The Gift That Cost Us

“I have nothing baked; there is only a handful of flour in my jar and a little oil in my jug. Just now I was collecting a couple of sticks, to go in and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die.”

 I have been a freelance reporter for regional and community papers for the past ten years. The majority of my work has been researching and composing human interest pieces, and those assignments have allowed me to witness and learn about the efforts of extraordinary people who are devoted to making their own corner of the world more beautiful, more just, and more loving.

 Many of these pieces, naturally, have focused on individuals of means who use their wealth to help others. But in contrast, I’ve also had the pleasure of writing about very ordinary people — those who really have no wealth to offer at all, or who are actually giving of themselves in spite of a scarcity of resources. Oftentimes the story I write has centered on their volunteer or community fundraising work, but sometimes it simply highlights a single act of sacrifice or kindness.

 The contributions of the wealthy people I have written about are noble, and I was (and am) very happy to highlight them. We should admire and emulate any act of charity or philanthropy. But if I’m being honest, theirs are not the names that linger in my memory. Theirs are not the stories that challenge me to look in the mirror and ask myself: am I giving until it hurts?

 When I wake up at the beginning of a long, demanding day, I usually feel completely unequal to what I know God will be asking of me. I have so little to give, I think. I have so little strength. In these hopeless moments, it is easy to explain away the obligation to give anything at all. Surely God doesn’t expect it of me. Surely He knows it would be too much to ask — too much love, too much patience, too much effort.

 In these moments, I call to mind the gifts I’ve written about that really cost the giver — and I almost never remember the million-dollar donations.

I remember the father who forgave his daughter’s murderer — not because it brought him peace, he told me, but because the murderer himself needed forgiveness. I remember the graphic designer who left the business he helped to found because of his partner’s insistence on taking an abortion clinic as a client. I remember the autistic man whose ministry offers fellowship and counsel to other autistic Catholics, even in the face of his own anxiety. I remember the young deacon with a stutter who found it difficult to preach but did so anyway because the Gospel must be shared, and he had a duty to share it.

And I always, always remember the families of our country’s veterans — the ones who came home and the one who did not.

 Today’s readings remind us that the gifts we offer to God from our poverty are far more precious than those we offer from our abundance. We can be talking about a poverty of money, a poverty of time, a poverty of patience, a poverty of goodwill, or even a poverty of faith. Whatever it is, we think we don’t have enough, so we think we have nothing to give. But how precious are the gifts that really cost us — the ones that we fear we cannot afford.

 How precious was the “small cupful” of the widow’s water, and the “bit of bread” she offered Elijah. How precious were the two small coins the widow gave at the temple. How precious was the last drop of blood that fell from the side of Christ as he hung from the cross. These were the gifts that meant everything.

 

Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman

Happy Mother’s Day

Last week we rejoiced with 11 of our children who made their First Holy Communion, which was followed by the crowning of Mary. This week we are celebrating and honoring all Mother’s. Mother’s Day is a perfect moment to thank our mothers for giving us life. As St. Pope John Paul II so beautifully pointed out, part of the genius of woman is the indispensable role she plays in showing all of humanity the tremendous value of every human person. Our mothers have this role in a distinguished way. They give us life.  But a mother’s role doesn’t stop there. We know they are meant to feed us, to love us, to raise us, to pass on the faith and lead us to Jesus, to teach us by their actions and words that we are so important that God died to save us and make us his friend. How desperately our world needs mothers and their witness to human life.   What a task! What an amazing person a mother is! 

So to mothers everywhere, we say: “Thank you, God Bless you, May your lives be filled with happiness today and every day.” And let us offer a special prayer for our mothers who have gone ahead of us that God will bring them into the joy of his kingdom.

 Blessings on all Mother’s,

Fr. Socorro

Mother’s Day Blessing

A Prayer for Mothers and All Women

 

Heavenly Father,
from the beginning you have chosen to entrust
the human person to mothers in a special way.
We thank and praise you for the gift of mothers;
for their tenderness, care, and compassion,
for their intuition and encouragement,
for commitment and sacrifice.
Bless all mothers and those who stand in for mothers this day.
Keep, strengthen, and refresh them
in your loving care.
May they be blessed by our
 open-hearted love and gratitude. Amen.

 

Staying Connected to One Another in Christ

 After college, I entered a program in Rome that required me to be away from the country for two years with no possibility of returning home. These were the days before the internet, Zoom, and Facebook, when even phone calls were expensive. As the time for me to leave drew near, I was feeling sad at the possibility of losing touch with so many people I had come to love. When I shared this with my pastor, he told me, “The Jesus you will be praying to in Rome is the same Jesus your friends will be praying to here at home.” Those simple words reminded me that, even half a world away, I would remain connected with my friends through the mystery of faith and prayer.

At the Last Supper, Jesus faced the prospect of leaving his disciples. He wanted them to know that although he would no longer be with them physically, his presence would nonetheless still be very real and active among them. And so, Jesus used the image of the vine to describe the ongoing connection he would have with his followers even after his death and resurrection. Just as the branch is vitally connected to the vine, so the believer is vitally connected to Jesus. And just as, apart from the vine, the branch shrivels up and dies, so those who are not connected to Jesus have no life within them. The Last Supper is the only place where Jesus uses the image of the vine, but it repeats a theme which echoes throughout the gospel of John  that Jesus “stays” or “remains in” his disciples and that they “stay” or “remain in” him. For example, when Jesus asks the first disciples what they want, they do not ask him, “Where are you going?” but, “Where are you staying?” This “remaining” points to the mystery of Jesus’ ongoing presence within his disciples.

The fact that we each sprout individually from the vine which is Christ does not mean that we are separated from one another. Jesus connects us not only to himself but to one another. Together we form the one vine which extends its branches throughout the world and bears fruit in love. The woman who folds her hands to pray in Tennessee draws life from the same source as the man who kneels down in Bangladesh. The teenager who visits the sick in Buenos Aires does so with the same love that moves a rich woman to give her coat to a homeless person in Lisbon. It is the same Jesus who continues to be present and active throughout the world just as he promised his disciples.

At the Eucharist, we gather to witness the transformation of “the fruit of the vine and work of human hands” into the very life blood of Christ. It is the source of our life and its highest expression. We offer with the gifts of bread and wine all that we are and all that we have done. It does not always seem like much. But we offer it precisely so that it can be transformed into something beyond our power to achieve. Pondering the mystery of the life of Jesus within us will make us grow in our longing to be united with him through Holy Communion. And it strengthens our sense of unity with other Christian believers throughout the world.

In Christ we remain connected to one another through him.
Douglas Sousa

Prayer

Lord Jesus, You are the vine and we are the branches.
Because of you, we are alive. Because of you, we bear fruit.
As we reach out to you, keep us mindful of the needy who yearn to be reached out to.
As we stretch out our hands to you, let us also stretch out our hands to the hungry so that the fruit we bear in you may nourish others.

Amen