What Keeps Me Going: Doing His Work

My last post was a glimpse into how God speaks to me in prayer, even when I don’t notice. Even more often, I find he speaks through me, often also when I have no idea he’s doing anything particular. Twice this summer I was blown away by his power at work in me, so stunned by his goodness that I just couldn’t help but share.

The Right Place at the Right Time

img_20160620_232608
Meh. I’ve seen worse.

I was at a super posh school in England. So posh you thought you were driving up to Pemberley when you approached the school. So I was a little nervous, because that kind of school isn’t always thrilled with the “Stop sinning, Jesus is all that matters” message I give. But I knew the Lord had sent me, so off I went to shout about Jesus.

The kids were pretty good, laughing in all the right places and generally attentive. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of conversation afterward, but I told them I’d be around if they wanted to chat.

As most of them filed out of the gym, eight or ten of the cool girls walked up to me.

“You were talking about, like, not drinking and not dating boys,” the leader said. “What did you mean by that?”

Interesting, because I’d said hardly anything about either. But okay. So I talked a little about drinking in moderation and dating.

“Don’t date boys, though, date men. Boys treat you like a thing, men treat you like a person. But you’re too young to date men, so I’d say it’s best not to date at all right now. When you get out of high school and start dating, remember this: you’re looking for a man who’s going to love you like Jesus does, who’s going to be crucified for you.” On and on, with the usual “you’re so beautiful” and “God loves you so much.”

Until one of them started crying. “I wish you’d come a few years ago.”

And I pulled her into a hug and kept telling her how God loves her and she doesn’t deserve to be treated badly and God wants to forgive her. And girl after girl started to cry.

“Girls, if I had a priest you were never going to see again, would any of you want to go to confession?”

The leader of the pack’s hand shot into the air and I motioned to my friend, whose husband is a Catholic priest. “Will you ask Father if he can hear confessions?”

Then I stood for an hour in the hallway while most of these girls went in to confession with an incredibly compassionate priest. (If you’re a woman concerned with how a priest will handle your very painful confession, a married hospital chaplain is a good bet.) Each one came out crying and I hugged her, telling her how proud I was, reminding her that she was brand new, that she never had to confess those sins again.

img_20160826_164438Some took a little more persuading than others. One girl in particular sat silently crying for nearly an hour, shaking her head every time I suggested that she go to confession. Finally, when there was only one girl left with her, she looked at me solemnly and asked, “Do you think I should go?”

“Honey, we just ripped the scabs off some really deep wounds. You can go in and get healing or you can just keep bleeding and hurting. I promise you’ll feel better.” Off she went.

I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve given some variation of that talk at least a hundred times. It was so obviously the Holy Spirit who had spoken to them, the Holy Spirit who had sent them to talk to me, the Holy Spirit who had put a girl who believed in confession in the alpha position in the group. It was the Holy Spirit who’d sent that priest with me, the Holy Spirit who’d given us a believing teacher who was happy to excuse the girls from missed classes. I was stunned and thrilled and absolutely overwhelmed by God whose mercy is powerfully at work even when I’ve written people off.

Who knows how long-lasting that moment of conversion will be? But on that June day, those girls knew that they were loved. Whatever happens next, I pray that the devil doesn’t rob them of that feeling of love and mercy. If they can look back and remember that, God will continue to do amazing things.

God Speaks When I Write, Too

I didn’t start this blog because I wanted to be a blogger or a writer. I didn’t start it because I thought I could make any difference with what I write. I don’t really consider myself a writer.1 I only really write so that people will hear about me and invite me to come speak. That’s always felt more like my real mission. And sometimes (the last several months?) I don’t manage to write anything at all because it doesn’t seem like the best use of my time when there are talks to give and people to counsel.

God’s blessed me with a lot of positive feedback about my blog from people who’ve really encountered him through the words he gives me. And often they approach me and tell me the ways he’s used my blog to speak to them. But this one was particularly striking.

“Your blog made me Catholic,” she said.

