Brother Sean

It is easier than ever to stay in touch with friends … and because of that it is harder than ever to keep up with everyone.  Today I was reading a news article about a non-profit in Atlanta that was built around gathering volunteers to help the helpless and I thought that I would send that link to Sean Rogers.

I was terribly saddened to learn that he died twenty days ago.

Sean’s hospitalization and sinking health were recorded on the past few months of his Facebook page. He had been in the hospital with pneumonia since August 31st. I knew that Sean was exhausted from his tireless work. Sometimes he went days without sleeping, staying up all night with homeless and addicted individuals. I have heard him tell stories about meeting young men who were prostituting themselves on the streets of downtown Atlanta, and helping them call their parents to see if they could come home. Then he would buy them a bus ticket and send them off with his perpetual blessing:

The Christ in me sees the Christ in you. I love you and you matter to me.

Brother Sean was burdened by the painful stories of lost humanity in which he immersed himself. He chose to live in a cheap hotel and while there turned it from a drug infested den of prostitution into a small community of people who needed some dignity. Most of them didn’t have a choice but to live day by day, hoping to make enough money during the day to buy one more night indoors.

There is no way to make Sean’s big life fit into a blog post. It’s been a while since I talked to Sean. I wish I had called him more often. There is a connection between John Robert and Sean, though they never met.

I wrote about that story the day I met Sean Rogers here in Monroe in a blogpost HERE.

I also wrote about one of Sean’s stories HERE.

Enoch Magazine did an interview with Sean HERE.

Sean’s obituary is HERE.

Sean’s light will continue to brightly lead the way for many others. His work with college students in helping them to find simple ways to relieve the pain of the homeless and hurting will span generations. The last time I saw Sean he was traveling through the area and I bought him a lunch at Cracker Barrel. Giving him a little money for gas and other expenses, he broke out in a big smile and said, “This will buy some cases of water to give away.”  Helping others was not a hobby for Sean. It was his life.

I don’t know who they are, but there are a lot of people on the streets of Atlanta who have been missing Sean these past few months. I wonder how many of them will never hear again those words that all humanity longs to hear … I love you and you matter to me.

I loved you Sean. You mattered to me. And to so many others as well.

Thanks for reading,