To begin this post, allow me to quote again from the selection from “God Is Near Us” (by Joseph Ratzinger) which inspired this series:
"What strengthens our faith, what remains constant, what gives us hope, is the Church of the suffering - whether these witnesses had to die for their faith or whether they had to let themselves be trampled on, day after day and year after year, for his sake. The Church of the suffering gives credibility to Christ: she is God’s success in the world."
Now allow me to introduce you to Justin, another example of “God’s success in the world:”
Justin faithfully keeps watch at the front door of the local men’s shelter. In every weather, he sits out, legs crossed, seemingly waiting for something. He’s never unfriendly - he graciously receives my greeting, will politely answer questions, smiles at the conversations he overhears, and shares his lighter with the other guys who come out for a smoke. But there is a sort of quietness that surrounds him which I’m reluctant to try to penetrate. He seems so perfectly content - why should I disturb him? After all, as friends who are in the throes of young-parenthood have told me, “Don’t make happy people happy.” So our interactions are often limited to a greeting and smile upon my arrival and departure.
Recently, however, there was a quiet day when Justin and I were alone for a little while. I dared a somewhat personal observation: “Justin - to sit here so still all day, you must have a real inner space you can retreat to.” He lit up with a big grin, “Yes! That’s right! I do!” I pressed on, “Is that a consequence of faith, or discipline?” He thought a moment, then said, “Both - faith and discipline together.”
So we chatted about that - how faith motivates discipline, how discipline reinforces faith. He shared a little about his Christian faith and knowledge of God’s goodness and I shared about my own attempts to be disciplined in developing my own inner space. It was a beautiful conversation, which quietly and gently concluded as others entered the space.
I spent a while longer speaking with other men at the shelter before heading on. Justin made a point to see me off, and was profusely thankful for our conversation. I assured him that the pleasure was mine, and I’d learned a lot, we shared a smile, and I let him return to his inner space, grateful for having shared it with him for a few precious moments.
- Sr. Agnes Therese Davis, T.O.R.
