Angel Dust

Ned (not his real name) is perhaps the dirtiest man I’ve ever encountered. He’s homeless, alcoholic, and ironically overweight. Rumor has it he used to have a good job at a high-tech firm. I’ve only heard that second-hand, so I don’t know if it is true or not. For some reason, he seems to blame former Portland Mayor, Vera Katz for ruining his life. A couple years ago he bragged to me about hanging out on Ms. Katz lawn, hurling invectives. If that's true, he probably hurled a few other things as well. Regardless, he’s somewhat articulate (when sober), well-read, and obviously intelligent…but very, very dirty, and seems cynical, full of bitterness, and anger boils just beneath the surface - just generally unpleasant. He’s a regular at Fr. Nicholas’ “Grilled Cheese Diner” (our front porch.) I never know what to say or do when I run into him. Every single time, I feel uneasy and a little repulsed…OK, VERY repulsed…and somewhat defensive, which is a sure giveaway that I feel a bit guilty for my lack of love towards Ned. I’ve often wondered if I could bring myself to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or even just clean him up if I found him gurgling in his own vomit. I won’t know for sure unless God decides to test me in that way - which is God's business, not mine. On the other hand, I’ve also sometimes wondered if Ned is an angel. That is, maybe I’m being tested already.