In our final week of sharing, let’s share what stories moved us about:
Chapter 16: Four Women
Chapter 17: Echoes of Christmas
Chapter 18: Cool
Chapter 19: Replanting the Forest
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One morning in an inner-city homeless shelter.
“My name’s Kristine…I’ve got cancer.”
The tender human voice blends elegantly with the dream-like melody of a classic pop song playing softly in an AM radio on a desk nearby.
“Imagine there’s no heaven.
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today….”
A brief pause. A misty stare. A deep breath. A heavy sigh. And a current of thought: What if, the voice you hear is yours, and your name’s Kristine? What if, you’ve got cancer, and there’s no heaven, nor hell, but only living for today?
A long time ago, I had cancer; virtually.
Just a day after my annual medical check-up, I got a call from our company clinic to undergo additional chest x-ray examination. I had qualms. First time I got that kind of call after many years of going through such annual medical routine.
Right after I had gotten out the x-ray room, I consulted our company doctor on the matter. Being my close peer, he casually gave me a not-worth-the-pains talk to keep up my spirits. He told me frankly it would take a couple of months to get rid totally of the ugly spot from my lung. One stirring question that preyed on my mind and wanted to know the answer: WHAT IF the spot lingers after the treatment? But, I didn’t ask that direful question. For certain, I couldn’t put a bold face upon the implication our doctor would let out – the Big C – the likely horrid outgrowth of my two-packs-a-day smoking vice.
In the couple of months that followed, the WHAT-IF question took after an image of the legendary “Sword of Damocles” hanging over my head that could fall at the end of the treatment period. The menacing picture induced a Why-Me-Lord anguish that frightened me out of my wits while plowing my way, with fear and trembling, through the soul-stirring stages of a Personal Crisis: Shock. Denial. Withdrawal. Resignation. Acceptance.
The impact of my initial shock was directly proportional to the weight of my personal bulk of treasures stored safely in my barn – a tops curriculum vitae, a successful career, a stable job, a prominent family, a beautiful wife, a bunch of promising kids, a community reputation, and a rose-colored future – an ocean deep of personal achievement, stamped with P-R-I-D-E, that was inversely proportional to my skin-deep intimacy with God, defined by when-all-is-well-who-needs-God parachute style of divine relationship.
Coming to grips with the process of enduring each grating stage of the crisis was the very picture of ”the grain of wheat [falling] to the ground and [dying]” (Jn 12:23) – dying to my prideful self. For what would I need the bulk of achievements for when I was staring eyeball-to-eyeball with the death prospect? Virtually, the process gradually stripped me off the worldly trappings that had made me proud. Net effect: My detachment from such trappings.
To cut this story short, wonder of wonders, when I got to the Acceptance stage of the crisis, what I did accept was not the Reality of Cancer but instead the Lordship of Jesus Christ, my Savior, as ministered to me by my Protestant friend (Week 4 Post).
Although the x-ray exam taken after the treatment indicated not an iota of a spot in my lung anymore (hence, the adverb “virtually” was used,nonetheless, the overall effect was much the same) my Lordship of Jesus Christ, suddenly, turned the Big C menace – real or imaginary – at this point, to be nonessential in the whole scheme of things.
That reminded me of the Bible story (Daniel 3:1-24)about the 3 God’s faithfuls who refused to worship the human king’s golden statue. Angered, the king let them choose: Worship it or you will be thrown into a burning furnace. They chose the furnace. Words of the 3 reflected the kind of authentic faith we ought to learn by heart:
“If you order us to be thrown into the furnace, the God we serve will rescue us. But EVEN IF HE WON’T, we are not going to…worship the golden statue…”
In parallel, during that period of my personal crisis, the Lordship of Jesus Christ my Savior was all that mattered in my life, EVEN IF, to the bitter end, HE WON’T get rid of that spot in my lung. God’s getting rid of it is just a bonus – a “change order” in my “contract” with Him to carry out some “extra work” in my “work-in-progress” project called LIFE.
