As the rest of the congregation, myself included, averted our eyes as our Lord stood in our midst, this man did not look away.

Upon hearing about some unthinkable violence somewhere in the world, the first thing I do when I get to the church on Sunday morning is pencil another intention into the prayers of the faithful. In some small way, it feels like a solemn duty.

As a priest, ignoring my own emotions and how they may interact with the joys and pains of another is not an option.

I would not want to replace the reverence of the Mass with the endorphin-fueled exhilaration of a contra dance. But I do want us to find ways to extend an enthusiastic welcome to all who walk through our doors.

After a decade away from weekly Catholic worship, I realize that Roman Catholicism offers me the opportunity to see the world through the eyes of a poet.

Of course, the train ride was the highlight of his day. But I am hopeful he learned what it means to welcome the stranger.