Franciscan Outreach Association 

1645 W. LeMoyne Street, Chicago, IL 60622

Telephone (773)278-6724  Fax (773)278-7120   mail@franoutreach.org

 

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here at St. Peter’s. Our church was where he “took his breaks.” It certainly provided him a quiet and comfortable place to retreat from the crowds and the elements; but it also offered him an opportunity to pray. Dave was quick to tell anyone willing to listen that he had been raised in the Church of the Nazarene and almost as quick to tell a joke “at the expense” of his religion. He also made it a point to regularly make it to Mass. He not only liked listening to what the “preacher” had to say, he appreciated being a part of the prayer we share each day.

Those frequent visits to St. Peter’s were also an opportunity for something else that Dave did every day. It wasn’t a tithe in the strict sense of the term; but Dave made it a point to contribute some of what had been given him each day to the Poor Box here at St. Peter’s. He knew that there were people whose need was greater than his own; and he wanted to do what he could to help them. Whenever I’d hear the sounds of his coins falling into the Poor Box, I always remembered the Gospel story of the “widow’s mite.” When he looked up he saw some wealthy people putting their offerings into the treasury and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins. He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.” (Luke 20:45-47) His charity was always the best sermon that I heard on any given day.

When he had finished saying his prayers and making his contribution, Dave made it a point to stop by our Front Office. He wanted to know how we were doing. He didn’t need to tell us how he was doing. His persistent cough and increasing emaciation more than suggested that all was not well with him. There were also times when he didn’t need to say a word about at least one of his demons. One whiff usually told the whole story; and as his condition continued to deteriorate, it was pretty clear that his story was an unfolding tragedy. Nevertheless, Dave’s spirits were good and his interest was genuine. It was in those conversations that many of us got to meet the man who, before, had only been a stranger on a street corner. We not only learned what his religion was, but also where his home had been. There were holiday stories of visits to a brother and his family in one of Chicago’s suburbs. We got to experience his sense of humor and also encountered his sense of outrage when a case of mistaken identity caused him some problems here. It would be an over-statement to say that we got to know him; but we certainly had an opportunity to meet him. It was a pleasure.

If “persistent cough and increasing emaciation” doesn’t offer an insight into what prompts these words, then the past tense of all the verbs surely should. Dave died last Tuesday. He was in his early 40’s. We don’t have many more details than that. We don’t know where or how he died. We don’t know when, where or if there was a funeral. What I do know is that I hope his brother and the rest of his family gathered with a community of faith somewhere to celebrate the peace which Dave has now found in the fullness of God’s presence. What I do know is that I wish I could have been a part of that prayer. What I do know is that I miss his presence on the Northwest corner of Madison and LaSalle Streets and his daily visits to our church. What I do know is that his passing can’t and shouldn’t go unnoticed or uncelebrated in this faith community. He was one of us; and we were blessed in and honored by his presence. We may not have been able to easily recognize ourselves in him; but God surely saw his own image in this child upon whom he looked with love. Eternal rest grant unto Dave, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

My homily on Palm Sunday acknowledged a story that continues to inspire and challenge me. A number of years ago, two of my Franciscan brothers moved out of their friary in Brussels, Belgium and began to live under a railroad trestle. Their inspiration had come from a simple sentence in one of the Gospels, He looked on them with love; and they wanted to be where they could do just that for the people in their community who were most ignored and despised. The people who fell into that category in Brussels at that time were the men and women who “rode the rails,” the people we’ve traditionally called “hoboes” or “bums.” These Franciscans wanted to make sure that, whatever else they experienced during each of their days, these people would have someone there to look on them with love. I’ve always been reasonably sure that I couldn’t live under a railroad trestle; and sometimes I’ve wondered whether “looking on someone with love” isn’t even more difficult. Dave’s death has become a gift of grace that renews that challenge for me; and I hope it will do so for you. It can be so easy to ignore, to be irritated, by the presence of another; and that response isn’t limited to those who stand on street corners and panhandle. Our families can be filled with people who experience a similar disregard all the time. Such people are no strangers to the rest of our lives either. We may or may not believe that responding to whatever else they ask of us is a wise course of action. We may or may not think that it’s a good idea to give money to someone who asks for it on the street; but there’s no question that we can and should treat and greet everyone with respect.

A “look of love” often asks little more of us than that we take the time to notice and acknowledge the presence of another. Kindness in our eyes, in our words and in the way we speak those words may require some effort, but not much. It’s the least that we would want for ourselves; and it ought to be the least we gracefully, gratefully and willingly give to others.

I am always humbled by and filled with pride at the ministry which Fr. Larry Janezic, O.F.M. and his colleagues at the Franciscan Outreach Association offer. Their service takes many forms. The House of Mary and Joseph provides emergency shelter to hundreds of men and women each night. The Marquard Center feeds a hundred or so of the hungry each evening of the week. It makes available something so seemingly simple as an opportunity to wash dirty clothes. Staff members are there each day to look on those who come to them with love and help them find their way to lives more worthy of who they are. The Franciscan Outreach Association is a blessing, and most deserving of our support. If you would like to help and I hope you will, please contact Fr. Larry at 1645 West LeMoyne Street, Chicago, Illinois 60622. The telephone number is 773-278-6724.

Thousands of people pass through St. Peter’s doors each week. Each of us enters with a story that only God fully understands. Dave was one with us in that. I’m glad he came. I miss him, and I pray for him. God bless Dave and all of us with . . .

Peace and everything good,
Fr. Bill

For a link to the weekly bulletin of St. Peter's Church, click on... www.stpetersloop.org

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