Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” Mark 10:42-44

Someone asked me recently if our ministry with the homeless youth was difficult. Well, the answer is a “Yes” and “No”. The part which most people think is difficult is usually not. Many imagine that our teens would be closed and hostile. In reality, they are very open, even those who are deeply involved in crime. It is a rarity to meet someone who is completely hardened and hostile in the streets. Even the most seasoned criminal is open to us. Of course, there is the violence. It is always looming around the corner but it doesn’t occur as often as one expects. Nevertheless, the fact that the possibility is greater here than elsewhere creates a certain stress. However, we, human beings, have great capacity to adapt. It doesn’t mean that we are accustomed to scenes of violence. Our children and teens are not accustomed to it. It disturbs them too. We just adapt to this reality and become more aware of its threatening presence. It is not difficult but it is not easy either.

Perhaps the most difficult part of our ministry is not easy to identity. With so many immediate needs present among the homeless children, it is hard to discern the real obstacle between us. Nevertheless, the more time we spend with the children and teens, the more we become aware of this distance between us and the children. The reality is that we are from two completely different worlds and it is almost impossible to reconcile them.

We have many things in common with the homeless adults. Most of them shared the same childhood experiences as us. They grew up in a home. It may have been dysfunctional but the structure was there. Most of them once held regular jobs and participated in the life of society. They developed their identity as individuals within the same framework as we did. Then something happened tondeconstruct their whole existence and they became homeless. Many say is their addiction but this is just the symptom, not the cause. Nevertheless, I can easily communicate with the homeless adults when they are not drunk of course. We share the same vocabulary and references. The adults and I derived our understanding of reality from similar foundations. This is not the case with our children and teens.

The homeless children’s life began with a rejection, not acceptance. They were rejected in some shape or form by their families. They felt this rejection in such a strong way that prompted them to abandon their families. Something which goes against the nature of your average child. Usually, children feel secure when they are close to their family. Our children had to distance themselves from their family in order to be safe. Unlike us, they could not construct their personal identity in a structured environment. They were forced to build it among people who are rejected and invisible to society. They had to gather up “scraps” here and there in order to discover their space in this world whereas most of us had a path designed for us to pursue. Our children and teens were given the leftovers and there wasn’t much. However, despite all of this, most of them have done an incredible job.

As a result, we have two different ways of looking at life and solving the problems confronting us.
The way we see a solution to a problem may not be necessarily obvious to the homeless children and teens. Most importantly, they may not be convinced these solutions would work for them. The things we have as priorities may not hold the same weight for them. Consequently, we may judge them as being inapt or clueless about life. However, their life experiences have taught them to employ different tools to confront their problems.
Most people, when they hear of homeless children and teens, think that they should brought to a shelter or an orphanage. We think they should not be alone without any adult guidance. There are many groups, both religious and non-religious, who operated on this principle and have opened up shelters. None of our children and teens go to these places. The idea of being in a closed place surrounded by adults reminds them of the trauma they experienced. Felipe lived in the streets since he was eight. He escaped from a household of violence. In the streets, he found peace among the other children. They became his refuge. The people who abused him in the streets were the police and other adults. These only served to reinforce his idea of authority. The words of Jesus from the above gospel text is good news to these children and teens. They don’t want God to be like the authoritative figures in their lives. It appears as if Jesus understood and spoke the language of our teens.

Personally, I find these words of Jesus to be tough. It is not that I want to be a tyrant and enforce my views upon our children. None of us desire to be tyrants. Instead I would rather be the nice guy who keeps insisting on telling the kids what is best for their lives. In reality, the ways of this world are deeply rooted in us. Our idea of being a servant still contains an authoritative tone. Jesus had a different approach. In the gospels, whenever an ill or physically disabled person was brought to Jesus, He always asked them what they wanted. Sometimes I thought that it was obvious. Nevertheless, Jesus never assumed that he knew what people needed. He allowed the people to inform him of their needs. Then He acted upon their request and refrained from giving them tips to avoid future mishaps. Maybe in one or two occasions He told the people not to sin anymore. They were quite specific situations. In general, Jesus refrained from imposing His ideas. Instead He was a servant who listened to those whom He served.

There are days when I am in the streets and I feel completely useless. Usually it is when nothing good nor bad happens; just a normal day in the streets among the homeless. I have normal conversations and feel a little unsettled in my spirit. I sense an internal pressure to do something more concrete. It was the way I was taught; we always have to be doing something to prove our worth. I was talking to Bruno about something uninteresting and then he mentioned something about Felipe. It has been a couple of weeks since I have seen him. We planned to meet a week ago but the rain postponed it. Bruno said that Felipe was asking about me. Then he decided to be direct. “You should go and see him, he misses you!” It is not that I have been avoiding him. We stay in the streets later now and I get a little tired to go over to Felipe’s house. I promised I would go the next day. Just before I left, Bruno asked me when I was coming to see him again. He always asks me this question. Not just him, I realized that the other children and teens do the same. I heard this question so many times but I never paid attention to it. They were communicating to me what is most important to them while I was fussing over being useless.

A servant listens to those whom one serves. Jesus wants us to be servants. This is good news in a world where no one listens to anyone. Everyone thinks that they know what the other should do or say. Everyone thinks that they know what needs to be done in order for things to get better. Jesus does not want His disciples to be like everyone. He wants us to be different. It is not easy to be different. I realized that Jesus does not want me to be telling our children and teens how to be successful in this life. This is not their priority. They want something else. They want someone to love them despite the fact that we might be from two different worlds. They want to us to just enjoy them. I decided that I was going to listen to Jesus and learn to be a servant who enjoys the people God has put in our lives. Felipe and Bruno and the other teens just enjoy us for being there. They don’t expect anything from us beside this. For them, knowing someone loves them is important for them to have the courage to move forward. They don’t need me to make life easy for them. They just want me to love them. A good servant listens.

Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.” Mark 10:29-30

He was already unconscious when we arrived. It must have just happened. The children and teens were standing around him looking a little helpless. Some of the social workers were on their phones. I assumed that they were calling for emergency services. I was trying to figure out the identity of the young man. From the side, he looked like Felipe. He was about the same age. Thankfully, I could be sure that he wasn’t him. Felipe is with his family in a home far away from all these things which were once part of his life. I caught a glimpse of his face, his lips were bluish and he was motionless. In their desperate attempt to do something, one of the teens pleaded with him to open his eyes. I feared the worst. From experience, we knew the ambulance would take a while to arrive. A couple of kids were proactive and ran to the fire station across the street to get help. I saw the firefighters approaching. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry and much less enthused. Only on TV and in the movies do we see paramedics rushing to the scene to rescue the victim. In my experiences, most of the time they are like these firefighters approaching the young man. They just confirmed what we knew instinctively. They went through the motions of trying to revive him. It wasn’t very convincing. The ambulance came sooner than expected. They didn’t do anything except put the young man on the stretcher. From the way they acted everyone knew that it was too late. I asked the children and teens whether they knew his name. No one knew his name. He had been in the streets for a while. He ran away to the streets from an orphanage a few years ago and then his sister tried to take him in. He managed to stay with her for a few years. Recently he came back to the streets and now he is gone. No one knew his name. It was apparent that his death did not affect them that much. No one seemed to be moved by it. He was even an invisible person among the invisible people. As things slowly calmed down, we noticed Camila standing among the crowd. She did not recognize us at first because of our masks. Then she greeted us with her characteristic smile. It has been more than two years since we last saw her.

