Joseph's story

Catholic New Times, Nov 21, 2004 by Jeff Doucette

In ministry, a knock on the door is always an adventure.

You never know who is coming, or what their reason. The knock has brought friends and strangers gifts and news of a death or illness. Every so often the knock on my door opens to the broad grin and scrunched-up eyes of Joseph Bourque who walks the streets and calls them his home.

This is part of his sacred story. Joseph comes once in a while in search of a few dollars to help him through the hard times. I help when I can, and often I drive him to where he needs to be.

I first met Joseph while I was presiding Eucharist at Saint Bartholomew's parish in Melrose, N.B. This is a quiet country parish a few kilometres from the Confederation Bridge, which leads to Prince Edward Island. Just as I was into the opening prayer, in walked this stranger, who was obviously one who had been travelling. His clothes were worn and he carried a couple of shopping bags. His long hair and bushy beard showed the signs of a long journey. He took his place in the midst of the community and began to respond to the prayers.

After the celebration, he came over to me and introduced himself as Joseph. He asked for a ride to the local gas station in Port Elgin, where he could buy a cup of coffee.

So began a friendship some five years ago.

Joseph Edgar Bourque was born 61 years ago to Laurent and Beatrice Bourque in Shediac, N.B. He was the fifth of 14 children. Joseph worked as a chute puller in the gold mines of Manitoba and as a clerk in a pharmaceutical company. Eventually he was diagnosed with a chemical imbalance which turned out to be schizophrenia. He takes medication to control the mental illness and its side effects. He tells me often that he is not dangerous and knows he must take his medication. He has a genuine concern for others and is very knowledgeable about what he must live and deal with each day.

Joseph also lives with arthritis and diabetes. With all of these ailments Joseph still lives each day braving nature's elements.

Joseph distrusts shelters, as do many who live on the streets, and is therefore forced to find shelter wherever he can. Joseph has told me stories of sleeping out in fields, on the ege of the woods, under church canopies, wherever he can find a bit of comfort. He lives on the generosity of others.

I remember arriving in Melrose for Eucharist one morning and as I walked in, there was Joseph grinning, eating breakfast and drinking coffee in our entryway. I was told that he was sleeping On our front step, curled up to protect himself from the cold winter's night. Someone saw him and called the police. When they arrived and woke up Joseph, he was upset they had disturbed his sleep. Parishioners who live close by heard the commotion, came over, and when they saw it was Joseph, they opened up the church to let him sleep in the entryway.

In the morning they brought him a breakfast and put on hot coffee. I arrived that morning for Mass to see Joseph grinning while drinking a cup of coffee and dragging on a cigarette. People have come to recognize Joseph and most often will stop to offer him a ride to one place or another.

But Joseph is not always so lucky. At different times, he has been stopped by local law enforcement who do not know him and put him through the ringer. He has recently spent six days in the hospital nursing a bad bug bite that almost cost him his leg. He braves the hot humid summers and the cold damp winters with great resilience.

In the midst of Joseph's journey, what strikes me most is his tremendous love of God and wonderful faith. He speaks to me often of that love and I have seen it in action. Joseph lives on a measly $558 a month from social services. With this, he must feed and clothe himself as well as provide for medication that he must often pay for himself.

One day, I saw him offer to buy another needy person a coffee at Tim Horton's. Joseph also paid for a bus trip to Edmundston himself, some five hours away, to visit a dying priest who had previously helped him. He told Father Sylvio that he was not looking for money this time but instead had come to pray with him and say his goodbyes. Father Sylvio was a priest who loved those in need and ministered often to them.

That day Joseph was the priest and nurtured Sylvio, whose eyes watered with gratitude. Joseph also spoke to me of a 48-hour-fast he just finished for Jesus. I scolded him gently because of his diabetes and how he needed to eat regularly. He believed Jesus would take care of him and he laughed at my good-natured attempt to be serious.

Joseph also came one Sunday at the beginning of our Eucharist. We always have hospitality at Immaculate Heart in Riverview and that day, Joseph was one of the greeters. He joined in and began to welcome people. It was such a great sight and the reaction of people was a sight to see. Joseph made himself at home whereever he was. After Mass, he waited patiently for a ride back to Tim Horton's downtown. Both loving Tim's coffee, we're kindred spirits. These are but a few of the stories of Joseph.