Open Our Eyes and See

About eight years ago, I was in Portland, Oregon,

for the installation of a friend of mine

as President of the University of Portland.

There was two days of massive celebrations and fancy functions.

Everyone was dressed up for the celebration,

maybe not in purple and linen but certainly sumptuous food.

The last event finished quite early around like 8:30 p.m.

and after three days of celebrations,

I was delighted to go back to my hotel in downtown Portland.

When I returned to the hotel, I got into my regular clothes

and decided to go out for a walk.

I wanted to get some water and I didn’t want to pay $5

for those bottles of water in the hotel; for a thimble-size bottle.

I had noticed there was a Rite Aid

right outside the hotel around the corner.

It had a separate indoor and outdoor.

As I was going in, I looked at the outdoor

and there was this beautiful dog sitting with her legs up in the air

and a homeless man sitting beside her.

It caught my attention and you know much I love dogs.

I’m in buying the bottle of water and I had this pang of guilt

and said, I’ll buy another bottle of water

in case I decide to stop and look at that dog.

Also, I’ll buy a bar of candy just in case I stop

that I have something to give the homeless person.

As I leave the store, sure enough there was the dog still there

with her legs up in the air.

I bent down and I pet the dog and

scratched her belly and of course, she loved it.

It was a gorgeous-looking dog.

And I asked the homeless man, what’s your dog’s name?

He said, “Spooky.”

I said, “Spooky? That’s an unusual name for a dog.

Why did you name her Spooky?”

And he says because the streets are spooky

and I found her on the streets.

As I looked at the young man, the man was young.

He was like in his early 20’s.

I started a conversation with him while I petted the dog asking:

“How did you end up on the streets?

You are so young.”

He said, “My parents were abusive.

I went to live with my grandparents

but then they died within a few years and I had nowhere to go.”

He ended up on the streets.

That was six years ago when he was 18 and now, he was 24.

I was shocked. I looked at him and I said,

“You’ve been on the streets for 6 years?

So how do you manage?”

At this point, we are chatting back and forth

and I’m sitting on one side of the dog and

he’s sitting on the other side of the dog;

and people are giving both of us money at this point.

As I was chatting away, I realized that I didn’t know his name.

I knew the dog’s name.

I asked him and his name was Michael.

We proceeded to have a conversation about 30 or 40 minutes.

After a while I said, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He said, “Maybe get some food.”

I said, “I’ll give you some money for food.

Where do you want to go?”

He said, “I go up there to the street vendor

because nobody lets me into a restaurant with the dog.”

I gave him plenty of money for more than one meal.

Then I asked, “Is there anything else I could do for you?”

He says, “Yeah; you could give me a job.”

I was not expecting that one.

I said, “I don’t live here. I live in San Jose.”

He says, “If I came down to San Jose, would you give me a job?”

I said, “If you get down to San Jose, I’ll get you a job.”

The conversation went on and I was getting tired and cold.

I said, “Michael, is there anything else I could do for you?”

And he said, “No. You’ve done something

I haven’t had in 6 months: you called me by my name.

I haven’t heard my name in over 6 months.

And nobody ever talks to me;

I’m invisible when I am on the streets.”

My heart sank.

I thought to myself how many Michaels, have I passed in the years

even as a priest. I apologized to him on all our behalf.

Then he asked, “Is there any chance I could get your phone number?”

I thought to myself, giving my phone number to a homeless person

might not be the wisest thing to do.

But I said, “What would you do with my phone number if you got it?”

He said, “I was just thinking that maybe 6 months from now

when I get lonely and nobody has called me by my name,

I could call you and we could talk

and you could just call me by my name.”

I gave him my phone number but he never did call.

As you can imagine I didn’t sleep well that night.

I had dined sumptuously over the last three days

and I had walked past this man I don’t know how many times;

and I had not given him anything;

not even a look;

not even the validation of his humanity.

I was like the rich man in the gospel today.

I know that I walked by many homeless men and women

over the years and I have not looked them in the eye.

I have not seen them as human beings.

I have not recognized them by their name.

And maybe the same thing has happened for you.

In today’s reading, this is the only parable

where Jesus gives a name, Lazarus, the poor man.

That should not be lost on us; that he names Lazarus by name.

I don’t know what the Pharisees were like in their time.

We have approximations but they seem to have an indifference to the poor;

they seem to not recognize their humanity.

I suppose we have that in common.

I suppose that we have become indifferent to the poor;

that we do not even call them by a name.

I don’t know what the answer is.

I don’t know what the solution is to our current societal dilemmas

but I know that staying the way things are is not acceptable.

I do not know what we can do to change it

but I know we must do something;

or try to do something.

When I was at my previous parish, after this event,

a year later I founded a homeless shelter for 15 women

that would sleep in our church for one month and

then it would rotate to another church for another month.

And they would sleep in the church aisles.

We would set it up from 7:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m.

and this was their home.

Then we would move them to a day center.

We had to shut that down for COVID

because it relied completely on volunteers

and most of the volunteers were seniors

and it was too dangerous for everybody.

I don’t know if that is the solution.

It certainly is not a permanent solution.

But it is a solution.

Maybe while we discern what we ought to do as a community

to solve some of the more difficult problems;

maybe we could look at the poor and the homeless differently.

Maybe we could see them as human beings who have names;

and recognize that like Michael

there is very little difference between him and us after all;

a few bad turns in his life and he ends up in the street

in a spiral of poverty he cannot seem to get out of.

Maybe we could just simply recognize

there is not that much difference between them and us.

And we could stop and look at them eye-to-eye

and say hello and ask them their name

if they are willing to give it to us;

recognize their humanity;

and give them a few dollars to make the day a little bit easier on them.

I know it is not a permanent solution

but at least we do something.

In today’s gospel, the rich man is not condemned for what he does.

He is condemned for what he fails to do.

After all, he does not kick Lazarus at the door.

He does not spit on him.

He does not condemn him.

He doesn’t say anything.

He just ignores him.

Lazarus is completely invisible to him.

I wonder if the homeless and immigrants

have not become invisible to us too.

Let’s open our eyes.

Let’s see their humanity.

Let’s recognize them and

at the very least do something if nothing more than

call them by their name and welcome them.

We do not have a permanent solution

but the least we can do is care for them.

Open our eyes and see them.