I remember clearly our last conversation. We ran into her by chance. She was very pregnant then. She was concerned about living conditions. She wanted a safe place for her child. She was a squatter in an abandoned mansion near where we live. She did not like her situation and was hoping to find a job and eventually rent a place. She went back to school and was doing everything possible to improve herself. It wasn’t easy. The father of her child comes from a large family of orphans who spent their whole life homeless. However, like Camila, he was also making every effort to better his life. We never met him but we know some of his sisters. Before we said goodbye, we tried to give her a small gift. She refused to accept it. She did not want money from us because for her, we had a different kind of relationship. She receives charity from strangers but not us. I had to explain to her that it was customary to give gifts to an expectant mother. Since we weren’t able to buy her any gifts, she should use the money to buy something herself and the baby. Finally, she agreed and accepted our gift. It is strange that we hardly had any contact with Camila before and yet she has a special place in her heart for us. In reality, modesty apart, we don’t deserve this place. I will explain why.

We met her only for a brief moment eight years ago. She was fifteen then. At the time, we were trying to reach a group of hostile and unfriendly teens and children. They were steeped in a life of crime and practically closed to anyone outside their circle. Sometimes we would have to endure hours being ignored by them. Many times I wondered whether we were wasting our time with this group. Camila was part of this group. When we met her, she had escaped from the juvenile detention center. Well, not exactly escaped. She was given a weekend pass and she decided not to return. We spoke for less than ten minutes and that was it. Eventually, she was caught and brought back to the detention center. We did not see for at least three years until one day we saw this tall elegant girl come to us and give us a hug. She had grown and matured. She has paid for all her crimes which were mainly petty crimes. She told us that she was getting all her documents and was going to register to go to school. She promised herself that she was going to avoid all criminal activities. Then she hugged us and thanked us for all our help and concern. We told her that she was confusing us with someone else because we hardly did anything. She disagreed.

Over the years we ran into her several times and each time, we saw her making some progress. At one time, she had a part time job but unfortunately, the business did not do well. On other occasion, she was washing cars at stoplights to earn some money. She always said that she was determined not to follow in the footsteps of her mother or the rest of her family. We never had the chance to ask about her family. Apparently, she couldn’t depend on them in this world. She was an orphan.

Seeing her smiling face brought some light after this tragic scene. She said that she wanted to introduce us to someone special. She called out for Gael and a healthy looking two year old came running up to her. He was a handful, she said. She was constantly on the lookout for him as she talked with us. She was alone again. Unfortunately, the child’s father decided to go back to a life of crime. She would not have any of it. She was raising Gael as well as her sister’s son on her own. Her sister is a drug addict and Camila wasn’t going to let her nephew be exposed to that lifestyle. Things have been hard for her and now she was going to lose her place where she was a squatter. She has to find a new place to live immediately. We told her that we could help with her rent if she found a place. She thanked us but it was apparent that she wasn’t going to ask for our help. In her mind, we were for there for her for different reasons. Maybe she did not want us to think that she was trying get money out of us. Maybe she did not want money to change the nature of our relationship.

Camila turned 23 a week ago. We have been thinking a lot about her. We got in touch with Camila and I asked how she was doing for housing. She said that she found a tiny room for rent. She managed to find money to pay the first month’s rent which was absurd for the space. However, she did not have money to get a truck to move her stuff. She was carrying things bit by bit to her new place. We offered to help her with the move. She accepted because she was getting a little desperate.

I met her in front of a church near our house. The name of the church is quite symbolic. It is called the Parish of the Consolation. Our neighborhood bears the name. Camila moved closed to our neighborhood. Incidentally, it is the same place where we meet Felipe since he left the streets. Now we are meeting Camila here. I had some time to ask about her family. Her mother’s passing led her to the streets. She never knew her father and all her older brothers and sisters are drug addicts. She is truly an orphan in this world. Thankfully, our Lord consoles those who are orphans in this world. We too are orphans in this city. We have no relatives nor children. Camila and Felipe and all the rest of the children and teens have filled that void in our lives. We talked for a while and Camila left knowing that she does not have to be alone in this world. I left thinking that God has given us another family member.

“For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” Mark 9:49-50

Ⅰ

There appears to be more homeless people in wheelchairs now. Most of them are amputees. Maybe they have always been around and only now I am beginning to notice them. This is the problem with invisible people. They live in the shadows and we need to have our eyes and ears opened in order to notice their presence. This time, it was a man maybe a few years younger than me. He gestured with his hands for me to come over. It was strange because he really acted like he knew me. This did not happen in the area where we work with the children. It was in front of a grocery store in my neighborhood. I have never seen this man before. I instinctively dug into my pockets to make sure that I had something to give to him. I just assumed that he was going to ask for some change. I am guilty of having preconceived ideas. However, before I could do or say anything, he asked, “Do you have a stove at home?” It was definitely not what I expected to hear. It was such a random question that I wasn’t sure how to answer him. I was trying to figure the motive behind the question. Did he want me to donate a stove? That’s completely absurd but the thought did cross my mind. My reaction must have amused him. He quickly explained that someone had given him a packet of fresh corn on the cob and he wanted to give it to me. He did not have the means to cook it as he slept in a tent in a square nearby. He was holding onto to it so that he could give to someone like me. There were tons of people passing by and I wondered why he thought I was the best candidate. I asked how does he get his sustenance. He replied that he usually eats in a cheap restaurant that serves food for under a couple of dollars. It is run by the city. There used be an abundance of these restaurants. Unfortunately, most of them were closed recently and only a small handful remain. I offered to pay for his meal and even something more. He smiled and said, “Today I want to give you something and I wasn’t expecting anything in return.” I assured him that he has given something very special.

