Door of Hope

It’s so exciting that in the Jubilee Year the holy doors are opened, and special graces fall upon us as we walk through them. Jesus the Good Shepherd said, “I am the door” (John 10: 8). He is the way into heaven, the way into the Father’s heart. The father knows and loves each of us intimately. He can see through any mask, any hardship and hard exterior, any anxiety or embarrassment. And He uses us to be His hands and eyes, His smile - the hands that open the door of hope, the eyes that see with the Father’s vision and the smile that communicates His love.

Mother Lucille with Children and Families at the Door - 1989, South Bronx

This is the experience of answering the door at the convent. Almost every convent, in our Capuchin tradition, makes their door available to the poor. They can come and receive the love of the Father. We provide for them materially through the generosity of benefactors and spiritually and maternally through our presence. It has become one of my favorite apostolates.

            We meet all kinds of people of different ages and backgrounds with unique stories and challenges. In the past 2 years a woman, we’ll call her Rose, has been coming to our door. She has a mental illness diagnosis that is controlled, and when she started coming she was using drugs and abusing alcohol.  She has always been friendly and open to prayer. She has shared various parts of her story over these past few years and finds more and more comfort speaking with us. In the last six months she was able to quit using drugs and alcohol and is trying to get her life back in order.

            Unfortunately, recently Rose ended up in a difficult situation and made a poor decision that will have far-reaching consequences that she cannot yet admit. We had spoken of the decision before she went through with it, and I had encouraged her to make a different choice. A few weeks later Rose returned and blurted out, “I did it.” The reasons for her decision poured out of her amidst tears. She had a posture of defending and almost of protecting herself. I simply reached out, or rather through that posture, and hugged her and held her as she cried. She then said, “I wasn’t sure if you’d serve me or talk to me anymore because you had told me not to do it.”  I assured Rose that she has found love here, even in the mess of mistakes and sins and invited her to speak of her situation. She has not been able to speak of it yet, but she is secure once more in her belonging here.

Watercolor by Sr. John Paul

            While I cannot change what Rose has done and she cannot face it yet, we are on this journey together and our door becomes a place of belonging no matter where one is on the road of life. Through our time together, I have been able to share the love of the Father with Rose so that a little farther down the path, when the reality of her decision hits her, she’ll know where to turn in her need for hope. The Father’s arms will be open wide waiting for her to embrace and hold her, to wipe her tears and to assure her of His Presence and His love. Those arms will be clothed in a grey habit, and they will be warm, tender and full of the truth.

Sr. John Paul, CFR