“Per favore, Padre. Posso avere qualcosa
da mangiare?”
The homeless man in front of me would like something to eat. He
asked me for food yesterday, and he is quite likely to ask me again tomorrow.
Same time, same place.
Each weekday along with my seminarian classmates, I walk for
approximately 30 minutes from my home at the Pontifical North American College
(NAC) in Rome to where I attend theology courses at the Pontifical University
of St. Thomas Aquinas. Along the route are some of the most beautiful churches
and monuments of the Eternal City. You can stop in at the Church of the Gesù
and Chiesa Nuova, baroque masterpieces containing the tombs of St. Ignatius of
Loyola and St. Philip Neri, respectively. You can walk across the majestic
Piazza Venezia, see Trajan’s Column, and stroll down the quaint Via Giulia.
Along the route are also some of the many homeless men and women
who sadly populate the streets of this global capital. Some are refugees, some
are Italian. Some are combative, and some are heartbreakingly gracious. Some
are truly indigent, and some are hustlers. Together, they serve as our tenured
faculty in the school of charity, challenging us to go outside of ourselves and
to put others first. After so many interactions, the poor do not remain
strangers. They are Paolo, Maria, Muhammad and Alphonso.
Our Lord tells us that whenever we encounter the least of those
around us, we are serving — or not serving — him. It is a demanding standard
that can only be met with God’s grace. There is something so personal about
walking through a city. During my years in corporate America — commuting each
day in my climate-controlled car, NPR playing quietly — I was unlikely to ever
encounter the poor. Now, I see them up close each day, whether I am feeling
generous or not, whether I am in a rush or not, whether I am having a good day
or not.
At the NAC, we are blessed to have a stocked pantry of food
items, miraculous medals and information brochures for poverty services in the
city to distribute to those we encounter. The handouts are worthwhile. More
worthwhile still are the small dignities that we can show those we encounter.
Will I even smile, give eye contact, or stop to talk or pray with the Christ
who is in front of me today, perhaps distressingly disguised? The wisdom of St.
Teresa of Kolkata provides a helpful encouragement: “Only in heaven will we see
how much we owe to the poor for helping us to love God better because of them.”
Nugent, who is from St. Agnes Church in Arlington, is in his first year of theology
at the Pontifical North American College in Rome.