September 27, 2007

 

Sweeping the front steps of the friary is a great way to meet the neighbors. I often tell our postulants before they receive their religious habit that they will soon begin a quiet yet important apostolate which will continue throughout their religious life, that is, smiling and saying “hello” to complete strangers. Since we look utterly medieval and most people think we’re monks who don’t talk, it’s our job to initiate an encounter by breaking the ice with a bright smile and warm greeting.

 

Last month I was sweeping outside the front door of our friary− not to meet people, but simply to clean up after an extraordinarily fertile crabapple tree that spends some time being pretty, but more time being messy. That morning I was sweeping up scores of cherry sized apples which fall to the pavement and turn into a nasty sauce, especially in the hot summer sun. I wasn’t sweeping five minutes before two people came through our stone entryway. I immediately recognized Linda, a neighbor who is drug addicted and has often come to our door asking for food. Her friend, whose name is Elliot, unfortunately shares the same boat as Linda. They were both worse for the wear.

 

I thought they were going to ask for something to eat, but it was Elliot who asked for some cold water. It was stifling hot outside; they both looked like they spent the night on the street. Only God knows the drama of some of our neighbors! I immediately went inside to get two large plastic tumblers filed with ice cold water. Linda enjoyed her drink sitting on our sun drenched front steps while Elliot and I stood a few feet away in the shade of the crabapple tree. Elliot emptied the tumbler within seconds and gave a loud sigh of relief. When he finished, he loudly sighed “thank you, Father Glenn.” I didn’t expect him to remember my name, but his small sign of respect gave a green light to proceed with a bit of honesty. I took his bare arm and examined it like a doctor. As I softly tapped my finger along the bulging vein on his forearm, I said in a whisper, “Elliot, you do know you’re killing yourself.” “I know,” was his only answer.

 

Drug addiction is certainly not new to the world, but it is somewhat new to our world. What was once known only to physicians is now familiar to first graders. In America, illegal drug use was hidden and generally circumscribed, yet today it can be called “popular,” that is, widespread and worldwide. Before the early sixties and the advent of psychedelic drugs, “a bad trip” meant a flat tire or injurious fall, “pot” meant a belly hanging over a belt buckle, “coke” was a brand of soda, and “crack” was something dad gave me when I misbehaved. Yes, the world has changed.

 

Yet, while drug abuse is a terrible scourge on society, beginning with the family, addiction is an ancient monster with many heads: drinking, gambling, gaming, shopping, working, sporting, exercising or eating. Ordinary human activities can become addictive and therefore destructive when we give them an extraordinary importance and allow them to consume just too much of our energy, interest and money. These things can quietly become the center of our attention. They limit our freedom, displace responsibilities, negatively affect relationships, and diminish our physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual health.

 

Before Elliot and Linda made their leave, we stood in a small circle to pray. I began, “Lord God, help us in our pain, liberate us from those choices which limit our freedom and lessen our joy, grant us the grace we need to regain the dignity and the liberty we possess in You…” After our Amen and embrace, they went on their way, and I went back to my broom. As I swept up the crabapples which had turned the cement beneath blood-red, I couldn’t help but think of Christ and His cross and His blood shed for our salvation. Linda, Elliot, you and I−we each have our chains which bind us, yet each of us has the Mercy which can break them. “Yes, Lord God, help and heal us all.”

 

Fr. Glenn Sudano, CFR

Most Blessed Sacrament Friary

Newark, NJ

 

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