Bartimaeus in today's Gospel

Actually, I wrote this last night and am only posting it today, hence it is out of liturgical sync.

I love the story of the blind beggar who kept crying out for Jesus' attention there on the roadside in Jericho, and who, once he could see, followed Jesus "on the way." (And note well: Jesus was heading to Jerusalem and his death!)

Today I found myself wondering if people who do not live or work in a downtown area can really "get" the scene of this Gospel event. On my way to Mass, I passed four beggars in one block--and it was a short block. Most are regulars, although there was a new one working the lightpost by the popcorn shop. A fifth person in that same block was not exactly a beggar, since he was offering for sale the bi-weekly newspaper that is specifically published to give people a "leg up" from living in the streets. He held a paper out to me and asked, "Did you get yours today?" When I told him I didn't have any money, he replied very politely, "Then say a prayer for me," which I did as I continued on to St. Peter's.

We have a couple of blind beggars in the Loop, too. One even has a tin cup. The other doesn't count as a beggar, because he sells the paper. He stands on Michigan Avenue, ramrod straight, and repeats the title of the paper (Streetwise), but in a way that makes me think he may also have a hearing impairment.

Earlier in the week, I crossed paths with another person who seemed to be homeless. He was walking somewhat aimlessly down Randolph St, but when he passed by me he automatically shook his paper cup of coins in my direction.

The paper cups, usually a Starbucks Grande, generate a lot of the background sound here in the Loop. Depending on the size and quantity of coins, there is a kind of rustle or rattle. There are on average, three paper cups per city block and one or two newspaper sellers. The other day I crossed a new seller, a woman, whose handicapped son sat in a small folding chair next to her, drooling on the ground as he slapped his toy lion over and over on the sidewalk. I thought of that woman's determination to provide for her son in any way she could. That was one heroic lady.

I think a lot of our cup-shakers are hustlers of one kind or another. They will play any game you want. Some of them give me the creeps. (It didn't help that a few months back the Tribune highlighted a street person who is charged with 13 violent attacks against women, most of them perpetrated within a block or two of us.)

Fr. Groeschel said he would always slip some quarters in his pockets for the street people, lest the Lord bring the matter up at the great tribunal. Goodness knows, we don't have any extra quarters hanging around, nor could I bring myself to giving them to some of these characters, but I do try to give them a greeting and an acknowledgement, a kind of recognition of their humanity. Sometimes they mistake this for an opening toward a handout, and that makes it all the more difficult. Sometimes, of course, my habit makes me a target for requests or expectations that I can't meet. For some reason, even when there is a group of us together, the street people all turn to me! It is something of the community joke. I guess they think I'm the superior, because I'm the oldest. I don't know. It does weigh on me. But that's the scene of today's Gospel. No wonder the bystanders had to tell Bartimaeus that Jesus was calling for him. In the hub-bub, with all the beggars hoping to be heard and noticed, the blind man wouldn't have been able to return Jesus' glance. Wouldn't have known that he had caught Jesus' eye.