Ⅱ

This happened sometime back, not too long ago, during the worse period of the pandemic. Most of the restaurants were closed and there were hardly people in the center of the city where the homeless slept. Consequently, their food source became scarce. We met with Kawanna and Erica to help them buy some groceries. The children and teens were cooking over makeshift kerosene stove. The whole process was quite complicated for the teens and some of them gave up sniffing paint thinner so that they could focus on making food for everyone. Only some did this and Kawanna and Erica were two of them. We were talking when a homeless man stood close by trying desperately to get our attention. Again, I thought that he wanted some financial aid. I acknowledged his presence and told him that I would talk with him after the girls were gone. However, he insisted on speaking to all of us. He was very polite about it. He apologized profusely for interrupting and wanted to know if we would be offended if he gave us some things. He had a bag full of groceries. He told us that people have been giving him canned food and packages. Since he has no means of cooking them, he has been keeping them so that he could share it with someone else. He thought that we were the best candidates. The girls happily accepted them. Then he got excited and went back to his tent and brought out several packages of cooked food. He told us that he hasn’t touched any of them. He wanted to us to know everything was clean. Someone gave it him but he has already had his meal. He wanted us to take it and maybe give it to someone who really needs it. I had a feeling if we had remained that he would have even offered his tent. He was delighted to be able to share something he received. He thanked us and went back to his tent.

Ⅲ

This happened before the pandemic. We were sitting in our usual place where we meet the children and teens. The area is tourist attraction too because of the Cathedral, majestic in the middle of the square. At the same time, it is a place for the down and out to pass their day. Besides the homeless, there are criminals who sit and wait for their next unsuspecting prey. It is not a good place to take selfies but people do anyway and end up losing everything in the process. There are hundreds of people who transit through this area and most of them don’t like to delay too much except for the imprudent tourists. A woman was passing through, taking all the necessary precautions. She was obviously not comfortable here. To make things worse a homeless man started yelling at her. He was trying to get her attention. She hastened her steps to get out of the area as soon as possible. Finally, the man ran after her. It was interesting that hardly anybody paid attention to this scene. Maybe because the homeless man was part of the invisible group and no one really pays attention to them in this area. He caught up to her and gently tapped on her shoulder. You can imagine her reaction. She must have thought that she was the next victim of a robbery but instead he handed something to her. It was her wallet. She had dropped it in her hurry to get to wherever she was going. From her reaction, it was obvious that she had much to lose if he had not found her wallet. We could make out that he was explaining to her where she dropped it. She was so grateful that she wanted to give him some money. The man refused anything from her. He turned around and went back to his usual place where he sits. He did not do it for money even though he did not have any. No doubt he will get his money elsewhere but this little thing he did, he didn’t want to be tainted with an ulterior motive. It was his gift to this woman. No one saw what he had done. He didn’t care. He was invisible to the world. However, we were blessed to have witnessed this whole scene.

I don’t know the names of these homeless men. It doesn’t matter. They are part of me. I will carry them with me wherever I am. Their simple actions gave me joy in a world becoming bleaker by the minute. We feel a sense of despair with the growing chaos and hatred which seems to take over the hearts and minds of many. However, I walk among people who have lost everything. The man in the wheelchair has even lost parts of his body. Despite all deprivation, they are still able to bring joy and hope to me. Their simple gestures of kindness and generosity reveal that even though life might be harsh to them, they are still able to keep their saltiness. Watching their simple way of showing that they care for their neighbor helps me not to lose my saltiness. It helps me believe that despite all the negative things we hear and see in this world there is still enough salt present to make our lives beautiful. Love can and will persevere through all this chaos and hatred because nothing can take away the love of God in our hearts, unless we choose to focus on the dire situations of life. These three men who have lost everything have shown me that no matter what life dishes out to us, we can still bear testimony to God’s enduring love. I believe this is what it means to be salt of the world.

For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels. Mark 8:36-38

There is a hideous scar where her right arm used to be. I am not sure how she lost it. If I were to guess, I think it could have been in an accident. Her arm wasn’t only thing she lost. She has lost control of her legs have too. She gets around with the aid of a wheelchair. Unfortunately, her wheelchair looks like something that should have been discarded decades ago. In spite of everything, she manages to get around quite effectively using just her left arm. Her face tells a story of hardship and suffering. She almost looks unfriendly and to a certain extent intimidating. One can imagine that she was once a proud independent person and now she resents begging in order to survive. Her overall physical presence makes people uncomfortable. Everything we want to hide of our human frailty is exposed in her. Most people don’t know how to respond to her but one thing is for sure; she doesn’t want anyone’s pity. She just wants money to pay for next meal and maybe little something to make her harsh life endurable. Mary felt drawn to her. She asked for her name once. I am not sure if she is used to someone wanting to know her name. It’s Vania.

It just got done raining. The children had taken shelter from the rain and I was waiting outside for them. I was observing Vania as she went around asking for money. She begs aggressively. It is the only way she can assert her presence. I put my hand in my pocket to find something for her. I did not want to give her loose change. That would seem like an afterthought. Notes seem to have some sort of intentionality. I found a few dollars. It wasn’t much. I waited for the right opportunity. I wanted to give it to her before she had the chance to ask from me. I don’t know why I thought this was important. Maybe I wanted her to know that she didn’t need to ask. I placed the money in her hand. She looked up and gestured for me to come closer. She wanted to say something in my ear. She was wearing a mask and wasn’t sure if I could hear her clearly through it. She whispered, “God bless you, my friend.” I could see through her mask that she smiled. It almost erased all the traces of hardship and bitterness. Then she asked me if I could help her get across the street. It was uphill and she couldn’t do it on her own. I gladly did it. She asked if I lived nearby. She commented that she noticed me many times talking with the teens. I told her that I lived in the center but a little ways from where we were. She was just curious. A old man with a kind face walked by and she decided to ask him for money. I left her to do her thing. She does what she needs to do in order to survive in this world. Even though we didn’t talk much, I felt something special happened. Obviously, I have given to people begging before. It has always been a pleasant exchange. However, this time I felt that something sacred has occurred. I think Vania had given me an opportunity to meet Jesus today. After all He did say in His words,

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Matthew 25:40

No doubt some might think that I am referring to the gratifying sensation we feel in our heart whenever we help someone. This is a good and pleasant feeling which reminds us that doing something good is good itself. There is very little that needs to be said about this feeling. However, I am talking about something else. It was the fact that she noticed my presence.

As a regular human being, I share the desire to be noticed. We are social creatures. The more we get noticed, the more we feel affirmed as individuals. Everyone does all kinds of things to stand out even those who claim not to care about gaining the attention of others. We desire to belong to some group. In some cases, we are willing to do strange and detrimental things just to be noticed and affirmed by a certain crowd.

