My continued thanks to Allison Gingras and Elizabeth Riordan for inviting Catholic bloggers re-post their favorite articles on It’s "Worth Revisiting” Wednesdays!
Go there now (and every Wednesday) and let these authors bless and challenge you in your Faith journey.
During the rest of the week, visit Allison at Reconciled To You and Elizabeth at Theology Is A Verb.
I WANT TO APOLOGIZE for the link I posted last week. I deleted it accidentally and could not retrieve it. Consequently most of you were unable to read the post.
After praying to St. Anthony for the past week, he allowed me to find a copy yesterday. I am re-posting it below or if you prefer as a podcast here. I hope you find it worthy of your time.
Who Was That Man?
(Originally posted Mach 3, 2014)
(Image Source: Wikimedia Commons) |
I’ve
walked these few blocks countless times over the past twelve years during my
visits to see my ailing sister. Although I have seen homeless individuals
soliciting money many times, I had never seen anyone quite like the gentleman I
saw this day as I headed toward confession.
There
he was sitting with folded legs on the cold dirty icy cement sidewalk in front
of the Catholic Church I was about to enter - sitting right next to the little
tree where neighborhood animals defecate and urinate. His presence there caught
me my surprise and made me uncomfortable.
He
had a thick white beard. He wore several layers of dirty clothing hoping I am
sure to stave off the bitter cold. He just sat there staring at the concrete
slab and passing feet that rushed past him, holding the smallest of Dixie cups in his outstretched hand - his head bowed down
conveying a sense of shame and utter despair. The paltry size of his cup
suggested he was not anticipating any sizable donations from the hundreds that
would pass him by. In the few moments I watched him, no one stopped. No
one said anything to him. No one put any money in his cup. No one seemed to
care.
Who was this man?
The
cynics who passed him by probably felt he was an alcoholic or addicted bum
looking for money to get drunk or high. No way would they be enablers by
throwing a few coins his way.
Others
perhaps believed he was just a lazy man unwilling to work for food and thereby
not deserving of their assistance.
Maybe
he was one of those professional “homeless” one sometimes reads about who
actually rake in a nice chump of change. If he was, parking himself right in
front of a Catholic Church was a stroke of marketing genius – really how could
Catholics entering and leaving Church ignore a man in such obvious need? But
they did, without exception.
Perhaps
he was there conducting his own personal “undercover” research, feigning to be
in need in order to assess how many Catholics authentically live out their
faith and follow God’s command to be generous and willing alms givers.
Or
maybe, just maybe, he was legitimately and desperately in need, through no
fault of his own, unable to feed himself or find safe shelter, ashamed to or
unable to access programs that might be able to help him.
Whomever
he was no one cared enough to stop.
But
what if He was actually Jesus disguised as an unkempt and despairing beggar and
nearly everyone passed Him by?
Our
Lord meant it when He said: “I assure you, as often as you did it for one of my
least brothers, you did it for me…as often as you neglected to do it to one of
these least ones, you neglected to do it to me.”
Let us remember that we should not pick and choose between those we feel
worthy of our help. For if the one we neglect is the Jesus we profess to love,
what could we possibly tell Him when He asks us why we did not stop and help?
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