Body

Thomas Cahill, author of The World before and After Jesus, Desire of the Everlasting Hills, describes a hill in Rome called the Janiculum, and the quarter of Rome beneath it called Trastevere, one of the birthplaces of Christianity.

In was on this hill that a battle was fought 150 years ago in which the Italian army consisted largely of young boys. He then cites the modern genocide of the Armenians, the holocaust of six million Jews, the genocides in central Africa and the “ethnic cleansings” in the Balkans — then asks: “Is our world any better off than the one inhabited by the Celts and Romans of twenty-four centuries ago? Did Jesus make a difference in our world?”

Matthew’s description of the Last Judgment is the only scene of the Second Coming with any details in the Gospels. Sheep and goats are ushered to their opposite designated positions, left and right.

To the sheep the king says, “come, you blessed of my Father…” To the goats he says, “depart from me, you’re cursed…” Then to both groups the Son of Man says: “I was hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, in prison,” and declares that the sheep ministered to his needs and the goats did not.

The kicker is that both groups are surprised at where Jesus was during all this time: “When did we see you?”

And the Son of Man tells them, “I was in others.”

But to the reader’s surprise, the criterion of judgment is not confession of faith in Christ. Nothing is said of grace, justification, or the forgiveness of sins. What counts is whether one has acted with loving care for needy people.

Today, in Trastevere, at the foot of the Janiculum hill, there is a small, unassuming church called the Community of Sant’Egidio. It is an ecumenical community of lay people, founded in 1968 by a handful of Roman high school students who wished to live in Rome as the first Christians had lived there. Today, there are about 10,000 members of the community in Italy who meet every night to worship.

They send out tutors to students in the poor communities. Each night 1,500 homeless people are fed, not on soup lines but at sit-down dinners, served with style and graciousness. Once a week 1,500 substantial bags of groceries are prepared and distributed.

They help resident aliens cut through bureaucratic red tape. They run three refuges for old people, two AIDS hospices, and a home for abused and abandoned children.

They offer free language programs for immigrants, outreach programs for gypsies, and biweekly visits to prisoners.

Each Christmas, they publish for the homeless a handbook entitled “Where to Eat, Sleep and Wash in Rome” and on Christmas afternoon, they open their gates to a great feast for the poor, homeless and elderly of Rome.

Cahill writes: “If there is no magic in the people of Sant’Egidio, there is much goodness. But the only mystery here is the mystery of human will. Anyone on earth could do what they have done.”

Did Jesus make any difference in our world? The community of Sant’Egidio is the answer in a microcosm.

Does Jesus still make a difference in our world? Every day, we each answer that question.

Dorothy Day, the twentieth century, Catholic saint of New York insisted that it is not a duty to give service Christ, but a privilege: “Not for the sake of humanity. Not because it might be Christ who stays with us, comes to see us, and takes ups our time. Not because these people remind us of Christ, but because they are Christ!”