There are many people in Rome who spend their days begging alms. Many of them are homeless, I suspect! There are various enclosures around churches or near busy intersections where they can huddle for the night; I noticed seem to have parked their bedrolls and belongings for the day at a church door, phone booth or other spot that has promise. And strolling around, its clear by the smell of urine and abandoned cardboard flats and beer bottles, that some have just crashed where they could. One man in his 20s was dead asleep at a busy corner, flat out on the sidewalk at 3:30 in the afternoon. Since, especially trying to enter churches, theres usually an older lady seated by the door, begging...on behalf of her bambini...Children...even though her children might well be in theirs 30s, its impossible to escape the ask! Most wear crosses and appeal to faith. Since Jesus says in Matthew 25 that to serve the least is to serve him, and to neglect such service, neglects Jesus, himself...the experience raises all sorts of mixed emotions: as a tourist, it can be scary; or there are so many beggars that a person would be tapped out fast responding to all of them; or are they legit...one lady was stooped over at a 90 degree angle last week, and todays shes moving around upright and fine! And so I look the other way, or give a coin or two, or say no or God bless you or sorry... And those who beg have different personalities: In clerical clothes last week, I gave an old lady with a pink cup a very small coin, and in disgust she threw it back at me; I picked up and gave it to a young lady kneeling on the sidewalk silently who took it. Also in clerics, a man approached wearing a big cross; when I said no...sorry, the gist if his Italian response seemed: How can you be a priest and not help me? I met him twice...same story. (He has a point.) Today, I went back to his spot three times with intention of being generous to him, but he wasnt working on Mondays! Although, on that journey I did cross paths with a person,who, when I said: Good evening! Asked if I was a priest. ( I was in shorts, my ragged St. John School of Theology shirt and sandals, wearing a cross outside my shirt.) The person wanted confession. And so there in a narrow street, near Divine Mercy Church, in front if a funeral parlor, and next to so filled up dumpsters, the two of us celebrated Gods Mercy in the sacrament. Fitting in a way. The priests job...to take the garbage people need to dump, and haul it away, so theres room for Gods mercy. An unexpected moment of ministry and grace! And once last week, the gentle tired voice of a 30 year old man...please. Sorry I said and picked up my pace?!? At an rate, I was inspired by Mike Brennan OPraem in his post about being on Michigan Avenue in Chicago, having a similar experience. And by name....by name...he held them up in prayer. He took the time to ask their name, know their fundamental identity, and pray for them by name! Thats beautiful to me, Mike! And so armed with some money...I started to stroll around today, wanting to respond, with more, or less. But after making an offering, I told them I was Padre Timotheo, and asked their names. There were a lot of Marias...but maybe they had been hurt and didnt want to give their real name. The two guys...Victor and Nikolai...their names mean the same thing: victorious one ( I learned that from my niece, Nicoles name.)...although neither of these guys were victorious today! After they had my offering, I asked if I could take a foto? For the most part they seemed to enjoy that; and some felt obviously attended to; others appeared a little sheepish. One figured I must be an American, with that request. I didnt want to disrespect them. I wanted to be able to pray for them,and introduce them to you to do the same. Their name is also Jesus. And dont get me wrong. I looked away from many more than these, presumed they were scamming, wondered why they didnt get a job! I responded with fear, aversion, superiority plenty of times in two weeks. Maybe its that we realize that any one of us could have ended up there? And that scares us! The gospel is tough to live...even very partially, imperfectly! So in the first comment for each photo, the names of those who shared their names. Join me in sending up a prayer for all of them...all of us, Gods struggling, desperate, beloved daughters and sons...in Rome, in Chicago, in Green Bay and DePere! God bless us...EVERY one! Tim, o.praem
Posted on: Mon, 08 Sep 2014 18:18:51 +0000
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