A Retired Rector's Reflections

A priest friend and I were sitting waiting for our bus in Newcastle’s Eldon Square bus station last Friday. My friend is currently reading Iris Murdoch’s novels in order of publication, and we began discussing his little project, and whether or not Iris Murdoch’s style changed as the years went on.

As we were talking a man in his thirties, clearly homeless, sat opposite us. He had long lanky hair, and a rather emaciated look. He placed a number of old plastic bags beneath his seat, and sat with his head in his hands. Next to my friend was seated a young geordie lad probably in his early twenties. He was one of those young men who cannot seem to sit still and of whom one would could well be wary if he came to the door.

The young man started a conversation with the homeless man. He asked if he was sleeping rough, and whereabouts he slept. The conversation was mainly one of questions from the young chap and brief answers from the homeless man. It became clear that the homeless man was low in spirits. He had shaking hands, and little eye contact. My friend and I continued our conversation as we looked out for the bus.

Suddenly the young man stood up and without a word walked away. It was a puzzling thing to do. However, four or five minutes later he returned carrying a cup of tea and handed it to the homeless man, saying ‘There you are, I put two sugars in it.’ The homeless man smiled and simply said ‘Thanks, mate.’

As I observed I couldn’t help but think of the parable of the Good Samaritan and the priest walking by the injured man.

‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You something to drink?… And the King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these …, you did for Me.’