There but for the Grace of God

I received a phone call this evening from a police department in West Vergina. The Detective I spoke with asked me if I knew a man named Richard Adams. I didn't recall the name and told the Detective as much. The Detective then asked if I would be willing to look at a photo, hoping it would jog my memory.

As I waited for the photo to arrive in my email, I began to recall all the people I've seen who have died, either in person or through a photograph. Almost every job I've held has put me in contact with people who've lost their lives under various circumstances.

I was told that Mr. Adams was homeless, and by the looks of him, has been for quite some time. Mr. Adams's body was found by some children playing in the woods. It seems that he had seen a secluded spot and set up camp.

I began to feel bad for Mr. Adams, not knowing him but knowing hundreds of others like him. Since becoming Catholic, I have always tried to help those living on the street as best I can.

After remarks made by His Holiness, Pope Francis, in August 2024, I've become more involved with helping others: "Let us not forget what will happen in the Final Judgment: the Lord will not ask us, "What did you study? How many degrees did you have? How many accomplishments have you brought?" No, no: "Come, come with me," the Lord will say, "for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was persecuted and you kept me." This is the theme of the final examination on which we will be judged."

These are wise words from the Holy Father. We must learn to let go of our attachments, such as what degrees we hold, what car we drive, and whether we are the best dressed. These things don't matter when we stand before God. What matters is what we did for Christ, to Christ, when we encountered Him in others.

Matthew 25:35-40 New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition:

35 for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.' 37 Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38 And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39 And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?' 40 And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.'

When I received the email and opened the attached photo, I recognized the man I was looking at. When I met him near the Scottish Rite Temple in Downtown El Paso, Richard Adams said to call him Dave because he was a junior and didn't particularly like that his father had the same name.

I bought lunch for him at McDonald's. We sat outside and shared a meal together, and Dave began to tell me a little about his life.

Dave had been on the streets since he was sixteen years old. His parents, devout Jehovah's Witnesses, kicked him out of the house because he had committed a grave sin in the eyes of his faith, and his family - he had a girlfriend who was not a Jehovah's Witness, and had gotten pregnant, and was smoking cigarettes on top of it all.

One Sunday, before Church, Dave and his parents met with the Elders of their congregation. Dave said that he felt everyone was against him. In the end, because he said he would not stop seeing his girlfriend or stop smoking, he was disfellowshipped. Two days later, his father met Dave at the door of their home with a small, packed bag and told him never to return.

I never saw Dave again, but I did leave him with $50 and my phone number. I offered to help him however I could, but he never called. I told all of this to the Detective, and he commented that it was a shame Dave's parents did this to him.

When we were almost done with our meal, I asked Dave where he was heading. He said he would head towards West Virginia, hoping his parents had softened and would at least talk to him. He never made it. I was told that his parents died last year, about three months apart.

"How can a religious faith condone such rubbish?" The Detective asked me. I couldn't give him an answer.

When we see someone on the side of the road or outside a grocery store begging for food or money, we really don't know their intentions. Often, we think they just want the money so they can buy drugs or get drunk to pass the night. I understand not wanting to contribute to someone's habit, but we should try to meet some of their needs.

When I encounter someone needing food or begging for money, I stop and talk to them. Spending five or ten minutes in conversation will go a long way toward lifting their spirits and helping them understand what they need. More often than not, I am asked if I could buy them lunch or dinner, and I will.

Buying them something to eat shouldn't be the end of your time with them. No. Don't only buy them food or a meal, but share it with them. Sit with them, continue to talk to them. As Dave told me, near the end of our lunch, he said my eating with him made him feel like a human again.

You can also talk to your parish priest about starting a food pantry at your Church. My parish, the Basilica of San Albino, accepts donations of dry goods that it later distributes to those who need food. Your parish could do the same thing.

I also keep a few prepaid flip-phones in my truck. Sometimes, you'll discover that the person you are talking to or eating with just wants to call home. Those Walmart prepaid phones come in handy for moments like that.

You could also create a list of resources for the homeless in your area. These could include foodbanks, shelters, rehab centers, and the like. That list may help to get someone off the street.

A note about homeless shelters. Many of those on the street try to avoid shelters because of the crime, violence, and drug use that happens in many of them. When I was in El Paso, working as a reporter there, I lost count of the number of times Police were dispatched to a shelter because of those issues.

Lastly, pray for them and with them. You would be surprised at the number of people I've encountered who would love someone to pray with and for them.

I'm sure you've heard this expression, and you may have even said it yourself after avoiding a near-mishap from a frightening experience or even a catastrophe: "There, but for the grace of God, go I." In saying this, we acknowledge external factors, such as the grace of God, which may have helped us avoid a similar fate or catastrophic event that afflicted someone less fortunate. But where did this phrase originate?

It was thought to be credited to a mid-16th-century statement by John Bradford: "There, but for the grace of God, goes John Bradford." This was referring to a group of prisoners being led to their execution. Bradford was eventually burned at the stake for alleged crimes against Mary Tudor. He did not avoid execution.

Initially, the statement was meant to express sympathy. However, it makes me question whether, in saying it, we are truly empathetic or if we subconsciously think we are luckier than others. After all, it might seem that God has granted us more grace than those less fortunate. If I’m being honest, I might have made a similar statement when encountering a homeless person or someone in need. There is a certain relief in believing that the choices I have made in my life have kept me from facing the same fate as Dave.

Prayer for Forgotten Souls

O merciful God, take pity on those souls who have no particular friends and intercessors to recommend them to Thee, who, either through the negligence of those who are alive, or through the length of time are forgotten by their friends and by all. Spare them, O Lord, and remember Thine own mercy, when others forget to appeal to it. Let not the souls which Thou hast created be parted from thee, their Creator. May the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Amen.