See Jesus in Service

3 See Jesus – in Service

In our story about Frank, he begins to meet Jesus in others as he serves them. He tells Pedra, who is taking his story down in shorthand:

As I grew to be a teen, I followed the precepts of the Church, obeyed the commandments, even Jesus’ command to “love others as I have loved you.” I knew that could mean dying for others. I prayed I could have that kind of courage. But it also meant living for others, which required its own kind of bravery.

Our Youth Group focused on service to others. At first it felt awkward, going to help people. I thought they might be embarrassed by the contrast between their need and our privileged lives, but most of them were truly grateful. We sorted clothes at a local St. Vincent de Paul and were encouraged to converse with those who shopped there. We ran food drives in our neighborhoods. Later we distributed groceries to shelves at the local food bank or boxed up supplies to be delivered to families. We helped manage the lines of people indoors, or the cars outdoors, as people drove up trying to help their food budget reach the end of the month.

Other times we visited nursing homes for the elderly, and we’d sing some old-time songs or simply spread out and visit with the residents. I learned to admire the kind people who worked in the homes every day, whether cleaning up after accidents, helping with showers, or being cheerful and patient when the residents weren’t. Some folks there felt forgotten and abandoned and their hurt could turn to anger. Once, though, I saw one of the crankiest old men turn into a baby-talking cuddler when a therapy dog nudged his hand for a pet. I think we all need a little nudge out of our self-pity occasionally.

In December we would arrange and throw a Christmas party for foster kids. We’d each pick a toy for someone whose name we’d drawn, but we’d also raised money so each child could take home a suitcase or duffle bag for the meager possessions that travelled with them from home to home. Seeing those kids and hearing some of their stories sure made me grateful for my parents. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we did have lots of love. I grew up with a sense of security that those kids might not ever have known. I still pray for foster kids and that truly good people will be inspired to become foster parents.

Later, after my first year of college, one of my professors found me a part-time job at a homeless shelter. I did some cleaning and cooking, but mostly I listened to stories and offered friendship to the friendless. Like Mary and Joseph who fled to Egypt with their newborn Son, some of the guests were immigrants. Some were down on their luck and had lost their homes. Some were addicted to drugs or alcohol or both. But they all needed to be listened to, to be treated with dignity, to be fed and clothed and sheltered. Those people taught me so much. I learned how little in life is really necessary; how relationship is everything. I learned how Jesus was able to hug the lepers. These folks were just as outcast as lepers, so I figured they were His people. It wasn’t always easy, but I occasionally succeeded at seeing Jesus in them.

One man came in every day for the noon meal. He always wore a tee shirt and jeans, much like most of the men there, but he looked more clean-cut than others. It took me a couple of weeks working there to notice that he moved around the diners chatting here and there, and occasionally took one or another of them into a separate room. I asked my supervisor about it, and he said, “Oh, you must mean Doc. He comes to bandage a blister, offer an antibiotic when something is infected, or encourage a person to go to the free health clinic for more care. I even saw him stitch up a knife wound once.”

I asked if he really was a doctor. My boss shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows,” he said. “But he knows his stuff. He never asks for anything more than his lunch, and the people trust him. He’s one of the good guys.”

Those words made me want someone to say that about me someday. “He’s one of the good guys.” Or even more to the point, I wanted to hear God say, on my judgment day, “Well done, you good and faithful servant. What you did for the least of these, you did for Me.”

Betty here: We all want to hear those words on our own judgment day, when we will see God face to face. Whether through service to the poorest of the poor, to our family and friends, or to the people God places in our lives, whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Him.

See Jesus – In Others

       Welcome, or welcome back to these 4-minute posts written to help us grow.  I usually set my fiction writing aside during Lent, but this year, I will illustrate one aspect of “seeing Jesus” with excerpts from my work-in-progress novel, Jesus’ Joy. In the story, we meet a terminally ill, elderly patient who is dictating stories of his life that tell how he came to see Jesus. He begins when he was a young boy visited by the Virgin Mary in a dream.

