbish or replace porches on two homes in the Big Cove area of Cherokee. It took 5 days to complete the repairs.

The first porch, shown to the right, was a roof replacement. The original roof over the porch was rotten and crumbling.one of my squadmates almost fell through the roof as we worked to remove the old shingles and decking. The most fun was getting to use a sledgehammer to knock the snot out of the decking. Cool!

The second porch was a complete replacement, see left. The original porch was much smaller, had no roof, and was covered with rotten wood and slime. The porch roof we built is covered with tin to match the rest of the house.

We worked very hard to complete these projects. We had many setbacks as we ran into situations we didn’t anticipate. In the end we were successful.

When I visited Cherokee last summer, I discovered that some of the people were stuck in a cycle that is robbing them of their culture. Let me explain.

The city of Cherokee, NC is in located within the boundaries of the reservation set aside for the Eastern Band of the Cherokee. My squad was assigned to work on two houses owned by members of the Cherokee band. While working on the first home, a female representative from the local utility company came by to turn off the power for non-payment. The woman accepted the home owner’s promise to pay and started to leave. A couple of us struck up a conversation with the woman as she headed back to her pickup truck.

First we talked about why we (Mission Serve) were there. This led to a conversation about the financial condition of the home owner. She told us that she knew the home owner had the money because they had just received their semi-annual per-capita check from the Cherokee Casino. It turns out that this home owner was caught in a cycle where she could not pay her bills until the Casino check ($2600 per person) came. Apparently each Cherokee Indian receives a small share of the Casino profits twice a year.

Second we talked about the woman’s employment. I think she must be a tough woman. Her present job is telling home owners their power is going to be cut off. Her previous job was as a corrections officer (aka prison guard) in Bryson City. She told us that she saw the same Cherokee people run a cycle through the prison. They’d get into trouble – usually alcohol related – and end up in jail. They lack the funds to make bail, so they sit in jail until the Casino check arrives. Once the check comes, they make bail, get out, get into trouble again. Then they sit in jail until the next Casino check comes.

Now let’s move on to the second house. The TV was on the entire time we were there. In the living room, in front of the TV, they had an abs workout machine. On the floor beneath the abs machine was a DVD case for Eddie Murphy’s Norbitt. On the walls of the 10-year-old daughter’s room were posters of Usher, Nickelback and Eminem. I was struck by the contrast between what I saw inside the house with the hand-carved wooden bear and deer figurines the owner produced on the front porch.

I put these incidents together to make the claim that many among the Cherokee have lost their way. Despite a proud heritage, they have lost their anchor and are adrift in a sea of Western culture and battered by a marketing-saturated media. They appear to be looking to the Casino for their salvation. It is a sad day for a proud people.

This past summer I spent some time with the youth of our church – and a few hundred youth from other churches across the southeast – working on house repairs in Cherokee, NC. One of the houses my squad worked on had a bunch of dogs. There were 6 beagles, 2 hound dogs, and one beagle mix running around in the yard. 3 of the beagles and both hound dogs were chained to decrepit dog houses. The other 3 beagles and the mix were allowed to run free.

The dogs were alternately timid and friendly. None of them made even a slightly aggressive move towards any of us, especially the youth in our group. The two 10th-grade girls on our squad took a special liking to the dogs.

On our second day at the “Dog House,” the girls smuggled in an entire loaf of bread. They fed every piece to those 9 dogs. They even gave up some of their lunches. The dogs were in dog heaven.

On the premises we also found two gray cats – one adult and one tiny kitten. The kitten was living under the porch we were rebuilding. The 8th-grade boy on our squad really became attached to the kitten. It seemed weak and in need of care. He carried it, fed it, and cuddled with it much of the time. In the end, with the home owner’s permission, we took the kitten with us. One of the female staff members of Mission Serve took the kitten home with her.

When we returned to the “Dog House” later in the week to deliver a Bible to the home owner, the dogs acted as if we had never left. The youth had a chance to say their goodbyes one more time.