One day I visited the Saint Patrick Church in New York. A young Brazilian man approached me. He smiled and said, “How nice to meet you here. I really need to tell you something.” I invited him to have a cup of coffee with me. , I told him the nuisance my trip to Denver had been and suggested him a visit to the Harlem on Sunday in order to listen to a religious service.
The young man, who should be around 20 years old, listened to me silently. I told him how I had just finished reading a fiction book about a terrorist group that does a holdup at the Saint Patrick’s Church. And how well the author described the scenery — that it caught my attention to many things I had never seen in my visits to the place before. Hence, I had taken the decision to visit the church that morning. We spent almost an hour together. At the end, we said goodbye and I wished him a good trip. “Thank you,” he said, as he left.
That was when I noticed that his eyes were sad. I realised that this young man had wanted to talk to me. During the time we were together, I took control over the situation and the conversation. By trying to be friendly, I filled up all the space and didn’t allow a moment of silence. Perhaps, he had something very important to share with me. Perhaps, if at that moment I were really open to life I would also have something to give to him. Perhaps, so much my life, as well as his, could have changed radically after that meeting.
But ever since, I try to keep alive in my memory the scene of my departure and the sad eyes of that young man. That was the time when I didn’t know how to receive what was destined for me, I was not able to give what I wanted to. The priest, José Roberto, from the Resurrection Church of Rio de Janeiro was leaving early one morning, when his car was surrounded by three teenagers. “We spent the night away, priest,” said one of them in a defiant tone. “Can you imagine where we have been to?”
Like any normal human being, José Roberto preferred to keep quiet. He imagined what a night awake in that city means, he felt afraid for the chances these boys must have taken, he thought of the worry of their parents. The teenager who started the conversation ended up answering his own question: “We stayed at the Nossa Senhora de Copacabana Church, adoring the Virgin. We came out from there so euphoric walking up to here, singing high, laughing, talking to everyone. At least one person asked us: “how is it that all of you, so young, aren’t ashamed to be drunk at this hour in the morning?”
The priest José Roberto started his car and went to his appointment. On the way he asked himself many times: “I too judged them by their appearance and I committed an injustice in my heart. I wonder if any human being will ever understand Jesus’ sentence “For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you?”
Translated by Bettina Dungs
