Parish Missions

A RADICAL DECISION TO LOVE

There is a maxim in twelve-step spiritualities: "Let go and let God." This seems to be a principal theme in the Scriptures we proclaim today.

The widow of Zarephath and the widow at the temple treasury are, above all, examples of that maxim. Both women come to give all they have in a decision that was rooted in trust. It is not by accident that the Scriptures use two women to make this point. And not just any women, but widows, who, in the culture of their day, were virtually considered “non-persons” because they were not attached to a man. Jesus heralds the widow in the Gospel in direct contrast to the arrogance and self-importance of the religious leaders of his day.

I would propose that our reflection on trusting self-sacrifice find its contemporary model in the independent, “non-attached” women of today, our country’s religious women.

So often we associate the motivation of acts of self-giving with a feeling. Yet true self-giving is not a feeling but a decision: a radical personal decision to place others before self. And that decision must be rooted in trust -- trust that our gift of self will bring about a greater wholeness in our relationship with God and with the human community to which we offer ourselves. I cannot think of another segment of our Catholic faith that better models this self-giving than our vowed religious women.

Theirs is the self-giving of the cross. Christ trusted that his own giving of self would, in the fullest sense, celebrate his relationship with his Father and with his sisters and brothers for whom he gave his life. In the Eucharist, we celebrate the Sacrament of that self-giving love. In our reception of the Body of and Blood of Christ we say "AMEN!" as an affirmation that we too will accept the call to that same self-giving, to that radical decision to love.

This "AMEN!" cannot just be some feeling. Rather it must be a radical decision rooted in trust that demands something more than words alone. That "AMEN!" announces a decision. Our response means that we will live out our discipleship, as do religious women, by being the Body of Christ to the world in all the daily acts of self-giving. No one who has had personal dealing with religious women in recent years can deny that their lives have become more than ever before a model of a discipleship rooted in a decision to live in the ways of the compassionate, inclusive Christ.

For example, in the family, giving of self might be in the form of quality time with a family member who might be neglected, who might be estranged, or who simply needs someone to listen. A friend recently told me that her extended family had changed their Christmas gift exchange from the purchase of gifts to spending some quality time during the coming year with the relative or friend whose name is drawn. She reflected that this exchange was going to be more costly for some than buying a gift.

In our parish communities, the example of religious women in pastoral ministry invites imitation by the sharing of talents. There is no one who could not in some way contribute to the building of community: becoming a greeter, joining the choir, helping with our youth ministry, visiting the sick, going to a wake of a parishioner. But whatever we do to meet the needs of the parish community will mean a self-giving that demands a decision.

In the wider Church we might be called to live out our Eucharistic giving of self by providing for others through our treasure. In a few weeks we will again be asked to support the retirement of our nation’s religious. For more than a century, the temporal needs of religious sisters who managed hospitals and taught in schools were often shamefully neglected. That annual appeal invites us to a response that mirrors their years of self-sacrifice.

In this Eucharist then, we are called to respond to Jesus' self-giving love. We are asked give of our time, our talent, our treasure for the building of the reign of God. We do so in imitation of the widows of today's Scriptures as well as the religious women whose vowed “Amen” echoes down the centuries as a model of a radical decision for others rooted in trust.