At this stage, let me stress 2 vital points: First, I became more than just a grain of wheat: I produced much fruit – fruit of the Spirit of Love, Joy, Peace, among others (Gal. 5:22-23). Second, compared with the Lordship of Jesus Christ, worldly trappings I deemed “rubbish” – Apostle Paul’s unreserved word (Phil 3:8).
Now let us connect dots to decipher the enigma of “The Poor and Me” that the worldly finds a hard nut to crack. At this point, the resolution will come as natural as breathing fresh air.
The poor are blessed people (Lk 6:20).
What I will do to the poor, I will do to God (Mt 25:35-36).
I will love the poor (Gal 5:22)
I will help the poor (Lk 4:18)
I will give joyfully and peacefully to the poor (Gal 5:22).
I will give freely to the poor (Phil 3:8 -Detached; things are nothing)
There will be The Last Judgment (Mt 25;31-46)
There is Heaven and Hell (Mt 25:46; Yes John, there is)
I will go to Heaven (Mt 25:46)
Because of Cancer.
“I’ve got cancer….My name’s Christine.”
Cool.
How I see the poor and my experience of the almsgiving part of Lenten practices is different as a result of this small book of stories and the saints at the SVDP Thrift Shop and my participation in the reader online sharing group. My understanding of who are the “poor” and the “saints” is expanded.
As a disabled, homebound woman dealing with chronic complex autoimmune diseases, I am the poor with many opportunities to serve as a saint. Jane’s stories have given me inspiration in ways I can serve the poor. As I have spent most of Lent, (so far): at the medical center for doctor appointments and diagnostic testing; hours making medically related telephone calls; dealing with conflicting opinions and on and on …I have made it a point to notice other ill people all around me. I often engage in short conversation on the elevator or in waiting rooms with them or their family/caretakers. The one thing I can give right now is a genuine smile. I offer to pray for them. I stand in solidarity with them …not pity. I envision them surrounded by God’s healing light and Mary’s mantle of protection. I also make it a point to really pay attention to the medical staff and find ways to see Christ in them. I smile and try to keep complicated narratives clear and to the point by writing a Patient Narrative with all essential points for the office visit. I give genuine appreciation verbally face-to-face or by calling their manager with commendations, and I take the time to complete those evaluation forms they hand out at each treatment.
My intention here is not to toot my horn. Rather, I am thankful to Jane’s stories and a reply she wrote to one of my early sharings about living with illness and feeling helpless to serve the poor. “Giving from the starting point of [my] illness, [I} am giving from my own need.” That phrase from Jane, along with the story of Christine, the woman with terminal cancer whose service at SVDP Thrift Shop is inspirational, timely and obviously in the Divine Order of for all concerned.
As Jane pointed out in the beginning of her journey with the Vincentians, they always start with Prayer. I have been praying for what else God wants me to do and for discernment regarding right timing. Currently, my voice and speech skills are functional. I have decided to call the woman in our parish that is in charge of 2 meals that our parish provides for a homeless men’s shelter. I have heard she needs help with telephone calls. Perhaps she could use my help.
Thank you, Jane, for this wonderful book. I look forward to the sequel. Thank you, Maureen, Andy and all other Creighton University Online Ministries personnel and volunteers for putting together this Lenten opportunity. And thank you, fellow readers, for the blessings of your sharing.
Thank YOU, Linda. Your story is so very worthy. I expect that it will be more so as you add to it day by day. God bless.
I haven’t contributed my response in the last two weeks. I was away visiting my daughter and granddaughter and computer access was limited. I have continued to read Jane’s stories, though and always come away with much food for thought. The one thread, for me, which seems to come through in these final chapters, is that no one ever really knows how God is going to use one’s willingness and openness to serve the poor. I was especially moved by the story of Christine, the realtor dying of cancer whose story Jane shares in Chapter 18, Cool who comes into the Thrift Shop during her final weeks of life to volunteer and her real estate skills and experience are just what is needed to help guide a woman and mother of 7 who is being evicted from her apartment, what a wonderful example of God placing just the right person in just the right place and time.