All of us do this. It is almost inevitable. We want to gain the whole world if possible. Jesus warns us that not only is this not going to satisfy our soul, it will destroy us as individuals. This idea is not only present in the gospels, there is a consensus in almost all the great wisdom traditions of the world. Even in the Old Testament we heard the Preacher who appeared to have everything in life say, “All is vanity!” In the end, gaining the whole world does absolutely nothing to fulfill the emptiness of our souls. It is the great dilemma we face as humans. We want the world to acknowledge our presence and yet it cannot give us what we truly need. Even then, it doesn’t stop us from trying to gain the whole world because we are also part of this adulterous and sinful generation. We persist on going the wrong direction despite everything.

These are harsh words that Jesus used to describe the world and they are quite precise. “Adulterous” reveals how easily we betray our own convictions just to gain recognition or even have our vain aspirations affirmed. “Sinful” because we are all missing the mark. Looking for significance in the wrong things. Jesus is not one of those people who criticize everything that is wrong without giving us a solution. Unfortunately, He knows that his solution won’t be satisfactory for many. He tells us the answer in a negative manner.

Apparently, Jesus believes that many would be ashamed to acknowledge His presence. It is possible that His presence might not be savory for the values of this world. He is not going to be mingling with those who gain the approval of this world. His presence is with those like Vania whose life seems to be the opposite of everything the world deems as successful. It is not saying that being successful is something wrong. However, it is a grave error to think that being successful in this world is synonymous with being blessed. There are many who gain the whole world but still fail drastically to see Jesus present in a real way in their midst.

There are many people who have said to me, “God bless you!” Most of the time it is meaningless. It always felt like another generic way of expressing gratitude without much commitment. However, when I heard Vania saying it to me, it touched my soul. I felt truly blessed. The whole exchange was sacramental. Jesus was present but in a way we cannot describe. Not just for me but I believe it was true even for Vania.

Some time ago, before this Pandemic, Mary and I were talking with the children when a homeless woman approached us. She wanted to let us know that they were giving out food around the corner. It was obvious that she mistook us for being homeless. We politely thanked her. As she left, we thought to ourselves maybe we should rethink about the way we dress. We told the story to our friends and had a good laugh over it. However, a friend who is no longer with us pointed out something important. His unfortunate passing has made his observation even more valuable now. He said that this was good thing because it meant that they don’t see a distinction between us and them. In other words, we have gained a place among them. Maybe it is not a space that is heavily disputed in our society. In my life, I tried to carve out a space in many groups. I was successful in some attempts and not so in others. However, I was never satisfied in any of them. Now, we are here without any intention of belonging to any group and, all the sudden, we are given a place. We are recognized by people who the world treats as invisible. We became visible to the invisible people.
Somehow it feels special. It feels we received a gift from God. It feels like I finally belong. Vania is right. I am truly blessed.

Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged Jesus to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” Mark 7:26-29

This is arguably one of my favorite stories in the gospels. It is mainly because of the words of her answer. I prayed them for many years.

“We do not presume to come to this Thy Table, o merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness but in thy manifold and great mercies. We be not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table, But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy….”

Readers from the Anglican tradition might know this prayer or even automatically recite it in its completion. Unfortunately, some of the same tradition may have never heard it. However, I am not going to lament over it in this post, maybe some other time but not today. Because of this prayer I always paid special attention to this story. It has helped transform her story into my story. I guess good liturgical prayers have the power to do that.

Over the past few weeks, I have been becoming more and more aware of the immense gap between the children and us. It is strange that this reality is sinking in now after more than eight years of ministering to them. Personally, I think it is because they are becoming more precious to us. During the time of the pandemic, we have been isolated from our friends and the church. Our main contact with the world was through the children. Even though I wasn’t able to see all of them at the same time, I was in contact with them constantly. They became our lifeline during this time. Consequently, our relationship grew and so did our love for each other. Naturally, we want the best for those whom we love. It goes without saying that what we consider “the best for our children” is based on our values and experiences. However, there is an enormous gap between us and the children. The children and teens grew up homeless, ignored by their parents and most adults. They had to create their own world system in their minds in order to survive their reality. It is different and foreign to everything which I have been brought up with in my life. Their values are derived from their living context. I cannot expect them to have the same values nor the same goals or ambition as I have. All these things are a product of my own upbringing. Our children and teens grew up in an entirely different environment. There is great abyss between us.

Jesus and this woman came from two different worlds. Our Lord immediately pointed this out. He used words that would be considered harsh now. The Jewish people in His time considered the Gentiles to be like dogs. These in Jesus’ times were considered unclean animals because they were scavengers. They were tolerated because they protected the household that fed them. Their existence was more accidental but intentional. They did not belong to anyone. They were just there. Thus was the existence of this woman. Her presence was just tolerated but it was insignificant. It would appear as if Jesus shared the prejudices of His people back then when He called her a dog. It was definitely neither a compliment nor a term of endearment. However, we should also judge Jesus by His actions. He allowed her to be in the same place as He was. Gentiles are not allowed direct contact with the Jewish people and yet she was at the table with Him. He gave her the opportunity to approach Him even though he was exhausted and desperately in need of rest.

“Jesus said, “For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20

I read this verse with Felipe. He asked me if it was possible for him to move an apartment building which was towering over us. It was a little disappointing to hear this frankly. It is not Felipe’s fault in any way. It is the age in which we live. Faith was become something of a spectacle where so-called pastors performed “miracles” and “healings” in the same manner as some magicians do. Felipe was impressed that faith can move things. I reminded that there is nowhere in the Bible where God removed mountains. He used mountains to meet with people. He used the desert to prepare people for greater things. He did not remove the sea to help His people get across. He used it to reveal His infinite power and mercy. Besides our faith is not an instrument to perform spectacles. I am not sure if Felipe understood. I decided not to pursue the matter. Faith cannot be taught. No one taught the Syrophoenician woman how to respond to Jesus. The question, therefore, is how did she develop her faith.

This woman spent all her life in a society which rejected and ignored her and yet, none of this caused her to doubt that Jesus, a Jewish rabbi, would heal her daughter. Despite her dire circumstances, she had faith. At the same time, there are many who have given up their faith for relatively small issues. We cannot adopt a self-righteous attitude and say that these people are weak. This is what the Pharisees would do and Jesus warned us that our spirituality must surpass these people. Most of us, if not all, have faith the size of a mustard seed. It is so tiny that is impossible for us not to have it. Jesus said that this was enough. Now, we have to discover how to move mountains with it. This cannot be done unless our faith can help us see the One who is actually able to remove all obstacles which life throws at us.

Recently I was chatting with Daniel when all the sudden he stood up and greeted a young hip-looking man. Then he asked me to come over. He introduced me as a priest. It so happened that the young man was a Roman Catholic priest. We talked for a while and then after he left I asked Daniel how he met him. He said that he saw him in the church several times and he approached him on his own. He saw something different in this young priest. I saw it too. I can’t explain what it is but there is something in him that gave me a sense of peace and acceptance. Daniel went on to say that he believed that the more he surrounds himself with people like these, the more he feels confident that one day he will have the courage to take the necessary step to overcome the obstacles before him. I think Daniel articulated perfectly how to allow our mustard seed to grow. We need to use our faith to recognize the presence of God in this world; the clearer we see God in this world, the greater our faith becomes in overcoming life’s mountains. Daniel saw God’s presence in the life of the priest even though before they ever exchanged a word.

