More than an Inch Deep

I once knew a man named Walter. He taught me what it means to follow the Lord. He taught me more than any course I ever took, lecture I attended, or inspiration I received in prayer. I met Walter when I was 19. I entered the Convent believing I was answering Jesus’ call to follow. My home was in the Bronx. To say I was wide-eyed and naïve would be an absolute understatement. But I was sincere in my desire to follow, though I had no idea what following would mean.

God sent me Walter to teach me what it means to follow. Walter was homeless, and he lived on the streets of the Bronx. Walter came to the Convent hungry on Holy Thursday evening in 1976. He asked for food. The other Sisters I lived with were cautious. I learned later Walter was not there for them but for me. I invited Walter into the Convent and made a place for him in the front parlor. (I think only Convents have parlors.) A sandwich would not do on Holy Thursday. Instead, I prepared a full plate of the dinner we had just finished: lamb, potatoes, vegetables, and a salad. I sat and chatted with him while he ate. I sent him on his way with a sandwich and a cup of coffee and went to the Holy Thursday service. Walter came by several times a week over the next several months. Each time, I gave him a full meal and sat and talked to him about life, both his and mine.

In mid-summer, I went to mass at Saint Lucy’s parish church. Walter was standing in the back when I walked into the Church. He saw me and began to make a huge scene, calling out and telling everyone he was my friend. I was embarrassed by the scene he was making. I walked away from him without talking to him and took my seat in the first row. I was upset by the encounter. And I was ashamed of myself, remembering the look in his eyes when I walked away. Before the mass even began, I came to my senses. What was I doing? How could I sit there at the table of the Lord when I had just walked away from Walter? I left the Church to find him. He was gone. He never returned to my home for a meal. I searched for him for the next three years and never saw him. I grieved his loss. 

But I know that God sent me Walter to teach me what it means to follow him. He showed me where he lives and gave me the most profound life lesson about being His follower. Often, people ask why I retell this story. It certainly wasn’t my finest hour. But it was God’s finest hour in my life. When God sends people into my life now, I look into their eyes and see Walter’s eyes. I respond without embarrassment or hesitation when God calls me. I remember and thank God for Walter. 

God sent me Jesus in the person of Walter so I would follow and not be only an inch deep in my commitment to Him. I was an inch deep with Walter, and I patted myself on the back, thinking I was noble in what I did for him. God showed me that to follow Him is sometimes uncomfortable and challenging. He showed me that superficial faith would never cut it. He needed and wanted more from me and my desire to follow him.

In the Gospel, Peter and Andrew looked into the eyes of Jesus, and they dropped everything to follow Him. Imagine how powerful His eyes must have been. His eyes lured them to leave everything and follow.

For most of us, following the call of the Lord is not as powerful as it was for Peter and Andrew. We don’t drop everything. What God wants from us may differ from what He wanted from Peter and Andrew. But, without a doubt, God absolutely wants a faith that is more than an inch deep. God wants our willingness always to follow, whether convenient or inconvenient.  He wants us to follow when it is easy and when the cost is high.

Jesus came to me and changed my life through a homeless man named Walter. Into whose eyes do you look and see the face of God?

In God’s Unending Love,

Gwen