“Aw, praise God! Thanks so much!” I assumed she meant she’d been looking for truth, had been searching for explanations on the Eucharist or Church authority or something, and had found my apologetics articles. It’s very exciting to have been a part of that process, but I’m not saying anything every other apologist isn’t saying. And if you were searching, the Lord was going to lead you to truth eventually.

“I was raised Catholic but had become an evangelical years before. I was actually an evangelical missionary. I had two degrees from evangelical schools and a friend of mine who’s an Anglican priest shared your Advice to Priests.”

“Oh, and you got sucked down the rabbit hole?”

“Nope, I just read that one. And suddenly I realized how much I was missing. I saw this beauty and power and love and I wanted to come home.”

“Wait, you only read my advice to priests? And that did it?”

Just call me Catherine of Siena.
Just call me Catherine of Siena.

“I just knew I needed the Eucharist and confession and all of it. So I went to confession and went back to Mass. And the next week I told my boss that I’d gone to a Catholic church. ‘To evangelize them?’ she asked. ‘No, to worship.’ And I was fired.”

I was stunned. Here was this piece that wasn’t for her. It wasn’t for lay people and it wasn’t for Protestants. But God works where he wills, and this was, somehow, what she needed not only to reconsider the faith of her childhood but to embrace it even at the cost of her livelihood.2 This was clearly God’s work, not mine.

 

I hope it doesn’t come across as bragging, this pair of praise reports, because none of it had anything to do with me. Each of these occasions came as a total surprise to me, as I trudged through my ordinary work. There are times when I know my talk was spot on or a piece I wrote was really powerful, and I can praise God when results come from those things, but they’re God’s work through my gifts. These two are God’s work despite my misgivings or distraction or whatever. And that’s an incredibly humbling thing, both to see what he can do in spite of my best efforts and to wonder what he could do if I were better at getting out of the way.

It does get me wondering: how many people will we meet in eternity who owe their salvation to something we did, never knowing it would impact anyone? Not even something so big as a talk or a blog post, just a smile at the sign of peace or a comment on a Facebook post. Every thing we do ripples into eternity, for good or for ill. May God use us well and may we surrender completely to him.

 

  1. Not fishing for compliments here. I know I do it pretty well, it’s just not really my thing. []
  2. She got another job eventually and is doing fine, though please say a prayer for her mother who’s dying. []

What Keeps Me Going: Hearing His Voice

I live an incredible life. I’m shockingly blessed, getting to visit amazing places and encounter marvelous people. I’m privileged to walk with people as they come back to the Lord or encounter him in a personal way for the first time. Believe me, I’m grateful for my life.

But it’s not always easy. For every exotic location, there’s a 12-hour drive. For every amazing meal, there’s a lunch of cheez-its.1 For every new friendship, there’s an hour of longing for consistent community. And with the online detractors and uninterested audiences and awkward hosts, it can be really tough to keep going.

The Lord knows that I’m weak, though, so he keeps filling my heart by showing me how he’s working in me, often despite my best efforts. Here’s a glimpse into two of these amazing moments.

Hearing His Voice

I was at an evangelization conference in London, surrounded by people who know the Lord intimately. They kept talking about Jesus telling them very specific things when evangelizing people. “God told me someone in the crowd was suffering from divorce,” “the Lord sent me to talk to an old man,” that kind of stuff. And I kept listening to them and getting more and more discouraged. These people are straight out of the book of Acts, hearing God send them to specific people with specific words. Meanwhile, I’m just sowing seed on any soil I can reach. Maybe I’m doing this wrong. Maybe I don’t really know him the way I think I know him.

I sure didn't look mopey, but what can I say? I'm a born performer.
I sure didn’t look mopey, but what can I say? I’m a born performer.

So I was all mopey about how everybody else is a better pray-er than me, and suddenly it was time to go give a talk. I wasn’t feeling it, but the show must go on. I knew, though, that I needed someone to pray over me–now. So I started walking through Leicester Square looking for somebody to ask. Now, I’ve maybe felt a need to be prayed over four or five times in the last four years. But I was desperate for it, and suddenly I saw a guy I’d met a few nights before. I knew nothing about him beyond his name, but I walked straight up to him and asked him. “Will you pray over me?”

