If Francis of Assisi walked into the dining room of St. Fidelis Friary during our evening meal, would he recognize me as his own?
If Jesus walked up to me right now, tapped me on the shoulder from behind, and asked me to take a walk with him, would I leave my computer, or my newspaper, or my book, and go?
If the women and men who harvested and slaughtered the food I ate yesterday came to my table, would they be hungry? If the women and children who assembled the clothes I wear came to my door, would they be ill-clad?
If I could be shown the waste I have produced, the trash I have made, and the energy I have burned; and if I could be shown the air, earth, and water that have absorbed my waste, could I stand it?
If I could see the bullets, bombs, tanks, and airplanes I have paid for; if I could see the places where these weapons of war have been used, could I stand it?
If the Capuchin order's money, food, water, energy, and health care ran out next week; if the friaries tumbled down next month; if the brothers were cut off from their benefactors and their properties, where would I go? And what would I do?
If a catastrophe crippled the community and none but the Capuchins' resources survived, what would I do?
If my Capuchin brothers asked me to leave the order, what would I say? How would I respond?
If I could not return to the work I did, the city I lived in, or the kind of homes I dwelled in, where would I go? And what would I do?
If I could feel the suffering my sins have caused, how much pain could I stand? Would I break? If I knew the pain was more than I could bear, would I take it all anyway?
If I died today, would anybody know I was a disciple of Jesus? Would the world be any better for what I did? Would God believe in me?