The priest, like myself, comes from a world entirely different from that of Daniel’s. There is very little in common between us just like the Syrophoenician woman and Jesus. However, she had the faith to see God’s presence in Jesus despite all the obstacles between them. We don’t need more faith to overcome the obstacles in life. We just need to use our tiny faith to open our eyes and see God’s presence in this world. Daniel is learning how to do this. I think that I need to stop focusing on the gap that separates us. Instead my focus should on using my tiny mustard seed faith to see the One who brings us together to overcome the obstructing mountains in our lives.

The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.” John 6:52-55

Many years ago, I had an interesting conversation with an extremely honest person. It happened after a Bible study. He shared that he did not feel the need to be saintly. He was by no means a scoundrel or anything of this nature. To the contrary, he was quite a decent person. He was also religious. He liked to talk about God and often shared about his personal conversion experience. He never tired of describing the intensity of his conversion experience. He could name the place and day when it occurred. Even his wife admits that she was surprised over the immediate change in his attitude after that faithful day. He was actively involved in church for some time but after a while, he decided this experience was enough to ensure him that he has secured a place in heaven. Now, he goes about in life pursuing his own personal interest. He is a good father and husband. He runs his own business and all his employees like him. He is an overall nice guy. I like him. I would welcome him into my house any time. Nevertheless, I found it unsettling that the message of the gospel was reduced to one particular moment in his life. It is as if salvation is a vaccine, once you receive it, you can continue to live your life like anyone else. Often, people tell me that I can’t expect everyone to be a missionary or a priest. They are right. It would be a disaster. Missionaries and priests should come in small doses. I just wonder if there is something more to salvation than just getting our spiritual vaccine. It seems like Jesus went through a lot just to give us a passage to heaven. According to the gospel text above, Jesus informs that we need to eat His flesh and drink His blood in order to know eternal life; it will not suffice just using His name to gain entrance at the pearly gates. We need to consume His flesh and blood. What a ghastly idea!

Thankfully, this passage is not common knowledge to our youth. It is not something one randomly reads to someone. Just imagine telling our kids that they need to indulge in spiritual cannibalism to have access to eternal life. It just doesn’t sound right in any circumstance. We can appreciate the sentiments of the people who first heard this. However, the evangelist thought it was so important that he decided to register it for our reflection. It is crucial for our eternal life as Jesus said. In our churches, we made it easier to digest these tough words by linking them to the sacraments. The host and the wine seem so clean and sanitized compared to what Jesus was saying. We hardly think about the gruesome images which Jesus inflicted on his listeners. He could have appeased the disturbed minds by saying that He meant all this in the sacramental sense. Alas, He kept going on and on about the Flesh and the Blood.

We read this text with Felipe. I thought maybe he was ready for it. Understandably, he was puzzled and confused. To my dismay, I realized that I couldn’t really explain it clearly to him. It was too complex to say in a few words but it was too late. I had to think up of something. Like any experienced priest, I diverted the conversation saying that the Bible is not as easy as many think. It contains language which might seem bizarre and strange because the Truth is strange. I think a famous philosopher once said this but I can’t remember his name. Maybe Bertrand Russell? He was right. Felipe settled for my argument. He also knew that I evaded the answer. Eventually, he needs to know. It is about eternal life. It’s crucial for our spirituality. This is why I am trying to work it out here. One day, I have to say something meaningful to the children and teens in the streets about these words.

We use our flesh to experience life in this world. We discover the world through the senses of our body. Our minds can travel to space and back but our body always stays rooted in one tiny space in this vast universe. In this minute area allocated to us, we explore our reality. We come to conclusions about people and society through our bodily experiences. We also discern what is good and bad through them. Our hands and mouth are how we communicate in this world. The same mouth can say loving and hurtful things. The same hands can heal and destroy. In our bodies there is a constant battle to do one or the other. We always end up doing both.

Jesus gives us His flesh to go beyond our limited bodies. He gives us new eyes and ears to experience life from His perspective. Jesus gives us His mouth and hands. They are meant for us to do things that He did. Jesus lived His life to bring peace and reconciliation to those were forgotten and neglected in this world. He looked at things from the perspective of those who were neglected. He refused a space among high places of society. He refused to seek alliance with them even when it was crucial to save His life. He always chose the lowest place to seek those who are lost and forgotten. In the Old Testament, blood is the source of life and it was prohibited for anyone to consume blood. It was such a taboo even the early church made it a primary requirement for Gentile converts. Jesus wants His life source to run through our veins. He wants us to live our lives in the manner He did. In the early church, some took this following Jesus in His journey to a painful and torturous death. Most of us don’t have to follow this course. Thankfully. However, it doesn’t mean that we are to remain in our comfort zone.

“I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Mahatma Gandhi

It is strange that in this world people know instinctively that to be a Christian means to be like Christ. No one expects a Buddhist to be like Gautama Buddha nor a Hindu to be like Krishna. However, the world recognizes to be a Christian is not just a mere adherent to doctrines. It is an acceptance to become Jesus in this world. It doesn’t mean that we go around saying, “Praise the Lord” or indulging in religious talk and causes. It means that our flesh is to become like His flesh and His blood needs to fuel our lives.

All this sounds great, but it seems next to impossible. Maybe this is the first step. We recognize that it is an impossible task. Perhaps if we feed on Jesus daily, the task might be easier. Most certainly, we cannot depend on one spiritual experience to transform us into Jesus. We have to see Him everyday. He is present in this world. We can find Him in the same places as before. He did tell us that He came to heal the sick and not to be with the well. He is present today among those who need His healing touch. As we seek His face among these people, we will learn to see and live eternal life through His flesh and blood.

Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. ” John 6:35

“It’s always the same tiresome conversations: day in and day out.” I knew exactly what Daniel meant. I had heard these conversations just minutes before I ran into him. The teens were talking about the same things which they talked about before the Pandemic. As it happens, it hasn’t changed since we met them. There is just a very limited pool of subjects. Everything is in the shallow end. No one dares to go beyond. It is like making small talk without going anywhere with it. Unfortunately, I have been in countless situations like this. It’s my idea of hell: an eternity of pointless small talk. Daniel was tired of it. I understand. He is not alone. There are many who are tired of the same old routine everyday. It is almost inescapable because it is essential. Daniel has no other place to call home at this moment. His lot is among these homeless children and teens. In order to feel connected to them, he has to participate in this frivolous chatter. Nevertheless, he yearns for something more profound, something that would edify his soul. He desires the bread of Life.

