Ministry reaches homeless by listening

RALEIGH -- Many Christian ministries help the homeless people who hang out around Moore Square in downtown Raleigh.

Love Wins is best defined by what it doesn't do.

It doesn't invite homeless people to church.

It doesn't distribute pamphlets describing the way of salvation.

It doesn't even talk about Jesus.

Yes, the ministry does offer food. On Saturday and Sunday mornings, there are biscuits and coffee in a corner of the square. But as the volunteers will tell you, the food is merely a prop. The real ministry happens after the food is long gone.

It's then that the real sharing takes place. Last weekend, James Clifton, 53, was happy to catch up after a stint in jail. Richard Shay, 60, unfolded the begging permit a police officer forced him to take out and showed it to folks. Eldridge Williams, 52, told about his new job holding up signs on street corners pointing drivers to a furniture store sale.

For nearly two hours, a casual exchange took place, one that lies at the heart of what this two-year-old ministry is about.

"If we have a goal, it's relationships," said Hugh Hollowell, 37, the ministry's founder and director. "All the good things that happen happen through relationships."

Over the past two years, Hollowell and a handful of other dedicated Christians have bailed some of these street people out of jail, accompanied them to court hearings, helped them find public defenders, found them rooms to stay in, intervened with landlords for those ready to rent, washed their clothes and bought them work boots.

But most of all they've stood and listened.

Clifton, who has known the group members for more than two years, said he had nothing but admiration for them.

"I love them," he said. "They're my people. It's like a family circle."

A year ago, a police car ran into Clifton and broke his neck. Holloway got him into a rooming house and paid his $90 a week rent while he recuperated.

"A lot of homeless work is predicated on the idea that 'We know how to fix you,'" Hollowell said. "A lot of social services are in the personal trainer mode. We're in the people mode. We think they're valuable because they exist."

Among the handful of people similarly dedicated to unconditionally loving homeless people, Hollowell does it full time. A former Marine who worked as a financial planner in Memphis for several years, Hollowell found his journey up and down the social success ladder dizzying.

Life-changing retreat

A poor boy from Byhalia, a town of about 800 in northern Mississippi, he joined the Marines on what he called the "economic draft." It helped pay his way through college at the University of Memphis and launched him on a successful business career in sales.

By the time he was 26, Hollowell was making $90,000 a year. He bought himself tailored suits, a fancy sports car and lived in a gated community. Selling life insurance led him to a career in financial planning, where he said he "helped old rich people hide their money from the government."

A lifelong Methodist, Hollowell joined a respectable church where he was able to network with other successful people. God, he had been taught, wanted him to be prosperous and happy. So far, that God had answered most of his prayers.

But when he turned 30, Hollowell went on a three-day church retreat that changed his life. For the first time, he was confronted with a different version of God; one who wanted him to love his neighbors and was concerned primarily about the poor. Life, he suddenly realized, wasn't about him. It was about something bigger.

That revelation led him to quit his job and sell his house. For a while Hollowell owned a bookstore in downtown Memphis. In 2007, on a trip to Knightdale to visit a friend, he fell in love with the Triangle and decided to move into Raleigh's Mordecai neighborhood and share a home with a bunch of other guys.

Within six months, he befriended some homeless people while working part time on his laptop in downtown cafes writing for Web pages and reading about the lives of people such as St. Francis and Mother Teresa.

The realization that a homeless person was as valuable to God as he was "messed" him up, Hollowell said, and he began to envision a life dedicated to ministering to homeless people.

The model of Jesus

But Hollowell discovered that homeless people didn't want another Christian helping them. In fact, many didn't have a high regard for church folk. They just wanted someone to talk to. So he listened.

Along the way, he found other Christians who had reached the same conclusions. Last year, they founded Love Wins Ministry. With the help of local churches and individuals, the ministry was able to operate on a budget of $20,000, including Hollowell's annual salary of $12,000.

"When I met Hugh, I thought, 'How does he do it - immersed in this sea of problems seven days a week?'" said Greg Clark of Apex, who alongside his wife, Donna, hands out biscuits with sausage and cheese every weekend at Moore Square. "But he feels amazingly compelled to love these people by following the model of Jesus."

That model has convinced Hollowell that chronic homelessness can be solved only through relationship building. Nearly every day, one of his homeless friends confirms his commitment.

"I don't know what I'd do without them," said Williams, who works two days a week holding up signs for a furniture store. "Sometimes I get scared. If I'm feeling bad or depressed, I can call them."

Of course, it's hard to persuade people to give money to a ministry whose goal is to build relationships. Most ministries want to show donors a set of outcomes - the number of people it converted or the number of meals served. But Hollowell is undeterred.

"We're not out to proselytize," he said. "We're out to value their humanity."

Earlier this week, Holloway went to visit a couple who had just moved into a rented apartment. He then met with a couple of pastors. Then he put in time at his "office," down in Moore Square.