One ten degrees below zero Minnesota night in 1994, I received a phone call from a social worker I knew. "River," she plunged right in, "Damon is sixteen, he's drunk, and they've kicked him out of Project Youth because of it. There's nowhere I can place him because none of the youth shelters will take him when he's drunk. They have their rules. His parents say they consider you a friend of the family. Will you take him in for tonight?" At the time I got this call, I had just moved from youth outreach to a job with an agency working with the mentally ill. I knew taking Damon in could cost me my job. I responded, "You know if I take him in I could lose my job, just as you could lose yours if you gave him a bed for the night. Why are you asking me?" She didn't miss a beat before she replied: "Because you've always been willing to function in the grey areas." She was right. I sometimes feel like I live in the grey areas of life most of the time. (I took Damon in, of course, drunk as he was. I knew he could have frozen to death on the streets. And I didn't lose my job.)

So often when I see our more conservative Christian brothers and sisters proclaiming the Gospel as they understand it, I find myself thinking, "It must be a lot easier having answers that are so black and white." I don't have all the answers and I know it. I live in the grey areas where black and white more often than not get smudged and blurred.

Living in the grey areas means living in those untidy, painful places where the black and white certainties, most often created by societal norms, just don't cut it. It means living in the unknown, being at one with the suffering of these uncertain places, acting out a presence of compassion that is willing to risk not having all the answers. It means letting down one's defenses and simply being in the moment, acting out of radical love, even when doing so cuts across societal expectations of black and white, proper and improper, appropriate and inappropriate, acceptable and unacceptable.

In the world I live in, the world of Polk Gulch and the Tenderloin, a world where the struggle for simple survival is a daily challenge, there are very few blacks and whites. At mass during the prayers of the people, I have heard voices raised in petitions such as "God, please let me not get caught when I boost [shoplift] at K-Mart tomorrow" or "Lord, please keep the undercover cops off the street when I'm out." Shocking as these prayers may seem to some ears, I suspect they are no less valued by God than the prayers offered by corporate executives for the success of business ventures that involve exploiting Third World laborers with cheap wages or those lifted up by military chaplains asking God's blessing on the efforts of the troops among whom they minister. We ask amiss more than we ask aright but God is in the business of taking our misguided, sin-riddled prayers and extracling from them that kernel of faith and trust that God can work with for our transformation.

I am sometimes criticized for not responding with the "right" answer to kids who come up to me and announce casually that they're going to shoot up now, or that "I made some good change on a cool credit card scam.' Recently, two young men were hanging out with me and going on and on about sex, sex and more sex. I finally blurted out: "Why is the only thing you guys can ever talk about sex or drugs?" One of them grinned. "River, that's why we like you. We can be ourselves around you." This is what it's like living in the grey areas.

For me, living in the grey areas means accepting people where they are, with their own particular moral compass, without feeling the need to always weigh in and impose mine. This sort of unconditional acceptance can make possible those unexpected incarnational moments when Christ is suddenly present among us in love. Like Will Campbell, I believe that "we're all bastards, but the good news is that God loves us anyway." How can I believe any less, when I know I'm one of the biggest bastards of all and God loves me?

As we did last month, we are offering four weekly suggestions that you might consider in your own journey for social justice and peace.

Week 1: Telephone the White House (202/456-1111) to express your concern about nuclear weaponry.

Week 2: Drop a note of understanding and reconciliation to an estranged relative or friend.

Week 3: Spend a day praying frequently for all you have hated, resent, or have anger towards...and then forgive yourself, too.

Week 4: Read a book about one or more of the peoples which comprise the former Soviet Union.

Ozzie, age 21, died on June 12m at a hotel on Mission street from an overdose of heroin. He was a gentle soul who had flowed in and out of the grey areas of the life of Polk Street since he was 12 years old. He fought year in and year out with his drug addiction and in that on-going struggle he maintained his dignity and treated those he met on the streets with dignity. On June 20m, Fr. River celebrated a memorial service for Ozzie at Old First Presbyterian Church.

This summer we are privileged to have three interns and a priest in residence joining us in the work of Temenos. Intern Sean Fenton, whom we introduced in our last newsletter, is an anthropology major at Stanford who plans to continue with Temenos for three years as a volunteer and to do his senior thesis on our work. Intern Sarah Nathan is a student at Brandeis University in Boston. The daughter of Dr. Richard and Carol Nathan of San Francisco, Sarah is majoring in -sociology and hopes to become a doctor. Intern Seth Cohen of Sacramento is a sophomore at UCLA. He will begin his internship in August. With a strong commitment to social justice, Seth is considering the priesthood.

Father Geoff Simpson, an Episcopal priest from Virginia who serves as chaplain in a boys' preparatory school will be our priest in residence for the month of July while he does a sabbatical study.

On June 15th, we employed Matt Fitney as our Volunteer Coordinator. Funds for Matt's position were made available through a private grant. Matt's responsibilities will include coordination of volunteers, fund raising and assistance to Fr. River in outreach. A longtime volunteer with Temenos, Matt graduated from the University of San Francisco with a B.A. in communications and sociology. He teaches at-risk kids in the Tenderloin. Matt will be working for Temenos twelve hours a week.

At the heart of all we do stands the Eucharist. Week in and week out, the celebration of the Eucharist on the streets grounds us in our identity as the Body of Christ in the midst of the poorest of the poor. We celebrate the Eucharist each Sunday at 6:15 p.m. in Hemlock Alley, with a meal on the street following.

We would like to remind people that, even though summer is a slow time for many, our ministry still goes on at full strength. We ask you to continue to share in that ministry. In the months of May and June, we provided some 2500 meals, 100 pairs of socks, 10,000 clean needles, 200 condoms, 80 blankets, clothes to 100 people and food baskets to 185 low-income families. We have also celebrated two funerals, made 20 hospital calls and 25 jail visits, heard 80 confessions and conducted 202 "one on ones."

We thank the following supporters for their generosity: Dr. Richard Gilbert, Stephen Smith, David Travins, Katherine Paredes, Ernest Krause, Fr. Mario DiCicco, Shoshanah Dobry, Fr. Stephen Bartlett-Ré, The Rev. Roy Burchard, Chris Seltzer, Daniel & Maria Johnson, Edward LeBlanc, Anita Roche, Order of Christian Workers, Larry Nelson, Bishop Stephen Edward Burke, Antoinette Taillac, Marybeth Williams, First Congregational Church, Dr. Katherine Regan, Larry Holben, St. Anthony Foundation, Matin de Porres House of Hospitality and the Catholic Worker Farm at Sheep Ranch. Also a very special and grateful thank you to Roy and Linda Moss.