Early Morning Under Claiborne Overpass

A new day has arrived under the Claiborne Overpass. Tired bodies are sprawled on the cement. Brother Todd and I split up to walk among our Brothers and Sisters to bring them blessing bags. Some are awake but most are lying sleeping in fetal position. Many have no tent and simply use the cement as their sleeping mat. Their heads are in what appears to be very uncomfortable positions as the cement is their pillow.

Today as I walked prayerfully from one person to another and as I write this note I tearfully saw the baby Jesus in each one of these beloved people. Every single one of them were brought into this world as naked little babies and now as Jesus did bravely exist in conditions of emotional and physical discomfort. We may ask “Why Lord?”.

Today once again I was touched by the Hand of God as I saw Her face in the smiles of the waking faces of the poor who we humbly serve. Many whispered softly from their cement mat and said “Thank You”. Another gentleman extended his fist and dapped Brother Todd and myself and said “Thank You”. I saw Jesus and I wept.

Please pray and serve the poor and homeless with gentleness and humility. It is the path to knowing and experiencing the grace and mercy of God.

Brother Donald

Musings in ministry with the unsheltered

Ministry to our Brothers and Sisters who are seeking Food Assistance or are unsheltered has been a gift from God. This Ministry has helped me realize that by God’s Grace we can all learn about humility and become true servants of God. As we allow ourselves to realize that the dear people we serve are all made in the image of God, respect of one’s dignity becomes a natural behavior. This respect brought about by humility starts showing its lovely face in all our interactions with God’s people. I remain thankful for my call to be a Franciscan and learning to live out the Gospel of Jesus.

Br. Donald

Growing Together

Upon return from our last Mission Trip to Puerto Rico, we had a debriefing session where we processed our feelings and impressions of the trip and the things that impacted us the most.  Ironically, it was not the amount of "work" we got done that left the most impact, although it was substantial.  But, it was more about the relationships we developed while there and how we were personally transformed by the experience.  It was a joy to see others transformed and for me to be changed as well.  The most moving moment for me was when I prayed Evening Prayer with a priest from the Diocese of Puerto Rico in Spanish.  I don't know much Spanish, so it was a struggle for me.  But I felt the Holy Spirit moving between us and within us at that moment. 

Br. David

A sacred calling

Many people say that religious life is a sacred vocation. I'm usually "on guard" against those affirmations that might hint any kind of superior, or higher, or more perfect path of following Christ to consecrated women and men. I deeply believe that a calling to religious life is just that, another calling among many others in the church, all equal. Particularly I, that live in a contemporary expression of this life and that consequently don't share property with others or live under required celibacy.  Nonetheless, this year has proved me that there's some kind of sacredness to this calling.

Along this year I had the gift and privilege of walking pastorally in a very special way with two members of my congregation. It was the first Thursday of Lent and we had gathered to pray Compline at the church. With a cracked voice she told me that, although maybe with at least 40 years of life to go still, she had been diagnosed with a terminal cancer and that she would die in less than a year, maybe just a couple months. Her hands were shaking, fear filled her. God made nobody else show that evening and we prayed together, we cried together, we pledged to walk together this path through weekly Communion and prayer, and to live life to the fullest, as long as God wanted us to. Weeks went along, and as her body was becoming thinner and feebler, her spirit was growing upward and becoming stronger. At the end of her road, there she was, standing strong like a Ceiba. She was only worried about the things that still needed to be done in our small church plant: the Sunday School, our dreamed after school program, raising of new leadership. Completely detached from the world, she was grateful for her life, for her family, happy to see them grow and blossom, at peace with walking deeper in the communion of saints.

My other parishioner had been fighting cancer for two years. The fight had been long, she was also young. She had many questions, she wasn't sure why all this was happening to her, but she persisted. She held on to her faith as her raft in the middle of the ocean. Together we would break bread every week, and we would pray the apostle's prayer: Lord, I believe, but increase my faith! I could see how that hospital bed was the Altar she was offering her life from, trying to keep the family united, taking care of her children, forgiving her husband, all this while walking in the darkness, seeking the light.

In all this I was in first row, as a silent witness of their faith, their growth, their struggles. As friend walking with them. As a shoulder to rest when they were tired or to cry when was needed. It was mostly a ministry of being present. There are not many words you can say to somebody in this situation-  but Jesus does -and Jesus shows up at Communion, both in the sacrament and in the church gathered.  And I was there to witness it.

Months after these events I'm still in awe. Who am I to be called into these sacred moments? How can I be of help?  As a religious and Lay Eucharistic Minister I'm called to be the church in these places. Not by my wisdom, or my words, but by being a prayerful compassionate presence. Offering a human wounded heart to walk with them and the gift of the Blessed Sacrament as a viaticum (food for the way) for those in need.

If there's any sacredness to this vocation this is it: the immeasurable gift of being allowed to be see the grace of God act powerfully in people's lives and offer my own broken heart as a companion for the way, wherever the Lord may take us.

Br. Luis