“Maybe one day something interesting might come up and you can talk about something else,” I added. Daniel smiled. It’s a smile that can brighten up anyone’s day. No doubt he is our favorite in the streets. It’s hard to not love this charming young man.

When I arrived at the streets, Daniel had just gotten up. Things have changed now. Before he could have just walked past some restaurant and asked for leftover food. It is not the case now. He woke up too late to beg for money. It takes them a while to get enough money to buy food. Daniel was ravenous. He asked me if I could buy him a snack. I had a better idea. We went to a restaurant and ordered some real food for takeout. Then we found a quiet spot where he could eat his meal in peace. He asked me to say a blessing over the food. Just as I said, “amen”, he surprised me with a short prayer of his own. He prayed for Mary and gave thanks for the fact that we are going to have times together like before. It was clear that he was in the mood to talk but his rice and beans were waiting.

“I remember everything we did together.” These were his words in-between bites. This is the second time he has told us this since the Pandemic. We met briefly on one or two occasions in the last ten months or so. We had done a lot of things with Daniel: museums, libraries and sometimes just having coffee and cake in a small cafe. He was always careful to order the cheapest things on the menu. He was just that kind of person; always respectful and considerate of others. “What was your favorite part?” I asked. “Everything. It brought something different to my life.” Daniel was always up for something new ever since he was a young child. Maybe it is because the happiest time he had was when he travelled with his father together with his older brother, Dreyson, all over Brazil. At first, they thought that their father enjoyed their company. Later on they discovered that he was using them to beg for money. People tend to give more when there are children involved, especially when they are adorable like Dreyson and Daniel.

He asked me if he received any letters. I was quite surprised that he remembered them. I don’t why. Maybe because it seemed so long since we did this. Things we did before the Pandemic seem like a vague memory now. Amazingly, Daniel remembered all the letters. He mentioned one in particular which had dried pressed flowers. A lady from Florida thought that he would like to see the flowers that grew in her garden. I remembered that he was really impressed by them. “Those flowers looked beautiful even though they are dead.” He further impressed me by describing them in detail. Honestly, I can’t even remember the name of the person who sent them. Hopefully, she will forgive me for my forgetfulness. He wasn’t quite done yet. He added that the flowers were like the time we spent together. They are precious beautiful moments that are carefully pressed and kept in a special place in his heart. “However, ” he went on to say, “they are not dead.” He paused for a moment. He was trying to find the words. I told him that I didn’t really understand what he was trying to say. Then, he explained that those flowers are gone forever even though their beauty is preserved. However, our friendship is different. It is from God. The memories that he had were really his hope that one day God will resurrect it. Suddenly he smiled again. He found his words. This is the difference between life with God and without Him. You know that God is able to resurrect things that appear to be dead. I realized that the months of separation and isolation had given Daniel the impression that everything was gone. It’s understandable. However, now he sees that God is able to resurrect all the good things in his life. This, he concluded, like the story of Jesus. Everyone thought that he was gone forever, then God resurrected Him. With God, there is also the hope of Resurrection. Daniel had spoken. It is amazing that he got all this from a simple pressed flower. This young man has a genuine theologian in him.

Being isolated and subjected to frivolous conversations day in and day out hasn’t stopped Daniel from going beyond what meets the eye. I filled his stomach with food, more specifically rice and beans with a little piece of chicken. The Bread of Life came to him through a flower that a lady sent just as a simple gesture to share some of the beauty she enjoys in this world. Jesus used it to show us the power of His Resurrection.

When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” John 6:5-9

Felipe has been looking for a place to stay. I am glad that they decided it was time to move. It was because of the rats. Dealing with the scorpions and cockroaches was bad enough and now they have to deal with a nest of rats. For many reading this, it would sound like I am describing hell. For Felipe, it is his home. He used to sleep in the streets. Now, he has safe place for his family. Unfortunately, it is an abandoned storage unit; never built to house anyone. The pests were living there before families seeking shelter made it their home. The rats destroyed their clothes and food. It was the last straw for the family. Thankfully, some friends of ours have offered to help them with the rent until they are able to fend for themselves. Felipe and his wife found a place. It was two small rooms with a bathroom attached. It was going to cost them Brazilian R$900. Unfortunately, it was also infested with rats. It was the cheapest place they could find. Felipe works and earns only R$400 per month. He doesn’t earn enough to pay his rent. He is not the only one. There are families living in tents in the streets. Most of them work during the day doing odd jobs. None of them can afford to pay the rent.

The pandemic is slowing down for now. It is not the end yet. There are still about thousand deaths from Covid daily here. It used to be more so we are considering this time a slight reprieve. It gives us a chance to rekindle our relationships with the youth. I noticed something different this time. Daniel and Alex on two separate days asked if I could buy them something to eat. Previously they were able to get by in the streets without any help from us. Now, things have changed. On the way home from the streets, I stopped by in a grocery store to pick up something for dinner. I bought the same things that I usually buy but there is one big difference. I paid almost three times more than I did before the Pandemic. I made a comment to the cashier and she said that it has been getting harder to get by now. It is not just my impression. Everyone is feeling it. People used to give to the homeless the leftovers and now there is hardly enough for them.

The gospel of John states that Jesus asked Philip the difficult question, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” I sense being asked this same question in my soul. The evangelist informs us that it was a test. I hate tests. I detest the feeling of knowing that I could give the wrong answer. I wondered why Jesus thought that it was necessary to test Philip. Apparently, the apostle did well. He plainly stated that the problem was beyond their pay grade. I would give Jesus the very same answer in the present circumstances. Perhaps, Jesus was wondering where Philip would seek the solution. In our modern times, many, including Christians, would suggest the political route. They believe that we could get politicians who never bothered about the plight of these people to do something to help them. It would be easier to turn stone into bread. The apostles were aware of their limitations but they still sought for an answer. Some went around asking the people for some help and Andrew found a young lad willing to offer his little to Jesus. There is something to be said about this quiet apostle. He could see things in people that others tended to overlook. Philip diagnosed the problem and Andrew saw that perhaps the answer could be found in the most unlikely person. He was right.

Most of us would have never thought about bringing these measly offerings to Jesus. Maybe we would have kept it to ourselves, justifying that we had too little to offer and it would be best not to bother Jesus with it. However, many times great changes in history occur when people who have very little resources step up and do something. After all, we are the majority in this world. The people with resources are few and far between. Many times they want to use their resources for their own sakes. Nevertheless, our subject of interest is this little lad who had very little to offer. He is a much more interesting subject for our reflection. We tend to imagine that this little boy was someone like our own son or grandson or something of that nature. This boy wasn’t naive. Children in Jesus’ time worked from a tender age to support the family. Moreover, this boy would have had more working experience than many young adults today. This is not a criticism of young people today. It is just to say that this boy was aware how small his offering was and yet, it did not stop him from availing all he had to help feed the thousands.

