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When Did We See You, Lord?
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Preface by Michael Dubruiel Introduction by Bishop Robert J. Baker Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel, C.F.R.
Matthew 25:31-46
Chapter One: “For I was hungry and you gave me food . . .” Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel Meditations by Bishop Robert J. Baker I. Pride: I could never do that. II Envy: What do I have to offer? III. Anger: Let them feed themselves. IV. Sloth: Where are the hungry? V. Avarice: I hunger for material things. VI. Gluttony: When have I really experienced any pangs of hunger? VII. Lust: My hunger is insatiable.
Chapter Two: “For I was thirsty and you gave me drink . . .” Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel Meditations by Bishop Robert J. Baker I. Pride: I don’t give money to drunks. II. Envy: Why should I give a drink to someone who thinks they’re better than me? III. Anger: That’s it. I give up! IV. Sloth: Let someone else give them a drink. V. Avarice: I’ve got mine. VI. Gluttony: I don’t want to share. VII. Lust: I desire more.
Chapter Three: “For I was a stranger and you welcomed me . . .” Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel Meditations by Bishop Robert J. Baker I. Pride: There goes the neighborhood! II Envy: No one welcomed me! III. Anger: Who can trust anyone these days? IV. Sloth: Let someone else welcome them. V. Avarice: They’re taking our jobs! VI. Gluttony: There is not enough for [both] the stranger and us. VII. Lust: Others exist for my benefit.
Chapter Four: “For I was naked and you clothed me . . .” Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel Meditations by Bishop Robert J. Baker I. Pride: You’ll never help me! II Envy: I must have that! III. Anger: I’m tired of being taken advantage of. IV. Sloth: Am I my brother’s keeper? V. Avarice: I may not have enough clothing for myself. VI. Gluttony: Look at all I have. VII. Lust: I dress as I please.
Chapter Five: “For I was sick and you visited me . . .” Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel Meditations by Bishop Robert J. Baker I. Pride: I don’t stop for strangers. II Envy: I wish I had the good health of others! III. Anger: Lord, if you had only been here! IV. Sloth: I’ll visit them tomorrow. V. Avarice: I could sue them. VI. Gluttony: I bury my fear with food or drink. VII. Lust: It’s their word against mine.
Chapter Six: “For I was in prison and you came to me . . .” Introduction by Father Benedict J. Groeschel Meditations by Bishop Robert J. Baker I. Pride: I don’t see them. II Envy: They have it too good. III. Anger: They deserve to be there! IV. Sloth: I don’t have time. V. Avarice: It’s hard to see Christ in that one. VI. Gluttony: Throw the book at them! VII. Lust: I can’t forgive.
Afterword: What Should I Do? by Father Benedict J. Groeschel
Father Benedict J. Groeschel, C.F.R.
When my friend Michael Dubruiel asked me to write part of a book with Bishop Robert J. Baker, who had a year before become Bishop of Charleston, I replied that I hardly knew him, but I had heard that he had a great love for the poor. I also said that I was getting old, was overburdened with work, and had several books lined up in my mind with little time to write them.
When I learned the nature of Bishop Baker’s book and my expected contribution, however, I could not resist, because I feel strongly that many needy people constantly fail to get the assistance they need and deserve as human beings. I also feel that many well-meaning people would lead happier lives if they made the effort to help those in need around them. I’m convinced the spiritual lives of many Christians would be vastly enriched, and they would make greater progress as disciples of Christ, if they were involved in hands-on works of charity and made real sacrifices to share what they have received from the Lord. The grace of love for the needy is one of the most precious and spiritually enriching gifts one can receive from God.
Bishop Baker’s writing confronts the real reasons people do not consistently do the works of love, by focusing on the sinful tendencies of fallen human nature called the Capital Sins. You may not be familiar with the list, but when you think about these seven narcissistic drives, you will recognize them very well. When St. Paul calls us to fight the good fight, these tendencies are the enemies he is speaking of. They will cause us to try to wiggle out of every obligation of charity; when, with the help of grace and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we resist them, we walk a few steps with Our Beloved Savior. These seven tendencies are the lasting effects of Original Sin, a reality that most people don’t take seriously enough — unless they live in a place like I do (New York City)!
It is a conviction of mine that the decision to be kind and generous in response to the Gospel is a very specific grace — a call from God. Don’t get angry with those who appear to be stingy and unconcerned about others. They may not have received this grace. It is part of human nature to have compassion; all fairly sane people have it. Compassion is necessary for any human society to survive because, even in the best of circumstances, three or four percent of the population are too mentally disturbed or emotionally disorganized to be able to manage their own lives. Others, by reason of circumstance or lack of opportunity, may need a hand in economically hard times. A human society cannot remain human unless people exercise the natural virtue of compassion.
But religious people need to go above and beyond this natural virtue; almost all religions specifically call for acts of kindness and humanity. The Bible makes this a serious human obligation and promises that God rewards the generous and punishes the selfish. Our Savior goes even further, in that He teaches that what we do to those in need — acts of mercy and compassion — are done to Him. And He warns that those who fail to be compassionate and generous face eternal punishment (cf. Mt. 25:31-46).
Nothing could be clearer in the Gospel than that charity is not an elective procedure. Those who bear the name “Christian” but do not invest themselves in charity, in whatever way they can, are — according to so gentle a soul as Mother Teresa — in grave spiritual danger. Along with Our Lord, the New Testament writers and all the saints of the Church say the same thing. The great Catholic saints of modern times, Padre Pio and Mother Teresa, the more recent American Saints and candidates for canonization St. Frances Xavier Cabrini, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, St. Katharine Drexel, St. Rose Phillipine Duchesne, the Venerable Father Solanus Casey, Mother Rose Hawthorne and Father Nelson Baker are all, without exception, witnesses to the power of Christian charity to bless those who give as well as those who receive.
