sleeping in the entryway

We're taking a very short day today, to give Heather's sore ankle a rest. And we did get a good night's sleep last night, out of the rain, in a church vestibule.

It was an odd scene when we introduced ourselves to the priest at the church. He didn't want to send us away with storms threatening, but he also was nervous about "getting in trouble" with church members if they found out he let us sleep there. To make matters worse, there was "perpetual adoration" going on in the prayer chapel, so people would be coming and going from the church all night. The priest finally decided to let us sleep inside in a vestibule that wouldn't be used that night. But he told us to be very careful not to be seen. We thanked him, found some cushions to soften the stone floor, and slept well.

I thought about it this morning, though. About how the eucharist was on display for people to adore, but we were carefully (even fearfully) hidden away. About how people feel so good about gazing on Jesus in religious symbols or imagery, but when he appears as "one of the least of these" we don't want to look.

Perhaps that's because it's so easy to admire and adore a religious image, then go our way feeling edified. But when we come face to face with Jesus in "the least of these my brethren," someone who is in need or suffering because they are following Jesus (who himself lived in need and suffered), someone who has run afoul of society (as Jesus did), we have to do something, something very difficult. We can't just admire and feel edified. We have to take a risk and involve ourselves, or else turn our backs on them.

And we may even be faced with the much greater challenge of following Jesus ourselves into the way of need and suffering.