I never go to mass and am not moved to tears.
Never.
I don’t know why that is. It seems to to be the only place this happens.
Today, it was everything about the mass. It touches my soul. from the readings to the music. The place is simply sacred to me, safe, inviting, free, beautiful, and welcoming.
We had a sister speak who is of the Franciscan order of Oldenburg. She is doing mission work in Eastern Kentucky, which is where I have lived my life for the last 20 years. She speaks of the needs there, among the people of Appalachia. And as I looked around me at the mostly well to do, and maybe not the well to do but well enough to be in mass, in decent clothes, clean, and ready to give God his 45 minutes, I wondered how many knew, and I mean really KNEW, of the need this sister so touchingly spoke of. I wanted to not be one of them. I wanted to do more, give more, help more.
She spoke of a couple, who have so much need and yet give so much more. Their needs are great, a roof, siding for a house built from the scraps gleaned from their old house after it was trashed by a tornado, by the hands of one woman and her blind husband. The wife, the husbands hands and eyes, he had the construction knowledge, imparting it to the wife so she could build. A partnership. Each bringing essential parts to create the whole. But not without God’s help. Prayer from both, to help create what they needed. And it was created.
Sister spoke of the desperate poverty, addiction, domestic violence, and other plagues that the forsaken in this country deal with.
No shoes, no shirt no service? How many times have YOU seen that sign posted on a door? And laughed? Or mocked it?
Luke 11: 9
“And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
Not in Eastern Kentucky.
No shoes means she has no shoes.
No shirt may mean his shirt is on his youngest to keep him warm that day.
They may never see the inside of a store. Not on the scale you and I do. They never see that sign.
This is the reality that is every day life for many in Eastern Kentucky. No electricity, no running water, no plumbing, water from a dirty polluted well, sickness that never sees a doctor, no education. And lots and lots of No Hope.
You say, “well, its not like they can’t have it too, its available” We are very self righteous about our privilege, aren’t we? We worked for what we have, we have a right to have it.
It’s not, available, if you can’t get to or from it. Its not free. Its not available with no money. Electric company’s don’t give it away. Ever.
What if this was your life?
Could you survive?
I could not. I don’t think. I am spoiled. I was given an education that I took for granted. I live in a house I take for granted, paid for by someone I took for granted for many years. I drive a car simply because I can. I run because I no longer do anything to get exercise and I am fat. I take for granted that my “necessities” will be there. I worked for them, I deserve them.
But…
do I do enough for others? With all I have, do I do enough?
I don’t think so. I think I can do more.
That was the question I walked out of mass with today.
Can I do more?
I prayed I would win the lottery, so I could help that woman live the rest of her life in comfort. I would like that too. But, do I need the lottery win to be able to do more?
I went to church today because I could, and mom goes every Sunday, so I drive her. Thats why I started going to church again. Because I had to take mom. Now its more than that. Now its because I need that guidance from God, more than just on Sunday. I need it hourly, minute by second, through every day. Now church is a gift, before it was a chore.
I took my camera today. But I did not take a single photo. How can you shoot something thats not tangible, visible, touchable? You can photograph need, and want, and have, but “I want to do more” is not photographable. That must come from the heart and must be given freely, without the expectation of return or reward. I want to do more. Now I have to figure out how. I know I will, and what ever I have to offer will be enough, because it will be more than nothing.
So the next time we see a beggar, maybe that dollar we have, thats a little extra jingling in our pocket, will be the very one that puts a shirt or shoes on a child with none. I will find a way to spare it, and not judge as I do. Judging is not our place, opening a door to a neighbor in need is. I hope that that door, should it ever be mine, would be opened willingly and without malice, judgement, or impatience with the need. I hope its opened with joy, and forgiveness, and patience for those who have so much less than I. Because I really do have so much more than I actually need.
Just knock. I will open the door.
Knocking…
All Over the Map 