To the Sentinel:
When time allows, I attend the 12:05 p.m. Mass at St. Michael’s as do many office workers. This parish offers reconciliation every day.
Those who have just received the body of Christ are suddenly juxtaposed with those who will soon receive the love of Christ from the volunteers of St. Michael’s who feed them a lunchtime meal. It’s nearly impossible not to feel a little unworthy. The other day, I overheard part of a conversation between two homeless women waiting for lunch. The one talking looked to be in her mid-40s. Something she said with a slight optimistic lilt in her voice has haunted me these last few days.
“The only thing that gives me hope is that this can’t go on forever. One day I will die and this will all be over.”
There are volumes of catechesis in her simple statement. This life cannot go on forever. No matter how good it is or how desperate, eventually it does end. I don’t know where in her faith journey this woman was, but it sounded like she knew it would be better on the other side. Her simple voice of hope proclaimed that the ultimate answer to life would not be found in this existence, and at that moment, I believe she was closer to Christ than me and a good many of the daily communicants who walked past her and returned to their offices.
Blessed are the poor.

David Jackson
Hillsboro