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I've been emailing with one of my Jesuit mentors, an 83 year old priest who works with folks experiencing/recovering from homelessness and addiction. He's also spent a lot of time around the world doing refugee aid work.
He's one of the legends of our province, and generations of Jesuits who have worked with him all kind of smile gently when his name comes up. Within 30 seconds of meeting him, you know he's the real deal. He sets you at ease the way I imagine Christ did. Quiet. Loving. Accepting.
We worked together serving tables at a food kitchen for a few months when I was a novice, and I still reflect on that time and his example. He often had more energy than I did while being almost 50 years older. He has a grace and dignity that I aspire to.
Anyway, we've been talking about my next assignment, and he's been sharing some stories of his own similar work in various regions. He's been in lots of conflict and war zones, doing the painfully hard work of helping people rebuild shattered lives.
He lives in Portland now, and was telling me how hard it is to see and hear the protests without being able to be present. He says (and trust me that he has no performative nature, so this is completely honest), "I don't care about myself but cannot risk infecting the community."
Even at 83, his first instinct is to go be with the people on the streets, the ones protesting and clamoring for justice. But he also has a responsibility to his community, where other vulnerable Jesuits live. A lot of us are feeling that tension right now.
His most recent email to me closed with this, and his last line is why I wrote this thread. I'm taking it to prayer as I remember the career he's had (and still has) and hoping I can be half as good a Jesuit as he's been.
