Grandparenting as Ministry

What if the most important role of your life is still ahead of you? Have you ever considered grandparenting to be a ministry? We can elevate any activity to holiness if we lift it up to God. This idea can be especially true as we raise our grandparenthood from the realm of familial relationship to a service on God’s behalf.

In this society, many people think of their “golden years” as a time to enjoy themselves. Yet, our grandchildren give a sense of meaning to our later years beyond what golfing or travel can offer. The Bible supports this ministry:

He decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which He commanded our ancestors to teach their children so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children.Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget His deeds but would keep His commands. (Psalm 78:5-7 NIV)

Grandparenting can be a vocation, like being single, married, or religious. A vocation is a call from God. Deuteronomy 4:9 says of the tenets of our faith:

Only be careful and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.

God wants us to share with our grandchildren what is closest to our hearts. Of course, parents are the primary instillers of faith, but the verse above reminds us we are also called! And this “bonus” parenting in our later years can be a gift! We aren’t burdened by the weight of responsibility that parenting entails. We are freer to relax and enjoy! As Proverbs 7 says, “Grandchildren are the crown of the aged.” And Psalm 145:3-4 declares: Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom. One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts. We can be that generation that commends God’s works to our grandchildren.

During Catholic weddings, the priest blesses the couple, praying that they may live to see their children’s children. Our goal is to pray for and teach our children, and then their children, so that one day we may be together in heaven. I bet most of us already pray for our children and our grandchildren. I repeatedly ask God to keep them safe. But as I read more about grandparenting as a ministry, I realized I should be praying for more than safety in this life. I should be asking God to guide them, to fill their hearts with a desire to do His will, and to keep them close in relationship with Him. And I should also be praying for wisdom and strength to be the kind of grandparent who will gently help move them closer to Him.

Some parents prefer that the grandparents not share their faith with the children. We must respect their wishes but continue to pray for both the parents and the children that God will draw them close in ways we can’t. And we can live our lives as examples so that we are not a stumbling block to future faith. Though we do not verbally share our faith with the children out of respect for their parents’ wishes, the children are watching our examples. We certainly can and should share our values with them! No parent is going to object to teaching about honesty, integrity, service, etc.

But those of us whose children welcome our faith sharing have many roads open to us!

• Celebrate and hopefully attend the grandchildren’s milestones in faith, such as when they receive sacraments.
• Take them with us when we minister to others, such as in a soup kitchen, or when we drop off groceries at shelters or food closets.
• Read aloud appropriate scripture on Christmas or Easter or give the children their own Bibles or stories of saints.
• Attend church services together and wander through the church afterwards discussing its various areas and altars.
• Tell them stories about your faith life and about their parents as children when they participated in their religious heritage.
• If possible, financially support a week at a religious camp, or a year at Catholic School.
• Or bring all the cousins together at your home for a week of Cousin Camp where you can roast marshmallows, play games, watch movies you choose, or read Bible stories. Memories will last their lifetimes.
• If a week is too long, throw a cousin slumber party for a fun overnight that includes prayers and crafts relating to faith.
• Learn about youth ministry and consider yourself a youth minister to your family. (See The Strategic Grandparent book below.)

All of these ideas involve some planning ahead. To this point perhaps your grandparenting style hasn’t been a conscious decision. Maybe you emulated your grandparents’ approach or wanted to be very different from them. But now, thinking of yourself as a role model in faith or values, it is worth putting some time into planning activities, conversation starters, and purposeful gifts.

Grandparenting as a ministry can grow beyond activities, prayers, and support. It can become a way of life, a reason to improve ourselves so that we lead our grandchildren by example. I want to be the best person God created me to be, so that my grandchildren can look up to me and see someone worth emulating. I bet you do, too.

Personal note: I named this set of emails a few weeks ago, well before I knew that the sweet grandchild born this week would be named Grace! This certainly gives another meaning to Grandparenting with Grace!

Blessings on your week!

A Final Night Shift

A little Easter bonus…

Miriam walked in the dark along paths edged with budding rhododendrons, azaleas, and unspiraling ferns, beneath giant evergreens. She remembered warmly a little boy who had asked her to intercede for his mother as she lay near death after the birth of his tiny sister. Both mother and child had lived, and years later the boy, by then Father Ambrose Mayer, had built this Portland place of peace and refuge, the National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother, as a sign of his gratitude. Arriving at a stone grotto carved into a 100-foot basalt cliffside, she settled onto a kneeler before a white statue replica of Michelangelo’s Pietà that depicted Mary holding the body of her Son after His crucifixion.

Her thoughts focused on the statue and beyond it to her experience of that devastating moment. She ached anew with the anguish of holding her Son’s lifeless adult body upon her lap. But the pain didn’t stand alone, for alongside it was boundless gratitude for the sacrifice her Son had made to redeem all her children.

His was no quick death. He had suffered intensely on that final day: whipping, beating, humiliation, a piercing thorny crown shoved down upon his brow, dragging a heavy beam—not to be honed into something sturdy and functional like He and Joseph had built—but wood of torture and death, and then, oh then—she still could hear the terrible blows—the pounding of spikes to peg His hands and feet to the cross, His groans as the cross was lifted and dropped into its hole, the draining of His strength over three hours while she stayed within His gaze, before His forgiving words, His release of His Spirit, and the final thrust of a spear that confirmed He was dead.

She could feel the tears trailing her cheeks as they had countless times when she commemorated His suffering and death. She remembered following His footsteps on the Way of the Cross, or the Via Dolorosa, in order to ponder the mysteries of His death. She wept for the wounds people today continue to inflict on her Son: the commandments they break, their refusal to center their lives around the One who loves them, their selfishness that hurts the ones around them. She cried for the pain her beloved children experienced at the hands of her other, also-beloved children.

