Reflecting upon the UK record-high number of people dying whilst experiencing homelessness

With the vulnerable always at our heart: a reflection from Sant’Egidio London

When we read the BBC’s recent article (read article here), our hearts are moved. Not only by the starkness of the facts, but by the quiet suffering that hides behind them. It speaks of a world wounded by poverty, and indifference. Yet even in such darkness, we believe that light can still be kindled: in the small gestures of friendship, in a shared meal, in the tenderness of those who refuse to look away.

At Sant’Egidio London, we meet many faces like those described in the article: people whose stories do not reach the news, but who teach us daily what resilience and hope truly mean. We are reminded that compassion begins not with grand solutions, but with proximity: with the decision to draw near, to listen, to love.

Bearing witness to human dignity

In the face of what can seem like overwhelming crises, it is tempting to drift into helplessness. But Sant’Egidio’s conviction, founded in more than fifty years of grassroots encounter, is that every life matters. We do not begin with policies or debates; we begin with people. We listen. We walk beside. We share a cup of tea, a meal, a word of solace. We strive to make visible those whom society often renders invisible.

This posture of proximity is not sentimental. It is a moral necessity. The article cites chilling facts; our response must be more than facts. It must be flesh-and-blood presence.

The importance of a name

A name carries the weight of a person’s story — it is the first sign that someone has been seen, recognised, and loved. To know a name is to affirm a life, to say: you matter, you belong among us. When a woman dies without her name being known, as in the case of the 40-year-old whose funeral was empty, the silence is not only around her coffin — it is a silence that indicts us all. Her anonymity reveals how easily a life can slip through the cracks of our hurried world. Remembering her name, or even seeking to restore it, becomes an act of resistance against indifference. It is to say that no one should be forgotten, that every person deserves to be called by name — in life, and in death.

An invitation to live differently

Reading the BBC’s account, we ask: how will we respond personally? Will we enter the discomfort of someone else’s suffering? Will we risk attachments and routines? Will we allow our hearts to break where they have never broken?

To the readers, we offer this humble invitation: let the faces behind the article move you: not to despair, but to courageous hope. Consider joining a community committed to friendship with the excluded. Walk with us through the streets of London towards someone who is lonely (read more here). Spend time in silent prayer for those whose voices are silenced. Advocate, in your sphere, for policies rooted in human dignity.

In these days of fragile peace and global turbulence, let us be builders of bridges, not walls. Let us call forth a time when no life is disposable, when no tragedy is forgotten.

We remain near. And we need everyone’s help. Yours too.

Sant’Egidio London