Radical Compassion: Finding Christ in the Heart of the Poor

The older guys have a wisdom that is born not of desperation but of an acceptance of their status and an unwillingness to continue to con themselves. There is a point in one’s self-realized poverty where humility and truth make their entry. Power and its little brothers, honor and reputation, are the agenda of the young. This agenda blinds them and

He wanted to express his gratitude for what I had done, for my being with him in his time of crisis.

It was an embrace as tender and gentle as I have ever seen. Judy died the next morning, in the arms of her beloved.

At one time in his life he wanted to be in a religious order, but his mental health prevented it; nevertheless, his prayer life was rich and edifying. I think some of his happiest moments were the days he spent at a local monastery.

“When I see a man ... I see the only entity in nature with which sanctity is associated. The particular individual may not be dear to me—in fact, I may even dislike him. But he is dear to someone else, to his mother, for example, although that, too, is not the reason for his eminence. For even if nobody cares for him, he is still a human being.”

I believe that God continues to love us regardless of who we are and what we do. But I know, too, that God’s unwavering love also gives us freedom, and that freedom comes with responsibility.

Occasionally in life one meets an individual who leaves an indelible imprint on the soul. Noel was such a person for me. He touched me with his holiness, for I always felt stronger and more in touch with life when Noel told me that he was praying for me. And I will always remember his laughter, whether it was ringing down a street out of the sheer

it’s hard living on the streets. And there are some people that don’t understand homelessness. Some of them get treated like shit. It’s sometimes cold outside, but not as cold as people. I am now recovering from alcoholism and drug addiction. But I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from physical and mental abuse. I’ve also been afraid of making a fam

These moments at the jail are sobering journeys into human hearts, through electric doors and the barriers produced by human pain. Jail is a place where a word can land you in isolation, where a sucker punch can be right around the corner, where grinding loneliness and only momentary flashes of hope exist, and where bitterness about life is worn li