Interestingly, we read this story with Felipe last Sunday but in its version in the gospel of Matthew. Felipe asked me how did Jesus perform this miracle. I told him that no one really knows. One interpretation is that Jesus just kept dividing the bread and fish and it just ended up filling up the baskets. There is also an interpretation that the people really had bread and fish with them and they thought that it was insufficient to make any impact. However, the generosity of this little boy prompted them to follow in his footsteps and donate what they had to Jesus. In the end, everyone had more than enough to eat. I asked Felipe which interpretation he liked the best. I was surprised that he chose the latter. He added that there was no doubt in his mind that Jesus could multiply the bread and the fish but the second one seems more powerful. It was not the answer I expected but I was grateful for it. It came from his life experience. It also gave me an insight on how to face the dreadful situation before us.

Felipe, Daniel and Alex don’t expect a full-scale miracle that would change their situation with a magical wave. They look for small things. They look for miracles in simple actions. Daniel and Alex were grateful that I was able to spend relatively a small amount for their meals. I sat with them as they ate and we actually had wonderful conversations. Daniel, before he ate his meal, insisted that we pray together and he gave thanks to God that we are back with them in the streets again. Felipe is not discouraged that the housing is expensive. He is happy that today he has a place to lay his head and a safe place for his children despite the rats. For him, it is a blessing every day that he is away from the streets. It has been four years since he last slept on the streets.

We don’t have what it takes to solve the immense problem before us. This is a good thing. We don’t want to have any illusions of grandeur that we are going to save the world. We are not God, nor little gods. We are people with limited resources. Having said that, it doesn’t mean we use this as an argument to remain passive. God has given us enough to create positive changes in this world. After all, it is not we who make changes in the world. Jesus is the one who does it. All we have to do is bring our offerings to our Lord’s table and He will transform them into bread of life. All of us have enough to bring something to the table. We need the faith of this young boy to see it. I really like this little lad. He brings joy to my heart.

He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. Mark 6:31-34

Something happened in the street. Actually it was really nothing. The street is like that. Not everything is what it seems. The homeless youth need some excitement in their lives. There is nothing more fun than good gossip. The brouhaha was about someone getting murdered where they were hanging out. Some version claimed that some of the youths attempted to rob and ended up killing their victim. I knew enough not to react immediately to this type of news. If you wait long enough, the facts will emerge. No one died, but some one was badly injured. However, even this was a little suspicious. The truth was, thankfully, less dramatic. There was a scuffle between two drugs addicts and one person sustained superficial injury to the head. Everyone was fine but it attracted lots of unnecessary attention. The gang which controls the area decided that enough was enough. They made a new rule. No one is allowed to use drugs within the vicinity. This works out to our benefit. The youth will definitely listen to the gang. Maybe this is the reason why everyone’s imagination was active. There was no chemical substance dulling it. However, something did happen; something unexpected and spectacular. All the homeless youth are completely vaccinated. This has never happened before.

Usually, the homeless are the last in line to receive any benefits including health care. However, the local government received a lot of vaccine requiring only one shot. They decided it would be best to administer it to the homeless population. Our kids were first in line. They were briefly oriented about the side effects before receiving their shot. Most of them did not experience anything, except a few that sensed a slight discomfort. Thankfully, this pandemic has bypassed the homeless population in our city. This is quite a significant population where we live. In our neighborhood which includes the area where the kids stay there are about two thousand homeless adults and a couple of hundred children and teens. Most recently these numbers include families too. These is a very conservative estimate; the reality is much higher. It is amazing that the most of them have received their vaccination.

I got my first shot, too. I have some immunity now and my second shot will be administered in mid September. I decided to venture out to our usual spot where we met the children before the pandemic. It has been a long since I used this phrase, “on the steps of the cathedral,” in our reflections. I stood in front of the steps for a brief moment. Now it is occupied only by the homeless. The cathedral looks a little lonely. Eventually things will be back to some sort of a new normal. As I approached the area where the teens and children were, I was feeling a little apprehensive. It has been more than a year since we have been in that location. We haven’t seen most of these young people for a long time. I wondered what the reception would be like. Just before the Pandemic, we were cultivating some deep relationship with the newer arrivals to the street. We had many good conversations and moments. However, our time with them was brief compared to the time we spent with Felipe and Bruno or even Wallace. These young people we have known for more than eight years. These new ones, perhaps, only a few months prior to the Pandemic. I wondered if we needed to start from ground zero.

To be honest, I was feeling a little uncomfortable. I wasn’t afraid or anything of that nature. It is just that I am an introvert. Once I am comfortable in a situation, I tend to be more outgoing. Whenever I am faced with a new circumstance, I have a tendency to retreat within myself. I was really hoping for vestiges of the old in these new circumstances. We had carved a place for ourselves among the homeless teens. It took us a long time to build our identity among them. Now, I was afraid that this place is no more. Then I saw a familiar face. He waved to me. It was Rone. I have seen him periodically during the Pandemic. He called me over. Before I could say anything to him, someone ran up to me and gave me a big hug. Something which is unheard of in this time. No physical contact between friends for almost two years. The hug was accompanied with these words, “We are now all vaccinated so there is no danger!” Obviously, they haven’t received the best of orientations. However, the hug was most welcome. It was Kawanna. Then Erica came and hugged me. They were beaming. They asked about Mary and I told them she was making her way back to the ministry too. We were all coming back full force but slowly. It was Kawanna that was most expressive. She was the one we had started to get to know before the Pandemic. She had so much to say and managed to blurt everything in a brief moment. She wanted me to know that she missed all our conversations and just sitting and being with us. She wanted me to know that we were really special to her. She missed us and was anxious to see Mary again. She asked all kinds of questions. To be frank, I didn’t get most of it. I was too elated to pay attention to all her words. Her smile was sufficient. It was more powerful than her words. It told me that our space was still intact. Rust and moth have not corrupted it. Some might think that I was being worried over nothing. This is not entirely true. There is no guarantee that our place is always reserved for us. The streets operates on a different beat.

