Several people were occupied

Occupy Seattle? What does it mean? In my ten minutes of occupying, I had a conversation with a homeless friend, listened to people pounding on empty buckets with drumsticks, and had a bottle of wine pushed at me by a very persistent activist. 

"Have some. C'mon, Father, have a slug. I insist!  Come on. You should have some."

I demurred.

As I was leaving, a pair of young people, oblivious to anything else, were standing on the edge of the plaza, limbs and lips locked tight. They were feeling the moment like no one else; the spray from the fountain, the pounding of the drums, the police chatting quietly across the street, the activist-sot, downtown Seattle, at night, in October, sans rain.  Heady stuff. 

The Intoxicated Evangelist

Michelangelo's "Noah Drunk" Sistene Chapel

 

We stopped at a shelter - guys are watching TV. Suddenly a very drunk man sees me and shouts "Read something from my Bible" and then lurches around the room, grabs a Bible sitting on the table. We take turns reading, me choosing something from Isaiah which included a promise of fine aged wine in the coming good times.  Probably not the best choice.  He goes straight to Romans.

 

After several selections - back and forth, he says to me, in a not-so-loud drunken whisper, "I graduated Catholic. I went to war. This is all I have left," patting his Book.

And that is a sermon.  Cue the organ.