You're in the Right Place
David Kelly • December 14, 2022
“You’re in the right place if you work for peace…”
Fr. Greg Boyle, SJ, in his latest book, “Forgive Everyone Everything”, writes that scripture scholars contend that the original language of the Beatitudes should not be “Blessed are the single hearted” or “Blessed are the peace workers” or “Blessed are those who struggle for justice”. A better translation would be “You’re in the right place if you are single hearted” or “You’re in the right place if you work for peace…”
In 2000 as we began to dream and plan for PBMR, there were a couple things that were non-negotiable. One, was that we had to be in a neighborhood/community that knew first-hand the pains of violence and incarceration. It would have to be a community that allowed us to be proximate
to those we served/accompanied. And so, in 2002, when the doors of PBMR opened, we moved into the Back-of-the-Yards community on the south side of Chicago. Beginning in a small janitor’s apartment at St. Michael the Archangel parish, the four of us (Joe Nassal, Bill Nordenbrock, Denny KInderman and myself) began our work. Little did we know what exactly would lie ahead. But with the commitment to the spirituality of the Precious Blood and the gift of the ministry of Reconciliation, we set forth to try to be witness of God’s presence and love amidst the trauma
of incarceration and violence. In addition, we sought to be a resource of renewal for the church.
In 2004, we had the opportunity to move into the second floor of a converted school building that once was the St. John of God Parish. The parish closed in the mid 90’s and after was used as a residence for youth in the care of the state. Today, while more in number – both staff and community members - we still seek to be that presence of God’s overwhelming and healing love. We have opened several houses that serve as a home for men and women who are coming home from prison and families who have unstable housing situations.
Early in November of this year, we opened a small center about a block from PBMR’s main building. It had been a well-known neighborhood market – food and liquor – for many years, but in the years since it has stood abandoned—a sign of the devastation our neighborhood faces. Because of generous benefactors and supporters, we were able to obtain the building and in a community effort – supporters, staff and young people – it has been completely rehabbed and restored. We’ve dedicated this space to become a healing center
where families and young people can experience the love and care that is at the heart of the spirituality of the Precious Blood. In this center (yet to be named) we will focus solely on healing: individual, family, and community. It will become a space (and already has) where people can build, renew, and repair relationships.
The very first gathering, even before the building was fully complete, Sr. Donna held a circle for mothers who had lost their sons or daughters to homicide in the past year. It was a powerful circle where families could finally speak of their loss and pain amidst people who were willing to listen without judgement. Since that first circle, several gatherings have been held in this new space: young people coming home from jail and detention, men and women previously incarcerated who work to support those returning home, and PBMR staff who rely on strong community relationships to do the work we do.
Sr. Elaine Roulette, the founder of My Mother’s House in New York, was asked, “How do you work with the poor?” She answered, “You don’t. You share your life with the poor.”
As we have found so often, it can be as easy as crying together, laughing together, sharing time with one another.
I remember the very first conversations that we had regarding the creation of a ministry of reconciliation. We asked one another, “what if there was a place in the community where people could experience care and support, a place where we could concentrate on healing and transformation. The “old May street store” has become such a place. It is solely dedicated to healing and transformation. Perhaps that should be the name – PBMR’s “Center for Healing and Transformation”
I am often asked how I have been able to do this work for as long as I have. “All the heartache and disappointment, how do you keep yourself going?” I truly believe that it is because I am in the right place.
I am where I should be and when you are where God wants you to be, incredible things happen.
As we close out this 20th Anniversary of PBMR, know of my deep gratitude for all the encouragement, care, and support for the hospitality, hope, and healing for our youth and families here in Back of the Yards throughout these 20 years.
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December New Creation Column written by Fr. David Kelly, CPPS.
“When we are willing to step outside our comfortable circles, we discover that God has been waiting for us there all along.”
“ It is difficult to hate someone whose story you know. ”
In an age marked by polarization, suspicion, and division, the greatest need in our world is not simply better arguments but deeper relationships.
“ A nation becomes stronger, not weaker, when it is willing to examine itself honestly. ”
“The first message of Jesus is that of compassion. Mission will follow.”
“We’re all doing the same work. We all have the same issues, but we all have our own approaches to the work, right? But turns out, it's one fight. This is one united front.”
“If we truly want safer communities and a more just society, then we must be willing to imagine and invest in a better way for everyone.”
“We learn from those who continue to love, even when they have been betrayed.”
"We all know love when we see it. All the rest are labels."
Advent always begins in darkness. It tells the truth about the world as it is— a world where violence wounds lives and communities, where incarceration separates families, and where fear too often speaks louder than hope. And yet, Advent also insists that the story does not end in darkness. For those who live under the weight of isolation— for survivors of violence, for their families, for communities whose resources are stretched thin— the promise of Advent is not a naïve denial of pain. It is a quiet, steady flame that refuses to go out. This season reminds us that God does not wait for the world to be tidy or whole before drawing near. God comes into the places where the night is longest— into prison cells and courtrooms, into hospital waiting rooms, into homes where grief has taken up residence— and whispers, “I am here.” Advent hope is not passive. It is the hope that allows us to take the next step, to believe that healing is possible, to accompany one another with tenderness and courage. It is the hope that teaches us to look for light before we can see it fully. As we move through this season, may we honor the truth of the darkness without being claimed by it. May we carry hope not as a fragile wish, but as a reason to continue— a reason to keep showing up, to keep loving, to keep believing that God’s dawn is already on its way. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Amen.
