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Brother can you spare a dime

Monday, February 23, 2015

Matthew 25:34-40
Jesus said, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.

"Then the righteous will answer him and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you ...' and the king will say to them in reply, 'Whatever you did for one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did for me.' "


At a used book store I picked up a collection of photographs taken in cities around the country. Men and women overdressed in summer, and without enough clothes in winter. Children living in the back seat of a car. Homeless folks.

While I was getting gas a block away from home, I watched a man pedal his bicycle through thin snow with a HUGE bag of aluminum cans.

I often think homeless people look scary. Hooded eyes, sad faces. I know they carry emotional, physical, spiritual and mental baggage every day, every step they take.

Driving through Chicago yesterday in nearly subzero temperatures, I caught quick glimpses of subway platforms. I saw thin men in dark coats and dark jeans, stomping away the cold as they waited for the train. Hands in their pockets. They seemed a little scary, too.

A young man walks by our house nearly every day. Usually he is talking to himself. Sometimes he dances, or skips. He is always alone.

At a convenient care office last week I was tending to a relatively minor skin ailment. The waiting room was full. A heavy man in a wheelchair, tended by a gray woman about 70 years old. Thin coat. Silent. Turned into themselves. Across the room a mom with several rowdy children.

Yesterday afternoon I lit a candle in the chapel where I'm attending a retreat. I put my $3 in the candle collection box and prayed a few minutes at the kneeling bench. I watched the people around me. This church is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I've heard that many Filipinos and Vietnamese people come here. Others, and there were many, in church were quiet, reverent, praying too. I wonder what their lives are like.

Always I wonder ... what their lives are like. Jesus, where do you live? When is it that I encounter you? Early last week I passed the guy on the corner whose sign said, "God bless. Can you spare some money to help my family?" Not this time.

I can't any longer say, "I gave at the office." Sometimes I do stop and give people some money. It feels good. Jesus, is that you?

Think about your own last week of encounters with Jesus? For you, who are the least of these, your brothers and your sisters?

Lord, free my mind from fear and preconception. Do not let me swell with pride or succumb to ennui, or give up in self-righteousness because "the poor we will always have with us." Open my mind, my heart, my pocketbook, and my schedule. Teach me your ways, Lord. You are right here with us. You will be with us always.



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