Bro. Tyler Grudi, OFM, offered this reflection about “Jesus at the Door” about serving this past summer at the St. Francis Inn in the Kensington section of Philadelphia.
Bro. Tyler is currently a student at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and has worked in ministry in Chicago, Philadelphia, and Jamaica. He studied journalism at St. Bonaventure University and plans to profess final vows as a friar next year. He currently works in ministry at St. Teresa of Avila Church on Chicago’s North Side and as a facilitator of a Franciscan Justice Circle.
Many people come to our door at St. Francis Inn in the Kensington neighborhood of Philadelphia asking for all sorts of things: a cup of water, a snack, schedules for services we offer, a phone charge, socks, or someone to talk to. I think it only took me a day to memorize the little jingle that plays when the doorbell is rung and believe me, it doesn’t always sound as cheerful the fiftieth time as it did the first. Some days, caught up in a selfish attitude, I pretend I can’t hear the bell ring. “Maybe someone else will get it,” I try to convince myself. But every time I go to answer the door, I’m confronted by a bright sign with a big yellow smiley face. “Smile,” it reminds me, “Jesus is at the door.”
I’ve thought of this sign at various points throughout my time here this summer, but especially this past week as thousands of Catholics in the United States participated in the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis. While I couldn’t attend, some of my Franciscan brothers joined the celebrations. I read many beautiful reflections about what the Eucharist meant to people and how the events of the congress inspired deeper faith and devotion to Jesus in the Eucharist. And while I found much of this inspirational, I kept thinking about that sign. “Jesus is at the door.”
The Eucharistic Congress aimed to revitalize faith in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. And despite all the reported unbelief in the real presence, I still think we as Catholics are quicker to reverence Jesus in the consecrated host than we are to recognize him in the pleas of the oppressed, in the weaknesses and struggles of the poor. Sometimes it’s easier for me to see an all-powerful God in food that nourishes than in vulnerable people who suffer and ask for my help. And yet Jesus is as present in the breaking of the bread as he is in the poor we are called to break bread with.
“Jesus is at the door.”
This is not just a challenge for our times but has been a challenge for the church from the very beginning.
One of the earliest scriptural references to the Lord’s Supper is Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, where he expresses his disappointment that the Corinthians have been excluding the poor in their Eucharistic celebrations. He says that since some get drunk and fill themselves with bread, and others go away hungry, it is not actually the Lord’s Supper that they celebrate. “Do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing?” asks Paul. “What can I say to you? Shall I praise you? In this matter I do not praise you.”
It seems there was a similar problem among the dispersed communities James wrote to in his letter, where the rich were being privileged over the poor in their communal gatherings. “Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonored the poor person.”
