He has to walk the whole length of State Street
to get to Sunday Evening Mass.
Women with tattoos sit cuddled up against their men.
They’re listening to the street musicians.
Panhandlers shake their cups of coins.
People are smoking something sweet.
This is the season of Magdalenes, of wedding feasts,
of Jesus wandering up and down the hills of Galilee,
attending parties held by sinners and tax collectors,
sometimes bringing the wine.
But Jesus wasn’t shy.
The young priest is, especially around sin.
“One of these Sundays,” he announces in his sermon,
“I’m going to leave the house an hour early.
I’m going to get to know one of those panhandlers.
I’m going to take him to a nice restaurant
and buy him a nice meal.”
I hope you do, Young Father.
I hope you loosen your collar and blend in with the crowd.
Let State Street minister to you, let the season in.