I do love the “philosophy” of the Vincentians where their only requirement to volunteer is possessing a compassion for the downtrodden.
I will continue to be open to opportunities to serve and certainly have appreciated these real life stories about some very “holy” people. It has been humbling to share in their lives. Thank you.
Jane’s closing pages say that she writes these stories (a) because it can’t be that they were meant for only [her] ears” and “so that we can better grow together in this unmapped woods . . . .”
The truth is that sad stories trouble me. Whatever the reason, all too often I have to fight off tears. I absolutely hate sadness. I have known some amazing joys and I often see people (a) enjoying life, (b) bringing joy to others, (c) celebrating joys they hold in their memory, and (d) planning for the joy of their future, whether in this life or in Heaven. This book makes me think that sometimes there will be no joy, just less sadness.
Just think about the Four Women in Jane’s chapter 16: we see that they each suffer profound poverty — yet, I suspect that most of the billions on earth do also. Why does God leave them to live in tears and silence? The only reason that I can comprehend is so that the rest of us can help.
In chapter 18, Christine says, “I never know if there will be a tomorrow — so why not today?”
Having read Jane’s book and what others say each week, I see more clearly that (a) I waste time, (b) I need to help people, (c) like raising a child, helping people is extraordinarily joyful and (d) living with unselfish love is the purest communion we can have here on earth. More significantly, helping others is the clearest way of cooperating with God’s Will. All I need to do now is to get off my duff.
So please, all, accept my “Thank you!”
Lent has been so different this year. I have gotten a new perspective through this book and through all of you. It is comforting to know that I have made this journey through Lent with you. I thank each of you for your insight. I guess if I could put into words what I take away from all of this is I ” like talking to God when he is not only in the room, but he smells, and cries, and prefers to do all of the talking himself.” Because of this group and all of your thoughts and reflections, the Lord has become more visible to me through the poor. The clients I am privileged to serve every day- the woman who has lost her children, the wife who has been beaten by her husband, the man whose little girl is in the hospital touch my heart in a different way now. They are not problems to solve but manifestations of the Lord here on earth. May we all continue to grow and recognize Him in everyone we meet. Best of luck to all of you as we continue the journey to Easter!
I strongly identified with the fourth women so silent in her state of poverty in Chapter Fourteen of “Thrift Shop Saints” and pondered my own similar state recently, as we journey on through Lent. My husband and I were travelling and set up camp for the night at Wannan Falls at its well-presented resting site. We were the only ones there until a car pulled up and an aborigine man got out and walked towards us. He looked somewhat stern as he introduced himself by his tribal name and asked us why we were stopping there. He informed us that it was sacred ground and it had been recently returned to his people from the Government. I asked if it was alright for us to stay. His face softened as he explained he was one of the elders who had recently travelled overseas to collect the remains of some of his people from a large museum. He also went on to say that many, many years ago most of his tribe which lived in the area between Naracoorte Caves some two hundred miles away (and which we had visited the day before) and Wannan Falls, had been massacred. He also mentioned that the caves were sacred burial grounds of his people. He could see I was deeply touched by his story and his parting words were, “This land welcomes you.” “You will be safe here.”
This Lent was the time to review the evidence and clean up my own messy feelings of heaviness about the massacre. I hold all that the Elder is telling me in my hands. It is sacred. When he finishes his story I return what is his to him and we walk together towards his car readying for his departure. I am now standing at the foot of the Cross and watch the Blood of Christ flow into the ground. It flows from this point at Wallan Falls towards Naracoorte. I follow to the cave at Naracoorte and enter. The Blood of Christ flows over the remains of skeletons of reptiles, animals and unseen, hidden human bones. It is still dark, cold and silent in the cave but that doesn’t matter anymore. The Presence makes all sacred. From unchangeable myth (refer “A Conversation with the Author”), and goals, (they cannot be measured), flows the objective, pointing the way, just as Jesus’ finger wrote in the sand for the condemned women, “Freedom”. The work of Christ in God changing me in daily life is so the world too, be changed. With deep gratitude, thank you Jesus.
