On the 20th anniversary of Street Pastors here’s what one experienced volunteer has learned

It was nine years ago when I went out on my first patrol with Street Pastors. Like most branches, we went out once a month on a rota working from 10pm to 4am (now many branches have revised those times and start and finish earlier). I must admit I was apprehensive at first about being out at night, but I was part of a uniformed team, and we were given some excellent training beforehand.

Aged 62, after a time of being unemployed, I was recruited to work part-time as assistant co-ordinator for Street Pastors Kingston, my local town in Surrey. After forty years of full-time work, it seemed a good way to start approaching retirement. After several months the co-ordinator left unexpectedly, and I found myself stepping up to the role of acting co-ordinator.

Before joining Street Pastors, I used to walk past people begging on the street and I felt very conflicted. Do I give money or not? Do I stop to speak to them or not? On the one hand we were told not to give money as it could fund drug or alcohol dependency, on the other hand what if they were genuinely hungry? What did Jesus do?

I’ve learned to stop for rough sleepers, look them in the eye, exchange words, have a laugh, maybe give a hug, offer to pray, share a word, whatever seems appropriate at the time.

Over the years through being a Street Pastor, I have had the opportunity to get to know several rough sleepers, by name and to spend time listening rather than just flitting by. I’ve now learned to stop, look them in the eye, exchange words, have a laugh, maybe give a hug, offer to pray, share a word, whatever seems appropriate at the time. I want them to know they are my equal, valued and acceptable, that ultimately God loves them and thinks they are precious too.

When we’re on patrol we never give cash but we do offer to buy a Coca Cola, a burger and chips or give out a home-made sandwich and a bottle of water. This, in turn, affects how I behave during the day when I’m not in uniform. I try to treat them with respect, make eye contact, give a smile and invariably there’s some acknowledgement, a nod of the head, as if they are saying thank you for recognising my value.

After some time, I had the opportunity to apply for my role as a permanent post but I was approaching retirement age. Did I really want to take on a lot more responsibility? I heard that the Street Pastors branch in St. John’s the capital of Antigua in the Caribbean was looking for voluntary support. This seemed like a wonderful and exciting way to finish my working career! Working in a sunny climate, for a charity I was familiar with, was too good an opportunity to miss. So, I took the plunge and handed in my notice.

I learnt not to make assumptions, that these rough sleepers may well already have faith.

In St John’s I came to know a group of mainly men who sleep rough. As we patrolled at night several of them would ask for prayer. We didn’t even have to offer. I was very humbled. It was as if God was saying they may be homeless, but they have faith in me, they may be “nobodies” in the eyes of the world but they know that God sees them. So, I learnt not to make assumptions, that these rough sleepers may well already have faith. They might not ever go to church but that doesn’t mean they don’t want to know God or that they don’t believe in him.

I began to learn more about these rough sleepers as I would often stop to talk to them when about town during the day. I discovered they had relatives on the island, some indeed were fathers or even grandfathers. They maybe owned a home which they had abandoned to live on the streets. I came to realise they were members of a close community which looked out for each other. I also learnt to encourage them to pray for themselves and not assume that a Street Pastor had a hotline to God! 

Sue’s experiences as a Street Pastor led to co-authoring a book - Stories from the Streets published by Instant Apostle about the work in the UK and Antigua. You can get your copy here.