Reimagining Justice in Illinois: A Restorative Justice Blueprint for Illinois’ Criminal Legal System
The following text is an excerpt from an article of the same title, first published on the RJHubs website by Karlyn Boens. Joe’s story brought these themes to life on a human scale. “I never had a chance to be a kid,” he shared. Growing up in constant survival mode, childhood was something he had to skip to stay alive. At PBMR, he experienced something different: “I could let my hair down. I discovered I was good at talking to people.” What Joe encountered was radical hospitality and accompaniment—restorative practices that rarely appear in legislation or policy yet quietly transform lives every day. Where systems had seen risk, PBMR saw relationship. Where institutions had offered surveillance, PBMR offered presence and belonging. His story illustrated what it looks like when the human rights lens is made concrete: a space where connection, dignity, and possibility are not conditional, but assumed. This conversation captures what restorative justice demands of us in Illinois. It is not about launching more programs or pilots. It is about: A paradigm shift in how we understand safety A culture shift in how institutions wield power A system shift in how decisions are made, data is collected, and accountability is defined Imagine an Illinois where: Human rights guide decision-making Restorative justice is the standard, not the exception Communities lead the healing Data includes lived experience, not just charges and convictions Redemption is not selective Adults are not excluded from restoration And every child has the chance to just be a child This panel did not hand us easy answers. Instead, it offered an invitation—a call to build the ecosystem our communities have been waiting for, one relationship, one policy, one practice at a time.
I remember that as a kid, I struggled with the notion of Original Sin. I am not sure if it was the way it was taught or my simple mind, but I thought it unfair to slap a sin on a newborn child. Today, I understand it not as a personal fault or sin, but that a child is born into a wounded world. How many times have we said that our youth today have a lot more to deal than we did? Our society is wounded; it is ill, and, dare I say, sinful. That is not a Democrat or Republican thing; not right or left’ it is all us contributing to a world in which too many are suffering. The other day, at the Cook County Juvenile Temporary Detention Center, I was talking with a young man of only 15 years old who told me he had been in over 20 different group homes and foster homes. Another young man who comes to the PBMR Center almost daily says he had been in 14 different schools before his high school years. When asked why, he responded that his mother was unable to keep up with all the bills. “We kept being put out with nowhere to go.” So often, the focus is on the individual faults or failings: a mother unable to care properly for her children, single parent families, and so on, but we overlook the societal sins that wreak havoc on families and communities; the fact that so many have so much, and others struggle to make do from day to day. Pope Leo XIV has recently put out an Apostolic Exhortation ─ a Pope’s call to the faithful for virtue ─ entitled Dilexi Te , or “ I have loved you. ” It is a continuation of the Encyclical ─ a stronger call from the Pope to all bishops of the Church ─ that Pope Francis wrote, Dilexit Nos , or “ He loved us. ” In this, Pope Leo’s first exhortation, he states that the “love of the Lord, then, is one with the love of the poor.” Explaining his choice of that name, Pope Francis related how, after his election, a Cardinal friend of his embraced him, kissed him, and told him, “Do not forget the poor.” He obviously took that to heart in choosing the name Francis after St. Francis of Assisi. Our love for one another brings us closer to a God who is love. Pope Leo says, “the poor are not just people to be helped, but the sacramental presence of the Lord.” For my entire priesthood, I have worked on the South Side of Chicago, the jails, the Detention Center, and with those who suffer violence. I can say that of all education, formation and teaching, nothing has brought me closer to the love of God than those who are suffering incarceration and poverty. Today, we hear of the plight of those who have come to this country seeking a better life. We can argue about policy; we can argue about secure borders; but we cannot deny that the gospel and all of scripture compels us to love the stranger among us. The call of the Church has been to accompany the migrant. My own congregation came to the US accompanying the German immigrants who came to this country in search of a better life. Fr. Greg Boyle, Jesuit priest, shares in his book, “ Cherished Belonging, ” that there are two parades the day Jesus enters Jerusalem. There is Pilate and his show of military power and force, heading to Jerusalem from the west. Then, there’s Jesus, on a small donkey humbly entering the city from the east. Jesus’ trek and mission displays a way of life whose hallmarks are inclusion, nonviolence, unconditional loving, kindness, and compassionate acceptance. The parade of warhorses announces the threat of violent force, coercion, and the oppression of the poor. The “triumphant” entrance of Jesus is not an indictment, but an invitation. Village transcending tribe. Jesus doesn’t draw lines, He erases them. (Boyle, p. 87-88) Martin Luther King’s last book was called “ Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? ” We find our way out of chaos and its dispiriting tribalism by standing against forgetting that we belong to one another. (Boyle, p. 89) There is an Irish saying: “It is in the shelter of each other that people live.” As Christians ─ as believers ─ we are called to be shelter for one another. We are called to believe that no one is born evil; that all are created in the image of the One who is love. Pope Leo is calling us to be mindful of the migrant; to remember our own origin as a church and the gospel mandate to love our sisters and brothers – no exception. In his writing, Pope Leo says very clearly, “The Church has always recognized in migrants a living presence of the Lord who, on the day of judgement, will say to those on his right, ‘I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.’ (Mt 25:35) We should not forget who we are and in whose shelter we live.