This book has been an exquisitely beautiful gift. I identified strongly with Jane’s emotional reaction to the Four Women. Jane is cognitive. She teaches mathematics. I am cognitive. I am a lawyer. Several years ago, I prayed to be less isolated from people. I found myself a few weeks later wearing a coat that said “Chaplain” on it, and involved in a clinical training program for chaplains at an urban teaching hospital. One of the first things I learned was the way I escaped from emotional engagement with people in pain. Rather than engage deeply with the domestic violence victim, I would spout sociological information and refer her to the YWCA victims counseling center. Rather than listen to the pain and sadness of a suicide survivor, I would encourage him to find a good psychiatrist and be sure to take his medications. With grace, I have progressed to meeting people on an emotional level.
I have been studying the Book of Job. One commentator observed that the three friends who visit Job are frightened by his emotional pain, and therefore spout orthodox theology at Job instead of comforting him in an empathic way. They simply proclaim: “Job, you must have sinned”. In the end, Job falls silent, and it is then that God speaks to him.
I pray that God sees the fourth woman in Jane’s story, who was depressed and hopeless, and touches her heart. Perhaps the kindness given to her in the St. Vincent DePaul store planted a seed of hope that can sprout into restored life.
This book is about relationship. Will I take the time to be inconvenienced temporally and emotionally to relate to people God places in my life or will I simply “deal with” them? I pray for the grace of relationship. Will I notice the significance of seemingly chance meetings and encounters? I pray for awareness.
Joe, you see clearly what this chapter is about. This was the most difficult chapter for me to write. It was the last one I wrote, and I reluctantly gave it to my editor, hoping she would edit it down to something less painful. She must not be cognitive!
Thank you for seeing into me, and seeing into yourself, in these encounters with the four women. Great hope wells up within me that our isolation will dissolve.
Reading the last chapters this week about the Four Women and Echoes of Christmas remind me of how we seem to think and expect that life will unfold in the manner that we perceive it. As Catholics we say that we have this faith. We do believe in God and in miracles, to a point. We can watch the old film, The Story of Bernadette and read the lives of the saints and the Scriptures but it seems that we don’t really give God much credit for being God. We wonder how this impossible situation can possibly be pulled off and then more volunteers come in the door. Donations arrive in the mail. People drop by with just what is needed. When will we let God be God?
And Cool, what a wonderful gift for all of us to be able to share the importance of each hour of someone’s life even as it draws to a close. Thank you Jane for your sharing these stories with us.
I really appreciate the opportunity to participate in this reading group. The stories in the book touched me more than I can say. For some reason the last chapters quelled a restlessness in me that has been going on for sometime. As I read Four women and Echoes Of Christmas, I just kept hearing my inner voice say serve where you are planted, serve where you are planted.
I have belonged to a group of people that are in the trenches everyday, Many years ago I was in need of great help, love, and compassion, and I received it and grew up into what most people would call a productive member of society. Over the years I have given back to that community what had been given to me, with great joy but over the last few years I have become complacent, and disinterested looking for something new. When I read Four Women I thought of my community, the people that served me many years ago and that I had served along the way. I knew those women in the stories and suddenly I missed them. The next day I got a call from a old friend asking if I were available to spend time visiting incarcerated women? I just love how God works!
Echoes of Christmas brought me to tears. I was once a young single mother with little resources and once again people were very kind to me. I later met my husband and my daughter and I have had a wonderful full life. Two years ago my son came to us and said his girlfriend was 6 months pregnant. My Grandson is one of the greatest joys I have ever known. Watching my son struggle with the realities of young parenthood as been a quite the spiritual lesson in compassion for him and me. Last night it was decided that my son and grandson would be moving home for a while.
