Jesus the Beggar

I hardly slept at all last night.  I cried intermittently all night, and if I'm not careful, I might cry now.

This unusual experience started during Mass yesterday (but I can see precursors over the past few weeks.)  I believe I was in a state of true contemplation.  From the moment of Consecration I was drawn in by the mysteries of our Redemption.  I couldn't even move after Communion, and I was still kneeling about two minutes after the postlude ended.  It was one of those very rare times when I could leave myself behind and follow our Lord wherever He would lead.

This is what I take from the experience:

• Jesus humbled himself to the point of becoming a piece of bread and a cup of wine.  And, He was tortured and brutally murdered.  How could anything we mortals have to endure possibly be as difficult as that?
• If GOD can become bread, I surely ought to be able to walk into Dunkin Donuts and ask for an application.
• If I had to answer right now the question, "When did we see thee hungry...?" I would have to answer:  When I didn't give that lady a cigarette.  When I didn't give that guy so much as a quarter when I was outside the bar (never mind the fact that I didn't actually enter said bar.)  The instances are Legion, but you get the point.

How can I ever serve in persona Christi if I can't even look at the people around me and say, "I am one of you.  I don't just feel your pain; I experience your pain"?

This is the scary fact that makes me cry:

• I can say the Apostles' Creed without crossing my fingers.
• I go to Mass every Sunday and sometimes during the week.
• I serve at the altar frequently.

But, if I can't serve Jesus in the person sitting beside me, it means nothing.