Testimony

What have I learned from my ministry? I have learned that poverty is not pretty, nor is it romantic. The traumatic experiences of violence, abuse and endemic poverty deeply wound the people of Camden. Like war survivors, they have learned behaviors of survival that often help them exist in ugly ways. In this environment violence is normalized, abuse is tolerated, and grief is denied. This leads to many people struggling with how to manage their own anger, disappointment, and stress. I see this exploding in shootings, domestic violence and neglect of children.

It is a hard place for the people who live here. I have found that the face of Christ Crucified is not recognized. In fact, the face of the poor is often stigmatized by cultural "norms and values." Christ's face in Camden is disfigured by years of trauma, often times cloaked in racial and class stereotypes. The face of Christ that reflects the trauma of this city isn't accepted outside of our borders. Instead, it is a face that many seem to turn away from, whether that be through accusation or by demanding that the face be healed before it becomes part of our community, our school, our "way of life."

For me personally, I struggle with Christ's crucified body at times because it seems easier to go somewhere else and not encounter it, to experience a world where life isn't crucified the way it is in Camden. I find I often experience an emotional dissonance when I am not in Camden for life seems oddly different, comfortable and lacking in what I know in the city. It is not that there is no suffering in other parts of the world, but rather it is that there is a capacity to be present to it, to find support, presence and even companionship in a way that seems quite elusive here. In Camden, the abundance of God seems drained away by the daily onslaught of the situation.

Yet, odd as it may seem, I find God in Camden. I feel called to be present here, deeply moved by a sense of justice and a gnawing call that God deeply cares about this situation, that I join Jesus in wanting to be present here. I often find consolation in the mediation of the Trinity wanting to enter the world and the Son being sent forth. I find myself wondering, "Does Camden exhaust God?" What is it to be incarnate here? What must it be like for Jesus to experience his creation, his beloved being, so mistreated? It is in these moments, perhaps much like running a race, when I touch Jesus' desire and find a "new breath" about me.

It is not that I often feel successful here. Whereas so many ministries in the Society are ones of "success," where youth gain degrees, where sports championships are proudly won, where we measure campus growth and the amount our youth who earn scholarships, I find myself more aligned with the ministry of "failure." The people I work with fail all of the time. Their progress is not "linear;" very few begin as freshman and finish as seniors. Rather, their paths meander, going from "a to g to f to p to b." Things are always falling apart. Evictions, fights, bills, illnesses, and incarcerations makes it hard to get any momentum much of the time. Progress in Camden isn't quite like what I grew up with. Accompaniment doesn't look, nor does it feel, "successful," the way it seems when I say mass at a local Jesuit university or visit a suburban parish Yet, amazingly, Christ is alive here. I deeply experience God's desire for life here, to heal the vast wound that is here, to touch and be present to a people who are maligned and forgotten. The labor of God and the invitation to "not count the cost" seems offered with frequency.

Recently, we have begun to plant crosses to remember the many killed in our city this year. We have two places in the city where once, and often twice, a week, we come together and install crosses with the murder victims' names and ages on them. Various community members will ornately decorate the crosses for the victims. Sometimes they know the individuals and other times they do not. However, they do this with a tenderness and care that lovingly names a pain that often goes silenced.

The symbolic crosses and the people that create and maintain them very much remain close to Christ's cross like a modern day Golgatha. Similar to the women who stood faithfully at the foot of the cross, a cross that many people in Jerusalem that day did not know about, our community faithfully comes together to believe, to comfort, to embrace in the expectation of God. This hope is not easy; it requires quite a bit of sweat here in Camden. Iam amazed to find colleagues, friends, and ordinary folks who desire this. They give me solace, and I am strengthened by their faithfulness towards the crucified Christ.

Jeff Putthoff, SJ

Hopeworks, USA