So what this Lenten journey with all of you and the Saints has brought me is the willingness and awareness to respond to the opportunity that is being presented.
Sherrie,
“Serve where you are planted” sounds like God’s voice to me–kind of non-specific, but crystal clear at the same time. All these years volunteering at the thrift store I have heard a similar voice. It says: “Stay small. Keep working at the thrift store.” And that is how I met all these wonderful souls in the book–and now you, too! Cool.
In Chapter 16 (“Four Women”), Jane says, “It is not good when the poor are silent.” The first three women trusted Jane with their tears and their stories; they seemed embarrassed by their emotions, but at least there was feeling, a hope that maybe St. Vincent de Paul’s help would be the first step in getting out of a difficult situation. However, the fourth woman’s silence seemed almost chilling. Her lack of words cause me to wonder: What is underneath that silence? Is the silence acting like a coat, shielding her so that no more hurt can penetrate an already devastated heart? Is the silence a locked door that keeps her from sharing the inner hurt, thus keeping her from healing? Worse still–what if the silence meant that there was just nothing left inside? To be so empty is frightening.
Jane, you are so honest. You readily admit that you are a thinker, and that messy situations, especially when they involve messy emotions, are hard to deal with. As a math teacher, you work toward solving a problem. As a former high school English teacher, I found it easy to teach literature featuring “messy” characters, because they were just that: characters. But pain in books is fiction, an abstraction of pain; it’s not the real thing. Being in contact with people who come to the office with tremendous need, or listening to heartbreaking situations over the phone is a concrete experience of sharing in others’ pain. Silence may be less messy, but it may be more dangerous, because what is underneath it may be far more frightening than anger or tears.
Jane, thank you for sharing your stories with us. Your honesty and humor has opened me up to being more aware of Jesus’ presence in situations and people I might have previously missed. I hope I will be a bit more alert to his presence from this time on. It has been a gift and a privilege to journey this Lent through your book, as well as spending time with all those who have shared their thoughts here on the blog!
You are so very welcome, Pat. But these aren’t really my stories. They belong to the people who are in them. I have been given the beautiful gift of re-telling the stories so that compassion may bust out of hearts. My own compassion needed to be prodded out of hiding. I’m not sure why I was keeping it inside, but once out, it bloomed. My prayer is that every reader of these stories may experience the same springtime.
Jane states she is so willing to write the check if someone else can take care of actually helping the poor and needy. This is a problem I face regularly. It is so easy to just write the check. It is of value of course, but it is the cheap way out. The real cost comes when you don’t cross the street from the homeless person. When you don’t change lanes to avoid the person asking for help on the street corner and actually engage with them.
That is what I have taken away from reading this book. They are my poor people too. I am willing to do my part. Maybe a visit to the local SVDP shop is a good place to start.
Thank you for the opportunity to have taken part in this exercise. Reading and reflecting on this book was an interesting, thought provoking experience that enriched lent for me.
Although I love the stories Jane tells about the folks who come to (and work at) the thrift shop, it’s her reflection and wisdom that will most stick with me, I think.
Some pearls from this week’s reading:
“Our worrying was such a waste of time.”
“But pray-ers can’t be choosers.”
“Compassion…is the only qualification a person needs…Good health is merely an option.”
“They continue to forgive me…for my busybody attempts to organize God’s work for him.”
And from the interview after Chapter 19:
“It’s the love that is offered that matters most. That’s what changes the world because it changes US.”
Thanks, Jane, for offering us this tutorial on how to love. May the Lord continue to bless you.
“there is no way to clean up silence” – how very true, in all relationships. Communication means a dialog between two or more, but silence cuts that off.
It is perhaps foolish to just hope for miracles; but they do happen more often when one prays for them, and especially when the beneficiaries of the miracles are others. (I think God will give all the prayers from people saying, “Please let me win the Mega Millions jackpot” all the attention that each prayer deserves.)
