You are capable of saintliness. That is what Theo often says to ordinary folks when he shares a coffee with them at the local coffee shop. Even if Theo only met this person a few minutes earlier, he looks into their eyes and says that he sees someone close to saintliness. Theo is the main character in a recent novel, Theo of Golden. He sees something in others’ faces that they often do not recognize within themselves.
Most of us see ourselves as ordinary at best or more likely flawed. We know our own shortcomings and missteps. It’s difficult to see ourselves as radiating God’s goodness. Sometimes we simply plod through the day. Not long ago, a church couple had me over just to share a slice of cake and specialty coffee. I left feeling deep joy. How are people so thoughtful and kind? What evokes within us that sense of deep satisfaction and awareness that we do matter?
On Sunday nights, a group of adults serve as youth group sponsors, playing laser tag, swimming, and making paper airplanes with our teens. Where do they get that patience? On Mondays, folks gather on Independence Boulevard to make chicken tetrazzini for 800 food-insecure neighbors. This takes grace beyond measure. On Wednesday nights, 30 to 40 folks gather to rehearse singing and bell playing. Incredible talent and dedication. On Monday mornings, the green team weeds the lawn while a group in the church kitchen divides the Sunday flowers into bouquets for members in hospitals and nursing homes. They have an eye and a gift for beauty. On Wednesdays, a group teaches kids at Hartman Elementary to read. They sacrifice for strangers. And on Thursdays, folks come in to fill the communion cups while others knit hats and sew dresses for children born into fragile families. Tedious and critical work.
But why? Why do we serve? Surely there are other good ways to spend our limited time and talent? In the early days of the church, the Apostle Paul wrote to his friends in the Corinthian church and apologized that he could not visit them. He describes his wish for them as members of Christ’s church:
“We are workers with you for your joy, because you stand firm in the faith.” (2 Corinthians 1:24)
What I love is seeing someone engage in some act at church, maybe serving popcorn in Centennial Park or serving communion to a patient at Hospice House. And I recognize that something of a holy joy has been evoked in the one serving. Or as Paul writes, “We are helpers of your joy.”
The time we give away is meant to be an expression of the deep joy God has planted in each of us. After all, you are capable of saintliness.
With gratitude,
Carla
