I understand the call in Heather King’s May 30 column “The Undeserving Poor” to push past discomfort and see Christ in the suffering of the poor.

But in Los Angeles, poverty is not an abstraction. It’s the family whose home was destroyed in wildfires, or can no longer afford rent. But it’s also the man screaming threats wielding a tree branch outside of Mass. It’s the woman spitting on cars and defecating in the church parking lot.

The article asks us to imagine the face of Christ, but how do I do that when I feel my own safety, and the safety of my children, is at risk? My corporal works of mercy end where my corpus is in danger.

The Bible doesn’t tell us what to do with an angry meth addict. While the Church does heroic work, the spiritual tools we’re given often don’t equip us to face the volatile mix of violence, madness, and addiction. Meditating on Christ’s passion doesn’t prepare you for someone whose mind has been so ravaged you fear they no longer recognize your humanity.

I don’t want to harden my heart. But the enemy has found a terrifying weapon in modern addiction, one that turns compassion into potential collateral damage, and I don’t know how to solve that.