Jesus visited us in church yesterday and we mistook him for a beggar
Written by: Uta Sievers
I tried not to look because mass was in full course. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him only when people started to stare and shuffle: probably a foreigner, as they call them here in Italy, of unidentifyable southern European complexion. A beggar. A nuisance on a Sunday morning – we are here to pray after all! He started walking around. Wrinkled face but not a streak of gray in the brown hair under his hat. A heavy bag over his shoulder.
Two people blocked his entry (gently) to the altar room, so he walked around the back, holding out his little plastic cup, asking (gently) for some coins. People gently talked to him, smiled at him. He didn’t seem to understand Italian.
Still trying not to stare, I assumed he was gone when I didn’t see him at the sign of peace, but probably he was busy shaking hands somewhere. We are a welcoming community, after all. During communion, he walked aimlessly up and around the altar, then around the back of the pews. As far as I could see, a total of four people tried to talk him out of the church during the 20 minutes he was with us. One of them eventually convinced him, walked him to the door and off he went.
After mass, it turned out that a number of people I talked to were convinced that no action would have been necessary. I would guess there were probably about thirty people (we are a small congregation) who were too shy to ask him to take a seat, warm his hands, invite him to take part in the mass. The four sensible ones did what seemed best for the community, on our behalf.
Here is how I want to look at it: Jesus came to visit us in church yesterday to check in on us. Some of us mistook him for a beggar and he ended up being gently ushered out. I assume he got nailed to some cross around the corner from the church, or, given the raising xenophobia in Italy, in any case will be eventually. Some cross or other.
“All it takes for evil to flourish is for good men (and women) to do nothing.”
Will I stand up next time? Will I stand by the beggar and turn my back to my sensible friends? All I can do is hope that the Gospel message will eventually sink in, that I will eventually act on it. It’s a long process.
Photo: “Begger Outside a Church in Rome” by christopher.woo from Flickr (Used under Creative Commons license)
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