Yet, she forced herself to remember His resurrection! For as surely as He had died, He had also risen.

The dawning sun brightened the sky above the Grotto and drew her gaze heavenward. His resurrection was the culmination of those three agonizing days when her Son was lost to her.

He rose and returned to her!

At this thought, her soul leapt within her and her joy resurged. For as deep as her sorrow had been—and still was when she pondered His suffering—her joy was even greater. He lived! He had conquered not only death, but sin and evil. That was the purpose behind His suffering, and what a joyous gift it was to all who welcomed it, who welcomed Him into their hearts. The thought reminded Miriam of her countless children who do strive to follow God’s path.

Exultation encompassed Miriam, and she lifted her love to her God and thanked Him with her whole being. God—Father, Son, and Spirit—God was infinitely good. God was all Love, and she was entirely His. All her children were God’s, and she would work tirelessly for them to realize that, so they could share in her Joy.

A young priest passed behind Miriam on his way to celebrate the first Mass of the day. He had been struggling with depression and loneliness and had knelt a few feet behind the praying woman to ask God to give him strength.

He watched Miriam raise her arms and listened while she sang with great elation:

My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God, my Savior…

for He has looked with favor on His humble servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed,

the Almighty has done great things for me,

and holy is His Name.

He has mercy on those who fear Him

in every generation.

He has shown the strength of His arm,

He has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,

and has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things,

and the rich He has sent away empty.

He has come to the help of his servant Israel

for He has remembered his promise of mercy,

the promise He made to our fathers,

to Abraham and his children forever.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,

as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever.

Amen. Alleluia!

The sun crested the grotto edge, temporarily blinding the young priest. When he shaded his eyes with his hand, the woman was gone.

Yet, such ecstasy had risen in him as he overheard her words that simply recalling the experience overcame any emergence of darkness in his mood for all his remaining years of life.

6 Comfort the Sick

How might we comfort the sick, especially now that we must maintain our distance?

• Send flowers or fruit or candy.
• Write the ailing person a letter. Send a card.
• Bring soup, or a meal for the rest of the family.
• Donate for research to the Cancer Society or a similar foundation.
• Phone someone who is sick. Try FaceTime on a smart phone so they can see you, too.
• Or, when it is allowed, sit with them and offer comfort and encouragement.

Night Shift

Martha was a bit confused. Feeling muddled struck more and more often lately, but it certainly seemed that her favorite statue of Mary had climbed down off its shelf and was now sitting with her on her bed.

“What are you looking at?” Asked Miriam, pointing to papers in Martha’s hands.

“Results from a memory test I took,” Martha answered. “My children arranged it. They are arranging a lot of things lately.”

“They love you and worry about you. What do the results say?”

“Moderate dementia.” Martha shrugged. “I suppose it’s true. Lately I show up for things either at the wrong time or on the wrong day. I can’t remember all my grandchildren’s names, let alone the great-grandchildren. My son says I have four great-great grandchildren, but that can’t be true. I’m not that old.”

“What a Godsend to see your family grow!” Miriam said to the elderly woman. “One of the blessings in the Bible is to see your children’s children. Very few get to live long enough to see as many generations as you.”

“But now it seems I am outliving my mind. Losing important memories. And I suppose it will only get worse.” Martha set down the papers and removed her reading glasses. “Who am I, if not a collection of the memories of my life? Who will remember my story when I can’t?”

“The diseases of this life that slowly take away a person’s memories are certainly a sorrow. But you know the Father can turn even this to good.”

“What good can it possibly be to slowly stop knowing all I worked so many years to learn? What worth is there in the remainder of a life like that?”

“Martha,” Miriam said softly, “isn’t a newborn’s life a precious treasure, even though he or she holds no memories?”

Martha scowled, suspecting where this line of thought was going, so Miriam continued. “That little bundle of joy and demands can teach a parent to discover what it is to love unconditionally, even though the newborn gives nothing in return, not even a smile until it is older.”

The statue-now-woman looked intently into Martha’s eyes. “We don’t understand all God’s ways, or how He works all things for good, even devastating things like this, but perhaps He is giving your family and friends and caretakers a gift by allowing them to serve you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to anyone! I want to continue to be useful, to help people!” Martha would have stomped her foot if she hadn’t been sitting on her bed where her feet didn’t reach the floor.

“And bless you for that desire. But believe me, as difficult as the time ahead may be for everyone, eventually your family will look back and count your final days with them as a blessing. Yes, they will be sad if you reach a point when you don’t know who they are anymore, but they will know you! They will carry the memories of you as precious gifts. And have faith; you will rise whole and healthy again in the next life. This suffering is temporary, and your reward will be immeasurable and permanent!”

Martha sighed. “Aging seems to be a tiresome series of letting go, one thing after another. I miss my own home, and yes, I’m grateful, of course, that my son has taken me into his home, but I miss my healthy, flexible body. I miss being able to eat whatever I wanted before I had to start watching my salt intake, my cholesterol levels, or my blood sugar. I miss driving! Must I really let go of my memories, too?”

“Only God knows what lies ahead, but I promise you, He is good: all loving, all merciful, all wise. He will be with you.”

Martha nodded. Yes, there was comfort in that, knowing He would be with her, even if she no longer knew Him. She bowed her head—and her will—and did what she had done many times before. She placed herself in His hands and her life at His disposal. With that came peace.

When she looked up again, she laughed to see her Mary statue back on the shelf, with the same serene face she always wore. Had her statue truly climbed down and joined her on her bed? Maybe it didn’t matter. Her future might not always allow her to tell what was real and what wasn’t, but Martha knew that tonight’s message touched her heart with profound truth.

(Excerpt from my Miriam’s Joy!)

May God bless your week and protect your health.