Our homeless youth live in a constant survival mode. They have to adapt to new situations constantly so that they don’t have the luxury to stop and reminisce about what they lost. It is quite a tragic state. They can’t afford to go to a deserted place and reflect. Perhaps, this period of Pandemic has given them this deserted place. The whole world stopped during this time. We have been in this state longer than most countries. We are still not anywhere close to the end. We are just figuring how to move forward as best as we can. However, for the past year, we have felt a little lost. Our foundations were shaken. There are many who pretend nothing has changed. For these, they will continue making the same mistakes and taking things for granted just like before. However, moments like these are meant for us to stop and evaluate our lives. They are our desert moments to ponder about Life. I guess that Kawanna might have done this. She realized that she treasured our friendship even though it was just in its initial stage. We realized that we loved our place among the homeless youth. It is the place where we sense the presence of the Good Shepherd strongly. It is the place where we feel like we are not lost sheep wondering around in search of a pastor. I know that “hug” might make some people cringe at this present moment but I have to say that it was most welcome. It wasn’t just a hug. It was divine touch. It was the Good Shepherd reminding us that we did not carve this space for ourselves. He prepared it for us. It is His space and He invited us to occupy it. He kept it for us. The evidence was in the face of Kawanna. It was spoke louder than a thousand words. It gave us the courage to return to the new normal. We are going back full force, one step at a time.

Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” He looked all around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Mark 5:30-34

I mulled over this text at the beginning of this week. I thought to myself that this will be a perfect story to share with our children. It is quite straightforward in a way. The poor woman suffered a grave infirmity which isolated her from the rest of society. According the Jewish traditions then, she was considered unclean due to her constant bleeding. She was marginalized from the rest of society due to her condition. Our children share her fate with a major difference. They were born marginalized. This is a complex word and one which is often thrown about whenever the subject of abject poverty is discussed. All the complex problems and experiences associated with it are reduced to one term, albeit an inoffensive one. We have been with our children a while now. Most of the children and teens we met when we first came here are adults now. Our relationship has gone beyond superficiality. Now, they ask profound questions deserving an appropriate answers. They want to know why they are marginalized. For first of all, they want to know it means. They don’t understand this term. I admit it is confusing. It is also strange that we have terms to designate people whose significance is foreign to the designee. When I considered explaining this term, I realized that there was a certain arrogance attached to it. I am assuming that I do not share their marginality. I have no evidence to support it. I can argue that I have a voice in society. Unfortunately, this is just an illusion. No one really listens to my voice. My friends and family might humor me. They might consider the things I say seriously. Our children and teens will say that they have this too in their lives which is true. I can claim that I have wealth compared to them of course, but nothing impressive in the eyes of the world. After all, we don’t own a home nor a car nor anything that someone can point at and say, “that’s a successful person!” I can say that I have a blog where I can express my reflections. In reality, it is only for a handful of kind-hearted faithful readers. Thank you, nevertheless, it is a joy to know that you exist. It still doesn’t prove that I am not marginalized. Before anything else, I still need to define this term, at least for myself and our young people.

The best way to do it is with a piece of paper. I tell them that a story is written in the middle of the page and the margins are left empty. Those who find themselves in the margins don’t play a role in the story written in the center. Therefore, they are invisible. This does not really help. There are many unanswered questions. Who is writing the story? The most important one, whether it is a story that is appealing enough to draw someone out of the margins into the center of it? Well, there is a story being told in every society and presently it doesn’t seem like an appealing one. It is one filled with strife and hatred. Therefore, the margins seem to be a better place. The reality is that a vast of majority of us are not part of the main story. We could be spectators cheering those in the center but spectators are not part of the story. History books will never record our existence. The historical narrative is reserved for a select group of people and most of the time, they are not necessarily the most interesting ones. The truth of the matter is that almost everyone lives in the margins. Once I asked Felipe and Edson, “Do you want to be part of the history of this world?” They just shrugged their shoulders and asked me if I heard about a new mammal that was discovered in Vietnam. Apparently, my question did not perk up their interest. It was irrelevant. They are quite content living in the margins. To be honest, I am quite happy not being in the center page of this world’s story. The margins seem to tell a more interesting story. They have the most colorful characters like this woman in the gospel.

We know nothing about her and yet we know her story. Any place in the world where there is church present, her story is told. She has touched many hearts despite being anonymous. Felipe was curious about her. Her life spoke to him because she came from his reality. Well, she came from our reality. We are both marginalized. Although, Felipe and I are not the same in our condition. I have more privileges which may or may not be blessings. However, it is sufficient to say that we are both not important to this world. This is fine as long as we know our true state. Then we don’t have to waste our time trying to get into the center of the page of society’s story. We have our story to tell and we tell it to those who are with us in the margins. However, I don’t want to give the impression that life in the margins is wonderful and great. It is usually brutal, unjust and extremely difficult for many. The woman suffered for many years. She lived in isolation and loneliness. She needed healing. This is the most important thing. We need healing, not recognition. Once she received her healing, she was ready to go back to her anonymous life. Jesus, for one, did not stand in her way.

He called her out to relay a powerful message. “Your faith has made you well.” This woman had spent most of her wealth seeking for a cure on the outside when she had the cure within her. She lost everything she possessed, maybe because it never belonged to her in the first place. Jesus gave her back something that truly belonged to her. Something she did not expect.

All she wanted was healing and then, to leave discreetly after she received it. Most likely, she thought that she was undeserving of it. This is the problem of those who live in the margins. They don’t believe that they are worthy of anything. It is hard to convince people otherwise. No amount of education nor conversation can impress someone to believe that they deserve mercy and grace. On the other hand, there are many on the other side of the spectrum too but we won’t comment on them. Jesus did not tell her that she was worthy of healing. Instead He told her to listen to her faith. It informed her to touch the cloak of Jesus. It would have sounded strange if she had expressed this opinion to others. They might have accused her of being idolatrous. To suggest that Jesus’ clothes had divine healing power would also suggest that Jesus was divine. At this stage of the gospel narrative, this would have been a preposterous concept. However, this woman’s faith told her otherwise. She believed something about Jesus that was miles ahead of all his disciples. Jesus advised her to listen to her faith. It would bring the healing that she needed to live life to the fulness in the margins. Besides there is no evidence that being in the center of life’s history is fulfilling.

The next difficult question is the one about faith. I asked Felipe and Mary at one Bible study if they could describe the nature of faith. There was complete silence. This was the best answer. It would be wrong if they gave me some cliche response. The silence meant that it is something that is real in us but we still haven’t found to words to express it in an adequate manner. It is there present in us. Sometimes, the people who suffer in the margins hear the voice of faith clearer and louder than others. Our task is to pay attention to this voice. It is not an object. It is not a theory nor a doctrine. It is something living and dynamic. Sometimes I see it more clearly in some of my friends who have given up religion and embraced the label of atheism. Despite their unbelief, they are manifesting faith in their words and actions, much more than religious people. Faith is a gift from God and when we listen to its voice, it will bring us the healing that we need in this life. It can do more than any efforts to bring us out of marginality. Faith makes our life colorful in all sorts of conditions. We need to learn to discern her sweet healing voice in our souls.