I loved the chapter about the terminally ill woman – God does answer prayers, just not always in the way we expect For Jane and the shelter not to turn down the offer of a terminally ill woman was a blessing – to the woman who came in with problems that were right up the terminally ill woman’s alley, to the terminally ill woman, and to Jane herself
Many thanks, Jane, for having written this book, and many thanks to Creighton University for choosing me (me! I’m just a casino dealer in Cajun Louisiana, one who misses Mass far too often) to be one of the twenty-five official readers of this book and contributors to this weblog. And I still have not found the nearest St. Vincent de Paul store, as there apparently is not one in my town. When I find it, if this blog is still up and operational, I will post about finding it.But I have been touched and pricked by this book; and perhaps the next time I see a someone at the intersection with the sign that says “NEED FOOD” I won’t just turn my head and pass by the way.
I will end this (perhaps) final reflection with two Bible quotations:
Michah 6:8: “You have been told what is good, and what the LORD requires of you: to do the right and to love goodness, and walk humbly with God.”
Hebrews 13:2: “Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.”
WEEK 6
The theme of death needed to come at some point in the book, and it came through Christine’s story. By her strong desire to help in the thrift store, Christine was really dying to her self-interest. This was her agony and not the cancer. Instead of demanding piety she was giving herself to others. She turned outwardly not inwardly. She wanted to protect the poor and not herself. What a magnificent lesson for me to die to self-interest, just as Christ did, and not to worry because “maybe there will be no tomorrow”.
“By intertwining their roots with mine, by struggling together with the practical mechanisms of how best to help the poor….” is a clear reflection for me of Christ’s body building. “Through him the whole structure is held together and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord” (Ephesians 3:21).
Christ’s body is built by different vocations, as Saint Paul suggests in Ephesians chapter 4 referring to the graces that each of us receives: “And he gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers”.
The joy and satisfaction of volunteering is not coming from what I/we do or accomplish but from the fact that I/we have a relationship with Jesus through the poor.
My present is all I have. TODAY IS A GIFT. “Here I am Lord; I come to do your will” (Psalm 40).
I can start as a small mustard seed.
Rodolfo, you have put into words what I have been struggling to say for the past two years. Thank you! I am often introduced as someone who “gets more from serving the poor than she gives.” Which is true, but it is not my purpose in helping souls to get something more from them. The Joy of relationship you speak of is a beautiful way to say it. I have received not only an enhanced relationship with Jesus, but also a real relationship with people who used to be frightening, or frustrating, or invisible, to me. The gift I have received is the healing of estrangement from my brothers and sisters who I didn’t even recognize as my brothers and sisters.
Your mustard seed is already sprouting, Rodolfo. Water it often.
Okay, I’ll admit it… I enjoy studying and discussing theology.
However, when I read Jane’s story about four ladies who were each facing homelessness, I wondered if I stay in my isolated theological ivory tower too often.
All four ladies had challenging situations. I could sense Jane’s uncomfortableness when she tried to help each lady. I feel a similar unsettling gnawing inside when I reach out to those less materially blessed in Appalachia.
Three ladies cried when working on their problems with Jane. The last lady was beyond tears though. She was almost resigned to bad things happening. Hopelessness seemed to ooze from her. This is what the first Good Friday must have been like.
Jane’s challenge to me this Lent (and beyond) is to more closely listen to people’s stories (the joys and the hurts), meet Jesus there, and help how and where I can.
Everyone has brokenness inside and longs to hear the Good News of Resurrection. Hopefully, I can bring the promise of Resurrection by more genuinely walking with and listening to those God invites me to meet.
Thanks Jane for being God’s voice this Lent.
When I found out that this year’s Lent book was about a thrift shop, I wanted to read it at once. I grew up on thrift shops and jumble sales – my family is very thrifty – and I hoped that reading it would help me give better service in something I love to do.
