Salvation Army: the pious promise and the harsh reality

She survived the street, but is now in danger of ending up there again. Natasja Schreuder, seriously ill with complex problems, is evicted from her home by the Salvation Army and Orange Stoneware Management. A story about the gap between pious promises and practice.

It is early Saturday morning when the email arrives that is disrupting her life again: ‘Cancellation of loan agreement’. For Natasha Schreuder it means that her days in the small pavilion at Batelaar in Lunteren are numbered. She must leave her room (s) as of July 28.

In survival mode
Schreuder is not a random resident. She is an experienced Salvation Army employee with a past on the streets. Due to a crisis, she became homeless herself and ended up in a tent along the track in Ede. Her body still bears the scars of a life full of challenges: brain injury from a fall, chronic intestinal complaints for which she is now tube fed, a progressive corneal condition that worsened due to stress, and neurological impairments associated with giftedness and PTSD.

She is therefore in need of care and her medical treatments depend on a permanent place to live. Without an address, all healthcare processes disappear. “I survive. I'm just trying to recover,” she emails me. “They're just throwing me back out into the street. I'm not a nuisance. I am complex and unfortunately also sick.” When asked, she transparently provides all the information needed to check her story.

The cancellation letter comes from real estate manager Oranje Steengoed, who manages the Salvation Army buildings. The reason: complaints about inappropriate behavior. Schreuder refutes them. “I was framed,” she says. Things are not going well with her neighbor, but underneath it also plays a role that she the confrontation has been entered into about Batelaar's destination. I soon notice that this is sensitive for the healthcare organization. But even if someone is ‘difficult’, where can such a seriously ill woman go if the organization, which should be there for people like them, fails?

Three men, three excuses
Robert Dijkstra (Orange Stoneware Management) made the decision about Schreuder's fate. He admits that there has been no re-hearing of the complaints. “I called her that Friday. If she doesn't answer, well...” According to him, the complaints are serious, but a substantive conversation in advance did not take place. “We are a real estate manager, not a healthcare provider, he says business. What happens to Schreuder is beyond his responsibility. To make sure she leaves, he has already called in a bailiff.

Jan Overweg (Region Director Salvation Army) records from his holiday address. “No, I am not yet aware of that,” he says about the deportation of his fellow care provider. He refers to Dijkstra van Oranje Steengoed, who states that he has consulted the matter with his client. As the owner of the property, the Salvation Army can stop the denunciation, but does not. His social media profile has the motto: “Do what is possible.”

Catharinus van den Berg (spiritual counselor) is the initiator of the planned Pilgrim House on Batelaar –, a ‘sacred space’ for silence and prayer, right next to Schreuder's pavilion. About her expulsion he says: “The Pilgrim House is no match for this. We are completely outside here.” He suggests that our previous reporting contributed to the escalation – the journalist and the victim are made responsible, while he washes his hands in innocence.

leegstandsbeheerder robert 1
regiodirecteur jan
geestelijkverzorger catharinus
Three men, three excuses. Cartoons: Reynaert.

The mission
The Salvation Army was founded in the 19th century by William and Catherine Booth. In his final speech in 1912, William Booth summarized the organization's mission as

“As long as there are still women crying, I will fight.
As long as children are still hungry, I will fight.
As long as there are still men going to prison
in and out, in and out, I will fight.
As long as there is still one addict, as long as there is
one girl lost on the street walks, I will fight.
As long as there is still one person who does not have the light of God
has seen, I will fight, fight until it
bitter end.”

Today, the Salvation Army is an extensive healthcare organization with tight management layers. Their communications department responds in general phrases: “We never drop anyone.” Concretization is not forthcoming.

The life-threatening reality
Sources from the assistance that Natasja Schreuder knows paint a worrying picture. “Return to the street can have serious consequences,” says one of them. “Without medical care, the hair can die.” Her willingness to speak out about abuses makes her a ‘difficult person’ in bureaucratic systems. This ‘trickiness’ now seems to be sanctioned.

As Batelaar's owner, the Salvation Army has every opportunity to stop the deportation. The choice not to do this fits into a broader pattern of failing policy around homelessness, where “solutions” are often temporary or inadequate.

Who is the neighbor here?
In the Bible someone asks Jesus: “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus answers with the parable of the Good Samaritan. It is not about who your neighbor is, but for whom are you a neighbor?

In that parable, three men pass by someone in need. A priest and a leviet – religious leaders – walk by with their excuses, their functions, their priorities. But the Samaritan, who was hated by the Jews, stopped and took care.

Schreuder's best buddy will be released next week. A man who slept with her in a tent along the track in Ede when she lost everything. He had nothing. No house. But he shared what he had and was there for her. He was her neighbor.

And now?

Three men walk by. The Salvation Army Regional Director, the spiritual counselor with his ‘sacred space’, and the property manager. All three have a house, a salary, a car, holidays. All three look away. They invoke rules, protocols and privacy, and shift responsibility away from them.

Who is the neighbor here? Who will stop this time?