I Left My Heart in San Francisco--Zach

I Left My Heart in San Francisco--Zach!

Hebrews 12:1-2: (Net Version):

?“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,[a] we must get rid of every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set out for us, 2?keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the pioneer and perfector of our faith. For[b] the joy set out for him he endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”

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???? Coming to San Francisco, was a call from God, the One who was the only reality in my life that never judged, betrayed, or let me go.

??? And a part of my coming was etched into my brain, late one night? giving a young guy,? Sean some clean needles. He looked at me with so much compassion, as he said, "You must have really done something so bad that you are out here helping us druggies and whores!"

??? He was right, I felt overwhelmed by guilt: betraying the Church by being queer; my family who would no longer speak to me; being a prostitute for three years, and most of all guilty for betraying my son.

??? In my first year as a student pastor I met this beautiful girl, charming, sweet, soon to begin college, and later med school, she became pregnant. Our parents, and for me more importantly I could not have continued in the ministry, we decided to have him adopted. That adoption, the son, became one of the great secrets in my life!

??? This was a scar on the large piece of wood on my soul that did not begin to heal, until being contacted by his adoptive parents telling me he was like me, and was in the "gay" City, and they wanted nothing to do with him.

??? Within a month of working around the bars in San Francisco, this young kid approached me for some harm reduction supplies. His name, Zach,? charming, sweet, manipulative, good looking, and? my son. He was fifteen years old.

??? For the next seven years he was intricately a part of my life. We became friends, he was so needy, a young "speed freak," struggling with his sexuality, prostituting, and so alone.

??? I remember one rainy night he rang my buzzer, and as I met him at the door I could see he was coming down from a high, so tired, he dropped on my floor. For the next four days I had to pull him out of the way when people would come in, he slept so soundly.

??? Zach went to Portland in the Spring of 2001, as he did often, and one night a call from the Portland police came telling me he had violently been stabbed to death during a drug deal. The officer commented they thought it was a drug dealer, "Hollywood" Dave, but could not prove it.

???? Several years before high on speed Dave had stabbed me with a needle full of blood, in the face. which broke, and lodged deep inside of me, and I got malaria as well.

??? In the days following I had a memorial service, cremation, and committal for Zach, and? wanted to harm? "Hollywood" Dave. I envisioned so many ways to murder him, enjoying every moment. My heart hardened, with hate, God distant.

??? One cold-rainy night seven months later I received a phone call from a nurse, saying they needed a priest to give the final rights to a "gay drug addict", at that time queers were the "untouchables".

??? As I walked into his room, I saw? the man on the bed was "Hollywood" Dave, he was thin, his face just withdrawn, very pale. I thought to myself "you. sob die, go to hell!" In an instant it hit me--"I am a priest!" I could not walk away.

??? As I approached his bed, slowly, Dave looked at me, and his face was aglow as he begged for my forgiveness, and made his confession. As I anointed him, pronounced his absolution, I knew? it was absolution upon myself as well. A weight was lifted, I was free! I was free. I loved him, I forgave him!

??? Dave died five hours later and holding his hand one could see the face of the broken body of Christ.

???? I owe Zach my life, and the privilege of loving him, walking with him, and for the freedom and forgiveness I found in his life. Zach is in the communion of saints cheering me in this work, until I meet him face to face! Deo Gratis! Thanks be to God!

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(The photos above are first a heart, painted on a sign of California and Polk; the second is Zach and his trusted? skate board, being happy!)

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Put me in jail, then. Throw me behind your religious bars since you have dubbed me a breaker of your law. I live my days in the courtroom of your criticism. I move unbothered under the gaze of your gavel. I have no interest in defending myself before your bench. Go on, clench your fists, raise your voice to make your point. Type the rebuke that you must make on my page. Who asked you to come through anyway? Is this rage your duty? We operate under a different set of obligations and get worked up to frustration for different reasons, even though we both claim fidelity to God. If you were interested, which I doubt, here is where my passion lies: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, defend the rights of the orphan, plead the widow’s cause, and woe to you who unjustly enforce God’s Law. Why spend your energy policing me when that same energy could be used to love, fiercely? Justice, mercy, and humility. Go learn what this means. Drew Jackson

Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

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Temenos Catholic Worker

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

Dr. River Damien Carlos Sims, D.Min, D.S.T.

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“People ask me why do you write about food,

and eating and drinking. Why don’t you write

about the struggle for power and security and

about love, the way others do? The easiest answer

is to say that, like most other humans I am hungry (M.F. Fisher!”

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(Temenos and Dr. River seek to remain accessible to everyone. We do not endorse particular causes, political parties, or candidates, or take part in public controversies, whether religious, political, or social--Our pastoral ministry is to everyone!

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