I volunteer once a month for an admirable institution called a give-and-take market. People bring things they don’t need, which are in good enough condition that someone else might want them (some people interpret this rather flexibly….) and take whatever they want. One is not obliged to balance taking and giving, so one could come with a lot of stuff and take little or nothing home, or come with little or nothing and go home with several bagfuls. The volunteers pack the stuff up at the end and put it in the storeroom for next time. We weed out the rubbish and throw it away discreetly: I take torn and hopelessly stained garments for my veterinarian, who uses them for bedding for the stray cats she looks after.
The give-and-take market has been running for about six or seven years now and has accumulated a host of regulars. It mixes up people from all sorts of backgrounds who would otherwise not meet each other, which is one of its nicest features, especially since people have got into the habit of bringing things for each other or looking out for clothes that would suit one another.
After reading Jane’s book, I find that I view the market somewhat differently –as something that we all do for one another, facilitated by the volunteers, rather than being a service the volunteers provide. When people used to say to me, “You are doing holy work here,” I used to brush it off and act embarrassed; now I say, “No, WE are doing holy work here – all of us. But you are quite right about the holy work, because the giving and the friendliness are like the tip of the iceberg of the kingdom of heaven.”
I used to be much more focussed on being efficient and spent my time haring round folding and tidying garments, but now I have become much more relaxed about spending time chatting and asking people what has been happening in their lives lately and how they are getting on. (It really helps that we have more volunteers nowadays: at one point I used to have to do it on my own or with just one or two people, which was very strenuous.) I am also trying to be more appreciative and to remember to thank people for bringing things.
I have been praying before the market for some time now, although my prayers tend to be along the lines of “Please God, don’t let it rain till closing time/Please God, help me keep my temper…” but now I find that I also come home and pray about the details of other people’s lives, “Please God, help X keep her temper when her husband exasperates her by bringing home the stuff she brought to the market to get rid of….” or “Please God, help Y find some more dog-walking jobs since she could really do with the money…”
I really enjoyed reading other people’s reactions to Thrift Store Saints, and Jane’s kind and thoughtful replies to them. I look forward to returning to these pages in the future and reading them again and again.
I volunteer once a month at a “cafe” a local parish has set up for the last Wednesday of every month when people’s money from government checks is stretched thin. People sit at our decorated tables and are served a really fine meal by some very dedicated waiters and waitresses. However, I am struggling with the reality that there are quite a few of our guests who manage to get 4 and 5 desserts, and then there are others who get no desserts because we have run out. I am facing my judgmentalism here because I hate this greediness. i see we all are sinners, capable of greed, capable of judging our neighbors, capable of pettiness. I do wonder how the Christ of the Gospels would handle this. My struggle is, “Where is Christ in this?”
Marilyn, this one’s for you.
“I am struggling with the reality that there are quite a few of our guests who manage to get 4 and 5 desserts, and then there are others who get no desserts because we have run out.”
“I do wonder how the Christ of the Gospels would handle this.”
Christ of the Gospels will assert this scriptural passage which He used in countering the devil in His first temptation: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Mt 4:4)
This episode in Jesus’ life (Mk 1:32-38) can give us a lift.
“That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick…The whole town gathered at the door, and Jesus healed many who had various diseases….
“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. Simon and his companions went to look for him and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you.”
“Jesus replied, ‘Let us go somewhere else – to the nearby villages – SO I CAN PREACH THERE ALSO. THAT IS WHY I HAVE COME.’” (Underscoring mine)
We can factor out 2 elements:
1. The Deed or The Doing
2. The Word or The Preaching
The Deed is the means while The Word is the end.
The Deed paves the way for The Word to penetrate the fortress of man’s heart.
The Deed is healing of the sick. If Christ of the Gospels stops here, he would only be deemed as a healer. It would take the Preaching of The Word by Jesus Himself to be deemed as The Christ.
The Deed is serving the dessert. If you stop here, you would only be deemed as a good person. It would take the Preaching of the Word by you yourself to be deemed as a Christian.
