We caught his eye as we came to a stop at a street corner. Dressed in a thick, puffy jacket, with strands of graying hair framing his face, he stood there as though he was hoping for us to stop and talk to him. And so we did.  
 
    His name was *John. After only a few minutes of conversation, my street partner said we were on our way, but John wanted to join us on our walk. We gladly let him stroll down a few blocks to the library with us. He was mostly a man of few words, even as my teammate asked questions to get to know him, but John was overall friendly with a touch of good humor. At one point, he slowly opened his arms for a hug which we gladly returned. 

   About halfway through our conversation, we realized he was drinking, stopping at times to pull out the bottle in his plastic bag and taking a swig. My teammate and I felt the silent discomfort of the situation between us, though John continued to be relatively benevolent. Eventually, the street walk ended with a prayer, before we went our separate ways.  

Times in Gethsemane  

 
    I was reminded of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, as He asked His disciples to stay with Him and keep watch.  Under the crushing weight of the sins of the entire world, He merely wanted to have the people He loved to be present with Him.  

He knew they could not take away the pain, but their presence was at least a little bit of comfort. It would mean to Him that they cared, and that He wasn't alone, and that was enough.

    Although he could not verbalize it in his state, our street friend John did not want to be alone in his isolating pain. 

   We’ve all had our times in Gethsemane, where we feel as though we cannot carry the burden of suffering. Who are the ones to whom we turn to keep us company in our hour of need? This Lent, let us pray for them especially, and give thanks to God for their “yes” to being His hands and feet.  

   We must also take a hard look at ourselves and our relationships with those around us. Whom have I neglected to stay with and keep watch? When have I chosen to ignore the poor around me—whether the homeless man on the street, or the friend I haven’t called in months, suffering in silence? Do I act as though Christ is not truly present in the Eucharist, and neglect to keep Him company in my heart? 

   Have I done this out of innocent ignorance, or fear of discomfort?  

     Lent is the perfect time to make this examination of conscience. After all, what does it matter if we love and care for our friends, but neglect the poor on our streets? Or even vice versa, busily serving the homeless yet sacrificing intentional time with those in our circles who yearn for our love?

   Christ is found in our suffering brothers and sisters, as He identified so intimately with them in His life of poverty, persecution, and especially in His Passion and Death. In the end, we are not simply caring for individuals--we are encountering Christ Himself. 

   Will we be bold enough to stay and keep watch with Him, in the poor around us?

*name changed 

Hazel Jordan is an Office & Communications Assistant at Our Lady of Lourdes. She is currently pursuing a Master's in Theology at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. A recent graduate of the University of St. Thomas, she continues to be active in the faith community there, leading and developing a street ministry program that forms students to encounter the homeless in the Twin Cities. Among other things, she is a self-taught artist and musician, proudly acquiring graphic design and guitar/songwriting skills!