Being Called to Charity I can attest to the fact that the best call to charity comes from one’s own experiences as a child. My own parents gave me the example. We lived in a neighborhood with old big houses where many people, especially older women, lived in modestly furnished rooms or in little apartments. My mother kept some money on hand to help them when they needed it; I recall, on more than one occasion, seeing various ladies leave our modest home with tears in their eyes and smiles on their lips.
Even more impressive was my being sent with slices of newly baked cake, wrapped up carefully in waxed paper, to shut-ins, especially Fanny. She was a poor soul who had lived all of her life with spina bifida and cerebral palsy in a little room in her sister’s home. She listened all day to a Christian radio station, and I could tell that she was a woman of great faith and prayer, even though she could only speak a few words. I remember on the day that I left for the monastery, I went with my black suit and tie to say goodbye to Fanny. I wouldn’t be home again for nine years, and Fanny would have gone to her well-earned reward — but I know that she was praying for me. It was many years later that I realized that her joy was much more than getting a slice of vanilla layer cake; it was having a visitor. “I was sick and you visited me.”
Charity Can Change Your Life
In those old days of great faith, I was almost entirely educated, up to the senior year of high school, by wonderful nuns. It has become chic to make fun of nuns in the media — but I can say that, with few exceptions, the sisters that I knew were most dedicated and self-sacrificing souls. Sure, a few were a bit crabby, but most were fulfilling the challenging job of teaching fifty or more students in an excellent way. Of the twenty most productive and intelligent people I have ever known, as a matter of fact, at least eleven of them were nuns of the old style — and some of these, I’m sure, were saints.
Perhaps the first great grace that I received, after having a good Christian home, was Sister Teresa Maria. She was a Sister of Charity of Convent Station for well over 60 years and taught the second grade with absolute patience and charity. I looked forward every day to going to her class at Our Lady of Victory School in Jersey City. I noticed that, every day, Sister Teresa left the convent with a box or tray and went to a poor tenement on the shopping street. The barber we went to had his shop at the same building. When I got my hair cut, I asked Giuseppi the barber what the sister did every day when she came. I learned that she took care of an elderly, ill woman on the top floor.
I decided to investigate what was going on and went to the back of the tenement, where there was a wooden porch that served as a fire escape. On the second landing, I found tomato plants in rusty cans — where Italians must have lived. On the third floor, I found a lot of beer bottles — those neighbors must have been Irish. On the fourth floor, the porch was empty except for a steel milk box. I climbed up on the box and looked into a face unlike any I’d ever seen . . . about three inches away!
Now at this time, it’s important to remember that I was only seven and had just seen Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (this was in the days when Walt Disney was still going strong and his films were parables of goodness, rather than attacks on morality and denunciations of the Catholic clergy). In that movie, Snow White was almost killed by a wicked and ugly witch whose face was burned into my young mind because it was so unlike the kind faces of older women I had always known.
But there I was, looking into the face of the wicked witch right there in the tenement window. My heart stopped, because I knew what happened to Snow White. I jumped off of the milk box and ran down the stairs in terror, knocking over beer bottles and tomato plants, and all the way up the street to the church. I dashed to the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, knelt down — to this day, the memory is so vivid that I can still see the blue vigil lights twinkling on the altar — and started praying with everything I had to Our Lord and His Mother. Suddenly, a question came into my mind.
How come the “witch” didn’t hurt Sister Teresa? The answer was obvious: because Sister Teresa was kind to her. I waited for a few minutes — very important minutes in my life — and suddenly something in my mind said, “Be a priest.” Well, I was planning to be a fireman . . . but being a priest was okay, too. The message was clear enough in my mind that I looked at the rectory, which was a bit foreboding, and went home slightly discouraged because I would have to live there if I was going to be a priest. Foreboding or not, since that day, I have never once thought of being anything else but a priest.
Sister Teresa attended my first Mass eighteen years later, when I told this story in my sermon. I heard from another sister that the old woman, Miss Petit, was very anti-Catholic and never called her “Sister,” even though Sister cared for her until her death three years later. But I never forgot that early example. Since then, my single greatest source of joy and human happiness has been to care for the poor and needy, especially victims of prejudice and poverty. I never had to look for Jesus; I knew where He could be found. My regret is that sometimes, preoccupied with my own concerns, I have let Him pass me by. Saint Augustine wrote that before his conversion he worried about loving many things, his money, his career, his girlfriends. But once converted, he said that the only fear he really had was “Jesus passing by.”
Train yourself to see Him in His many disguises. The list of human needs He gives in the parable of the Last Judgment will be your best learning opportunity, even if you tend to be shy and self possessed — try it, and the poor will accept you and call you out of yourself.
Maybe you are afraid of being cheated and misled by dishonest people pretending to be poor. This is a real and valid concern; I figure anyone working with the poor and needy will get ripped off about twelve percent of the time. But to put that ripoff in perspective, think of this: if ever we could reduce the amount that government cheats us out of to only twelve percent, we’d have a very prosperous society! Perhaps you feel that you could make better use of your time than to help the poor. Forget it. Whatever you do for the poor, whether they deserve it or not, you do for Christ. Not only will He be waiting for you at the hour of death, but even in this world, you will find Him even when you are taken advantage of — because what we do, we do for Him, not for anyone else.
Trinity Retreat House, Larchmont, NY, February 2, 2005 Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord
“When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will place the sheep at his right hand, but the goats at the left. Then the King will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee drink? And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see thee hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to thee?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.’ And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”
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