Sent: 11/30/2001 2:13 AM
Well, today was a big day for me, as most of you know from my insistent e-mailing. It turned out to be a big day for me for other reasons than visiting the seminary, though.
After the seminary visitation, my heart was weighted with what to do and where to go. I was overjoyed by the experience. I felt alive. I felt free. And, I didn't really want to go back to work because I didn't want to be distracted from the feeling. Union was wonderful. It felt like home.
I thought about going home. Home to my apartment in
Ugh. I hate trying to waste time. I find it so difficult to do. Especially when I don't have any money. I used to waste time shopping. Monetary constraints prohibit that form of wasting time nowadays. I opted to have dinner at Deluxe Diner. I had tomato soup and a grilled cheese (which they put on sourdough bread which made the sandwich a little less desirable). Over all, it was a nice warm meal on a chilly, misty, foggy, dark night. I ate feeling a little anxiety about how I was going to spend the next 2 and 1/2 hours. God, what was I going to do. I wrote in my journal, "I hate wasting time."
I finished dinner and then remembered that
I walked up to the cathedral at 5:45p; they closed at 6:00p. Okay, I thought, here's where I can kill at least 15 minutes before I have to meet Paul. In my headphones, Jill Scott was stupendously singing, "I was blind but now I see," I walked down the center of the cathedral. Finding a seat on the front row, I started grooving with Jill, the statues of saints, and God. Tres cool.
"The Cathedral is closed." was echoed through the gothic building. I grabbed my stuff and walked towards the door. Our Catholic sisters and brothers were doing a ritualistic cross over their hearts as they backed out of the sanctuary. I smiled. I liked that. It just seemed so reverent. But not being Catholic myself, I felt a little weird doing it. Instead, I got to the door, turned around, faced the sanctuary, and bowed. Kind of a respectful, thank you for having me, God.
When I walked outside I realized just how much time I could kill looking at the cathedral's architecture. It's a pretty amazing building. The craftsmanship of the details make it like none other. If you haven't seen it, you should. =) As I was standing there, looking at the architecture, I noticed a man stumbling towards the steps that lead to the cathedral's door. Perhaps he was drunk? I wasn't sure. I looked back up at the atrium above one of the side doors. I wondered who those statues were. Why did they all look so frightened as they looked up towards heaven? Seemed wrong.
I turned around and looked out towards the street as I lit a cigarette. It was still misting, but it was warmer, and the mist felt good against my cheek. I looked to my left. That man was crawling, on his hands and knees up the wet cathedral steps on his hands and knees. That was weird. Maybe he was going to get out of the rain by curling up in one of alcoves. I started to walk away.
He made it to the alcove and before the door of the cathedral, he laid in a huge bow. I was a bow that said, "Have mercy on me, God." It was breath-taking. Powerful. Overwhelming. My mind said, he's drunk. My heart said, he's in pain. And there he was, at the top of the stairs, before the door of God in a huge bow, in pain. Again, my mind, go home. He'll be okay. Someone will take care of him. My heart, go to him.
Just today, in chapel at seminary, the scripture lesson was Matthew 25:31-45. Basically, Jesus was saying take care of everyone, just as I would want to take care of Jesus if he happened on my path. It still echoed in my mind.
I went to him. There was a light shining straight down from the center of the atrium. It was an eerie, holy light, that, in the mist, was a distinct spotlight on the broken man kneeling before God. It was such an intense moment, that I almost couldn't believe it was happening.
I asked him if he was okay, and he immediately began to cry. Gonzales is Mexican, 38 years old. I wish I could speak spanish. It would have made the night much easier. But I didn't, and I had to fight my way through the language barrier in order to tell him that God loved him and that although the cathedral was closed, God would hear his prayer anywhere, even on that step outside the door. He began to cry harder, and I felt moved to hug him. He lay there in my arms, helpless, afraid, and completely trusting of a stranger. I was glad the stranger was me.
There came rustling at the door and the Cathedral employees bolted out the door as if a whistle had been blown. They immediately took notice of the man kneeling in front of the door, sobbing. I told him that he was praying. Barely recognizing me, the lady turned to her colleagues, "What should we do with him? I guess we'll take him down to St. Luke's, and they can handle it." My soul cried in outrage at their insensitivity; however, I simply said, "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of him."
After they left, and all was silent again, Gonzales again began to weep. He wanted to crawl all the way to the alter to pray, to repent his sins. His breath was rank with alcohol. "Do you want help?" I asked him, "This is an important question, do you want help?" Through tears he said, yes. My friend, Bernard, had given me a little mini-rosary with St. Therese on the front and "Pray for Us" inscribed on the back. Knowing that this man was Catholic, I removed it from my backpack and gave it to him. He doubled over in sobs. "Thank you. Thank you." He raised his finger upwards and looked at me. He said 'God' in Spanish and then, "Thank you." Then I could contain myself no longer and began to cry too.
On the steps of
What happened?
I helped Gonzales down the stairs, and after much affirmation with the minute spanish I know, we started on a trek for the emergency room at St. Luke's Hospital just a block away. Emergency rooms are boring, so I won't go into grave detail except to say that we (and "we" means Nez and me, because she came to give ME some support - bless you Nezerly!!!!) We got him help. And when we left him with a promise to return tomorrow, he was smiling, saying, "Thank you, my friend, Thank you."
Thank God. =)
These are amazing times. God bless.