Being deemed as a good person is self-serving. Being deemed as a Christian is God-serving. No wonder after a Deed and being exulted as a good person, oftentimes, people don’t follow this up with Preaching the Word.
If it takes a miracle of multiplying the desserts in order to Preach the Word, then let it be done.
“How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’” (Romans 10:14-15)
My final response is to the anecdote about the woman who is a ‘greeter’ at a department store.
Visualizing the whole interaction in my mind, I found her vulnerability to the vagaries of life painful to witness.
Excruciatingly painful.
Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI writes:
The word of God first meets the world in compassion, not judgement.
He goes on further to say: For it to do this, however, requires that we first hold it long enough inside of ourselves for it to gestate into compassion.
This Lenten season has proven to be a gestation period for me.
Thanks to the efforts of the Creighton Collaborative Ministry Office, the opportunity to hear of and to read Jane’s book was presented to me. The stories from the book, coupled with thoughtful and thought-provoking blog entries have provided concrete examples of the point of intersection where the word of God does indeed meet the world.
To conclude, it was hard to keep up as I had never been involved in a blog before, but I feel privileged to have been part of something much bigger than myself.
I also feel blessed to come away with a clearer vision of how I can contribute to making the ‘us’ in ‘Give us this day our daily bread’, truly inclusive.
“Theology is talking about God when God is not in the room” and “It is not good when the poor are slient”. Great statements for reflection – it is much easier for me to relate to God in my head, this chapter reminds me that He wants me to relate to Him in my heart. That I should celebrate the loud, demanding, angry – it is better than the silent. I also love the minimum requirements of SVDP – sompassion for the poor – everything else is optional. I pray to be more discerning and to accept help where it is offered even if I think the help is “useless” – I need to trust more and hope that the bread and fish also multiply for me.
A vey happy Easter to all at the Knuth household, to Maureen, Andy and the team at Creighton and especially to my co-readers. You have really enriched Lent for me this year. Thank you
Jane, I have enjoyed reading this book and being a part of this Lenten Journey experience. This process has really helped me to stay focused on Lent. How it is far more than giving something up for forty days. You are a great writer and story teller Jane, so easy to read and so enlightening. You brought to life each and every person and the love and respect that you have for each person we came to know is very evident as you introduced them to us. Ashes, we rise again from ashes from the good we have failed to do, we rise again from ashes to create ourselves anew, give our stumblings directions give our vision wider view.
This lenten song has such a powerful message as did Janes book. My hearts prayer is much the same, God keep my eyes open to see, my ears open to hear, my heart open to feel and my spirit open to be led by you! Thank you for your powerful message Jane, it has touched my heart and opened my spirit to look deeper at myself and others.
As I read the last lines of Jane’s book, I believe I became a little sad. For the last six weeks this book has been my Lenten companion and a beautiful companion at that. This book is full of beauty, sadness, desperation, anger, humor. Jane’s words bring to life experiences that are in so many ways foreign to me. They have opened up my eyes a bit more to the needs and sufferings of so many. Jane’s stories in many ways hit me in the face, woke me up…made me realize that in spite of the difficulties in my own life, I am quite fortunate. It gave me new reasons to be truly grateful. It also showed how God “must have his reasons.” and how in some way or other he does provide…we just have to be open to him. Thank you, Jane, for a beautiful book and Lenten journey.
I feel a little like a fraud accepting such gratitude. Remember that these stories were all first a gift to me. I was given the distinct honor of writing them down and sharing them. Now, they are your stories to share. It feels wonderful to have put them into capable, sensitive hands and hearts. Share them extravagantly!
And don’t be afraid to share all the stories God personally puts in your lives.
Jane, thank you for your beautiful book. Because of your book, my Lenten journey has been so much richer. I ready it at my Hour at Adoration on TUE (I needed to limit myself to ONLY then, as I would have devoured it).
Happy Easter and again thank you for such a wonderful experience.