T-7 Days. I meet Jerome

On my way home from class tonight, I saw a man walking along the side of the road near where I live.  It was obvious that he was living on the street; despite the temperatures in the 70s, he was wearing a full coat and looked like he had not shaved or showered in weeks.  He carried a backpack and had an entire container of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups sticking out of his jacket pocket.

Up to this point, I had wondered if I had done "enough" for Lent this year.  I promised myself that I would fast from any number of things; Facebook and Netflix being possibilities that I had chickened out of with my upcoming surgery.  I told myself that I would pray more, that I would go to adoration (because lately quiet times with God have seemed overwhelmingly frightening) or that I would go to more Daily Mass (I've actually gone to less).  With Holy Week quickly approaching with my surgery date, I was feeling like a pretty terrible Catholic and a poor example for aspiring leaders in the Church.

The only thing that I had succeeded in doing was keeping non-perishable food and water in my car to hand out to people on the street that I encountered.  Previously, I had been not so much of a "social justice" Catholic in the sense that I viewed such movements within the Church with suspicion.  It seemed that those who I had encountered in the movements previously did not adhere to the fullness of Catholic teaching and looked down on those of us who did as not doing enough.  Even worse, my background in training in the Military and Police had me looking at the people that went to the Church in a way that they were a threat instead of my brothers and sisters in Christ.  My heart was incredibly hardened to them.  It is only by the grace of God and allowing the Holy Spirit to take over my life that my fear has been cast out and I was willing to try something.

Since moving to Dallas in June, I have seen so many people on the streets and I was moved to do something about it.  With the winter getting so nasty with the snow and ice, I had actually seen very few. The few other times that I was able to hand something out quickly from my car, I felt totally helpless that I was only giving them a light snack to get through the next couple of hours: when I was headed home to a warm bed and a fridge full of food for myself.

This time, I pulled ahead into a parking lot, stopped, said a quick prayer and got out with food and water in hand,  ready to meet my new brother.  He was incredibly gracious and introduced himself as Jerome.  He picked up that I was a student and asked what I was studying.  When I told him that I was getting my Masters in Church Management.  Almost immediately, he started apologizing for his state in life and that he was going to start some gyms in the area as soon as he found office space.  He even gave me a number for his receptionist that would be working in one of the new office buildings that he was "scouting".  He also spoke of bacteria being planted by terrorists in 2005 to frame us all and that we pass it back and forth as they mock us.  He also started spouting off about his study of Theology and his personal interpretation of scripture.  It was clear to me that he was having paranoid delusions.

The old me would have completely discounted everything that he had to say beyond that point or would try to correct his view on reality.  The new me instead looked for common ground.  Instead of shutting down, I was able to listen. After asking a couple of gentle questions, I realized that the "terrorists" were people that were hostile to him on the street and he had good reason to view others with suspicion.  I heard the Truth of the Gospel written on his heart that the bible was full of different translations and that God has given us the free choice to chose life or sin for ourselves.  I was able to affirm what he had correct, but also speak of the Lord's Mercy because He has great justice.  That forgiveness is a gift extended to us and that by showing mercy, I turn over the wrong of sin committed against me back to God for Him to exact justice.  We exchanged goodbyes and as quickly as it started, it was over.

I don't really know how much I helped Jerome tonight with handing him some Pop Tarts and a breakfast shake.  I didn't solve his homelessness.  I didn't get him to someone who could get him on medication to bring him back to the "real world".  I know that I won't be attending his boxing gym, whenever he gets it up and running.

Jerome didn't need me to "save" him from the cross he was carrying, but rather to let him know that I saw him as equal in dignity to me.

I do know that he helped me realize that no matter how far off our brothers and sisters are, that there is always common ground in our humanity.  Winning an argument or being "right" doesn't necessarily win anything for God.  Where Jesus gets the win is when you realize that He is right in the person in front of you.

Lent really isn't about how "well" any of us do it.  It is about entering into the desert with Jesus and tested and purified through trial and doing things out of our comfort zone.  Holiness comes from making the completely radical to the completely ordinary flow of our daily living.

Unlike my previous attempts to fast from cursing, I am sure that this Lenten practice is going to stay with me far into the Easter season and maybe the rest of my life.