Christ came to chat

July 10, 2007 - Tuesday


Today was hot and humid, and I couldn't wait to close the shop and get home. I was just saying goodnight to a friend when a homeless man I have gotten to know well came walking into our store. Only recently our local business owners had a meeting with local police to discuss the problem of the local homeless who hang out near the stores, and in some cases frighten people off. The discussion was about what to do about the problem.

When BT walked into the shop tonight I was actually glad to see him. He had not been around in a few weeks, and when he's gone that long I figure he's in the hospital or jail, or maybe worse. I admit, I worry about him. Tonight he was coming back from a stay in the hospital.

Often enough when he comes, I can smell the beer breath, and tell him to watch his step because I'm not anxious to clean up any mess he may make if he bumps into counters and knocks items down. In fact, he has never made any such mess. Tonight I noticed his breath, but it was not more than one beer at the time. I come from a family that can easily recognize not just beer, but many of the other options, and we have a good idea by the look of a person about how many and what kind of intake they've had!

Tonight I gave him no warning, but instead I greeted him, happy to see he was not in jail... and was still alive. I was getting ready to close, and honestly didn't feel like chatting, but I did want to see how he was and where he'd been. We started talking and catching up. If BT were sober long enough, he could write an interesting autobiography. But he does love his beer, as he tells me often.

Somehow we got to talking, as usual about God, and forgiveness, and BT's choices, and the choices that are still before him. I admit, when we talk, some of my NYC street speech comes boiling to the top. I have discovered I am bilingual. I can talk to both sober and drunk speakers. He was rather shocked, because he said priests don't talk that way. I told him to be happy I was talking turkey to him, and wasn't Jesus Christ, or I'd beat him with a whip--to get his attention. BT is quite bright. He immediately got the reference.

Our chat led into some very deep talk of God, mercy, judgement, and I found myself thinking how much the world was missing with BT hiding his light under a bushel, or a glass. I told him so. I told him how intelligent he is, and that it was obvious to me, and that he was given this gift to use. We talked about that, in his language. He laughed a lot because he was amazed how fluent I am.

I was very aware the we were not there talking alone. Where two or more gather we know there is a Third. It's easy to think that I might have some words of wisdom for BT, afterall, I'm a priest. Ha! Don't ever let that fool ya! BT teaches me more about humility than I could ever teach him. He listens, he shares, he cries, he prays, and yes, he says he can't give up the beer.

I think BT is right. Alone he cannot. He knows he needs Christ's help. He asked me to pray that he could. He knew I was seeing his potential and he told me the things he had enjoyed in life, before he took this real nose dive and ended homeless. He couldn't see himself getting out of this rut. But he told me he did a lot of thinking and crying at night when he talks with Christ. So, when he and Christ walked out that door, after kissing my hand like a knight, and thanking me for taking time to talk when stopped in, I told him to visit whenever he wanted because we really have great talks.

Some locals have said there is nothing we can do for these homeless who seem to have no goals. I wonder. Even if we can do nothing, we know Christ can. Tonight, when Christ and BT came to chat, I realized that even more clearly.

At the end of the day, we will be judged on Charity. God have mercy on me.