When I was seven, I awoke one night with a start. A strange woman stood at the foot of my bed. She smiled at me, and then I wasn’t afraid. Such a sweet smile couldn’t mean anyone any harm. A blue scarf covered most of her hair, and she wore a blue top and white pants, all very loose and flowy.      “Frank,” she said.      I nodded, still not quite convinced this was real, or whether this was a stranger I wasn’t supposed to talk to.      “Frank, you are a very lucky boy. Very blessed. You will see my son Jesus soon! He won’t look like you expect, but know He loves you very much.” Then I blinked, and she was gone.      What did she mean, soon? This was definitely a mama question. I found my mother in the kitchen, getting our lunches ready for the next day, and told her what had happened. Mama was a calm person, not upset very easily, but she looked worried, or maybe scared. “You must have had a very realistic dream,” she said. She took me to the couch and pulled me onto her lap. “Tell me about it again,” she said, and I did. While I talked, her face drained color to a kind of whitish grey.      Mama took a deep breath, and her face took on more color. “I know what this is,” she said. “You’ve been preparing to make your First Communion. Either you dreamed about meeting Jesus in this very special way”—I started to protest that it couldn’t have been a dream—“or,” she quickly added, “maybe the Virgin Mary really did come to remind you how blessed you are to be receiving Him soon into your body and soul.”      Ten days later I knelt in church with my Communion class, waiting for the time to receive Jesus into my heart. I looked across the aisle at others in my class and saw my friend Evan, who was aglow with a beam of sunlight from the stained-glass window. Evan was darker than me, and I had thought before about how Jesus, as a boy, might have looked like this friend. But now, with the light making his hair shine like a halo, I remembered Mary telling me I would see her Son soon. Was this what she meant? Evan was a nice kid, but he wasn’t Jesus. At least I didn’t think he was. Could Jesus be one of my classmates?      After the lector had read from the Old Testament and the choir had sung the responsorial psalm, I looked again at Evan, but the light beam had moved. Now it was illuminating the girl next to Evan, named Marcie. Marcie’s hair glowed like a halo, too, and in her white dress and veil she looked very angelic, but I knew differently. She was a bully, and I had learned to keep a good distance from her to avoid her teasing and mocking. No, the light beam definitely wasn’t showing me who Jesus was, if that’s what it was trying to do.      I drew my attention back to the lector, who had finished the second reading, taken from the New Testament parts that weren’t the Gospels. I felt bad for letting my mind wander. This was a very important day.      When it was my turn to receive, I saw and tasted bread and wine, but my faith eyes knew I had received Jesus. I’d be able to have Communion from now on, taking Jesus into my heart and body. I’d have Jesus inside me. That gave me a new thought. So would everyone in my class, even Marcie. I wouldn’t actually see Jesus when I looked at them, but Jesus would be there, inside each of them. Inside of me, too. My heart surged a beat at that thought. I wanted to keep Jesus inside me always. I wanted to remember that Jesus was inside everyone else, too. I’d need to remember to use my faith eyes to see Jesus in people.      Had I seen Jesus, like Mary told me I would? I watched the rest of the church file up to receive Communion. When the procession to the altar had ended, I looked across the aisle and saw Marcie smiling with her eyes closed. Jesus was inside her. Evan was grinning as he looked up at a statue. Jesus was inside him. Most of my classmates were smiling.      I wondered why I hadn’t seen any of the adults smile. Didn’t they realize what a gift they’d been given? Maybe it was hard to remember how special Communion is since they could do it every week, or even every day. That was another thing I told myself I’d have to remember when I grew up, to smile after Communion because God is inside me, and God loves me deeply. Jesus loves everyone enough to give them a chance to be one with Him in such a simple but deep way.      That was the day I began trying to see Jesus in everyone.        Betty here again. Let’s try, like Frank, to see Jesus in everyone around us. Not just the Evans that look like Jesus might have, but also the Marcies, who require more effort as we look beyond their behavior to the inner person who might be striking out from woundedness.   May God bless your week.

Aging with Forgiveness

“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Whenever we look back on our lives, and forward to how we’d like them to grow, we are likely to realize we need to forgive in order to continue to age gracefully. Maybe we need to let go of a past hurt. Maybe we need to forgive ourselves… or maybe God. No one who is holding a grudge or heavy guilt will age with grace.

First, we will look at forgiving others, then below consider how to forgive ourselves.

In the book, Everyone Needs to Forgive Somebody, Allen Hunt offers suggestions to help us discover whom we need to forgive and seven steps to assist in our journey of forgiveness.

1. Remember your own need for forgiveness.
2. Pick one thing you know you ought to forgive.
3. Ask God to saturate you with his grace to help you forgive.
4. If possible, engage the offender in direct, open, honest communication. Don’t accuse, focus on how you feel. Say, “I forgive you.” (Do this in your imagination if the person isn’t available.)
5. Follow your words with some act of reconciliation—perhaps a hug, handshake, or meal together.
6. To prevent the same hurts from occurring again, keep your lines of communication open, with clear, healthy boundaries and guidelines for your relationship.
7. Learn to forgive the small things—with friends, family, or coworkers. Be a person of grace. Don’t dwell on the hurts. Recognize you are still prone to mistakes as you become the-best-version-of-yourself, just as others are.

Forgiving others is a process, not usually a one-time decision. We will possibly fail, but then can try again. Here are a few practices that help me personally:

• Acknowledge to yourself the anger and hurt you feel. If possible, voice it calmly right away to the person who hurt you.
• Don’t continue to “lick the wound.” Dogs make their sores larger by doing this, and so do we when we dwell or obsess on them. Practice “thought stopping” when you find yourself doing this and instead—
• Pray for the person who hurt you. Place them in God’s care. Remind yourself you want to be a forgiver.

Letting Go of Guilt – Forgiving Ourselves

Fr. Peter Siamoo, a priest from Tanzania who studied and worked here in Portland, wrote a book called Restore Your Inner Peace: Personal Healing from Within. In Fr. Peter’s work as a counselor in hospitals and prisons, he found the inability to forgive oneself to be both prevalent and destructive. Perhaps we too have trouble letting go of our mistakes, weaknesses, and past sinfulness. Don’t we, in this study of Aging with Grace, also need to forgive ourselves?

He recommends steps:

1. Acknowledge what you’ve done.
2. Talk about it with a safe person, possibly a good friend, minister, or therapist.
3. Learn from it in order to grow and not repeat the mistake.
4. Make peace with it, not to justify the mistake but to become a wounded healer.
5. Ask for and accept forgiveness from God, who is loving and who readily forgives our transgressions when we sincerely ask for it.
6. Forgive yourself, remembering to love your neighbor as (well as) yourself.

Forgiving ourselves after a mistake is:

• An act of appreciation for God’s love and forgiveness.
• Self-love that restores our inner freedom and peace.
• A choice we make to acknowledge and accept God’s mercy and choose to treat ourselves better than what we think we deserve.
• Worth doing because we deserve a better life than carrying guilt around.
• A way of imitating God who has forgiven us, and
• Important to our being happy.
• Make amends to repair the damage and restore the relationship.

From this week on, let’s love ourselves enough to forgive ourselves… and others!

Blessings on your Lent! We’ve passed halfway!