Sinner stories.

Today's Gospel is about how Jesus welcomed sinners and ate and drank with them.  [Luke 5: 27-32]  I love this passage, I think of it every time I approach Holy Communion.  Anyway, I thought I would use today's post to write a little story about a sinner.
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Jimmy O'Brien*
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Before they were banned from the tavern, my parents spent a lot of time at the Moose Lodge on Payne Ave. in St. Paul.  One of our neighbors seemed to always be there - a skinny Irish widower named Jimmy - he had two daughters, Debbie and Moira, one was a classmate of mine, the other, Moira, was kind of a slut.  The whole family was skinny and ugly - my mother referred to them disdainfully as 'shanty Irish' - they looked like 'refugees from the potato famine."  My mother was Irish descent and her mother claimed to be 'lace curtain Irish'.  Whatever - I'm not at all fond of American Irish patriots, but that is another story.
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Jimmy was a drunk, I suppose an alcoholic as well - but there is a difference between the two, or so I've been told by drinkers, but I can't remember what the distinction is.  Jim was a ne'er-do-well, barely feeding his girls or making the rent, yet he always was in the bar.  Except Saturdays.  But I'll get back to that.
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According to local bar-talk, when Jimmy would run short of cash, he'd offer his oldest daughter's services to the guys stopping in the bar after work.  Despite the fact she was ugly, being sort of a slut helped her come off somewhat more attractive; lots of make-up and peroxide contributed to a sort of glamorous mystique I guess.  When my mother found out that he was selling Moira she was furious.  She made it her responsibility to be there with my dad every time Jimmy was there.  Accordingly, her spying paid off because one night she actually witnessed Jim offering Moira for sale.  Hard of hearing though she was, (and therefore questionable if she actually heard what she thought she had), my mother went through the roof and berated the poor guy after Moira suddenly left the bar and Jimmy had been served a drink; hurling insults, insisting the bartender  throw the guy out and call the cops.  The bartender let Jimmy stay and threw out my parents instead - it was the last 'walk-to' bar in the neighborhood they had been allowed in - and that night they were banned from there too.
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Shortly after the brouhaha, my parents arrived home fighting amongst themselves over what happened, my mother cursing Jimmy as a hypocrite because he went to confession on Saturdays and faithfully attended  Mass on Sundays - and even received Holy Communion on occasion.  My dad hurled insults at the Catholic Church for permitting him to commit such a sacrilege.  They wanted to turn him into to the Welfare dept. and/or the police, and may have done so.  But I doubt anything actually came of it in those days.
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I always wonder about Jimmy however.  Were the stories true?  Did he struggle with his sins?  Is that why he went to weekly confession?  Was he a molester too - did he abuse his daughters as well?  What did the priest tell him in confession - because he must have confessed all of that stuff?  Yet he assisted at Mass devoutly every Sunday - and on Holy Days - and for certain at Easter and Christmas he would receive Holy Communion.
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My mother on the other hand was a divorced, remarried outside the Church, Catholic.  A rather bitter Catholic, often vindictive and curiously self-righteous over the fact that she would not go to Church unless she was in the state of grace - hence my parents never went to Mass or devotions, even on Christmas.  They did go to church on Sunday nights to play Bingo - bars were closed on Sunday's in those days.  Oh, and they prayed to St. Jude to help them win, so they did pray.  But they never went to Mass - and at least they never put their kids up for sale.  Curious how we can convince ourselves that we are not as bad as someone else. 
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Anyway - I have no lesson here - no moral of the story.  Jim died a happy death as did both my parents - all died with the consolation of the sacraments and had an honorable Catholic burial.  I don't know what happened to Jim's daughters though...
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And I don't know what will happen to me.
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"Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do.  I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners." - Luke 5: 32
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Art:  "Caritas Romana" - Lorenzo Pasinelli.  Roman Charity is the story (from Valerius Maximus) of a daughter who secretly breastfeeds her father after he is incarcerated and sentenced to death by starvation. She is found out by a jailer, but her act of selflessness impresses officials and wins her father's release.
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*Names have been changed to protect the accused.