Charity Along the Way
One of my favorite stories about Father Paul, the founder of the Atonement Friars, was recounted to me by Father Michael, who was his companion and vicar general of the community. The story, which I heard some forty years ag,o has stayed with me throughout my life and ministry.
Some years before the event of the story, the founder had made a vow not to physically touch money. So, the story begins with the two friars walking along one of the avenues in downtown Manhattan, when a man asked the founder for some money. Since Father Paul had vowed not to touch money and, in fact, had no money on his person, he asked his companion, Father Michael, to “give the man an alms.” Looking at the begging man, Father Michael judged that the man was a drinker and that he would probably use the money given to buy more alcohol. (One needs to keep in mind that the founder and Father Michael share a deeply held view of alcohol bordering on prohibition!)
The two friars continue their walk down the avenue. After several blocks, Father Paul asked Father Michael: “Did you give the man an alms?” Father Michael had to admit that he had not and explained his judgement of the man. The story goes that the Founder told the other friar to go back and give him the alms. He explained to Father Michael that giving the alms was a blessing to the friars, no matter what the man did with it.
Almsgiving
The story stayed with me, but I would learn the lesson of the founder over and over again. During my work in Baltimore several years ago I was on my way from my usual parking lot to the Archdiocesan Center. Of course, I had my clergy collar on and was on my way to the Liturgy Office, where I worked. (The retelling of the event always reminds me of the gospel of the priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan on the way to the temple.) A begging man approached me asking for money. My custom was always to have change in my pocket, but never open my wallet on the street. That day I had no change in my pocket and dodging the beggar was not a possibility.
Sure enough, the man asked for money that early morning and I told him that I had none (which was kind of true). He smiled and said to me: “God bless you, Father, you have a good day now.” I had mistaken that I was always the blessing to the beggars in the alley, but that day the beggar was the instrument of God’s blessing for me.
Jubilee Justice
Along with charity comes justice. The