Now, this was a very charismatic conference, packed with people for whom this wouldn’t be an odd request. So when he looked startled and just said, “No,” I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ll pray for you. But I can’t pray over you!” Okay. So I found some nuns, got prayed over, and went on about my day.

I didn’t think anything of it until he came and found me later.

“I’m really sorry about earlier.”

“No worries, I get it. It was a random request.”

“Well no, it’s just that…when I heard you speak the other day,” (in a talk that wasn’t about prayer at all) “I just knew that I needed to be better about praying with and over people. But I was so uncomfortable with the idea that I kept trying to push it back. This morning, I couldn’t get it out of my head that this is what God is asking me to do. And then you walk up out of nowhere and straight up ask me to do it? It was too much. But now I know: I have to have the courage to pray over people. Thank you.”

Turns out you can hear and follow God’s prompting without even knowing it. I wonder how often God’s doing amazing things like that–through all of us–and we don’t notice.

When God Speaks in Prayer

I was visiting a town I’ve been to a few times before. One of the ladies there is a particular favorite of mine. I don’t know her terribly well but we’ve spent a good 10 hours in conversation over the last few years, so she’s definitely no stranger.

The day I got to town, I was in prayer and I felt that I needed to pray for her and the babies she’s lost. It was a weird thought, since she’s never told me such a thing, but I did. I meant to bring it up when I saw her the next day, but it seemed out of place, so I let it go. Probably just a random thought.

2016-07-31-19-59-52A few days later we were visiting and out of nowhere she mentioned these babies–lost nearly 20 years ago. So we began talking about them and she started to cry and said she’s never told her friends and never cried about them before. She felt so much guilt over not having mourned them properly, about even feeling relieved when she lost them, what with the insanity of her life at the time, and I could see this incredible pain in her eyes.

And there I was, able to tell her that the Lord had asked me to pray for them and for her. That he’d ordained this conversation, called her to open up and called me to love her through this. I told her that it was okay that she had been in survival mode and that during this Year of Mercy God wants to finally let her grieve and be healed. And we talked about how they’re praying for her and they forgive her for the feelings she couldn’t control. She walked away ready to name her babies and ask their intercession and experience mercy and healing.

This is the kind of conversation I’m blessed to have pretty frequently. But the fact that the Lord had put it on my heart to pray for these children before I even knew they existed just made it so powerful. It was such an affirmation that God speaks in prayer, even when you don’t realize it’s him.

 

And that’s why I keep going. Because I don’t have to know what he’s doing to know he’s working. I don’t have to sense that he’s speaking for him to speak. I don’t even need constant evidence that I’m in his will or that it’s not all in vain. But every once in a while it sure does help.

 

  1. Okay, the cheez-it lunches far outnumber the amazing meals. It keeps me svelte. []

Experiencing the Spirit

I’ve always loved the Holy Spirit rather more than most, I think. For years, I told people he was my favorite person of the Trinity, if it’s not blasphemy to pick favorites among the coequal, coeternal persons in the triune Godhead. When your gifts are as churchy as mine, it’s easy to have powerful experiences of the Holy Spirit. And I certainly have, whether it’s through speaking or giving counsel or just following God’s prompting to visit a random town in Ohio or fly out of Norfolk for no good reason.

I describe him as a power running through my veins, like adrenaline or alcohol or caffeine. He heightens my experience of the world and makes me more alive.

2016-04-06 19.03.13But last week in a powerful homily Father asked us to imagine the Holy Spirit not just within but behind us, catching us up and pushing us along, and the Lord gave me the most beautiful image. I’m sure I can’t describe it adequately, but I think I have to try.

The Spirit is a wind that you can see and feel, a wind that has a personality you can understand, though he speaks only mutely. He communicates by the things he catches up and shows you, the places he draws you, and the way he moves you. When he first begins to blow around you he may be gentle and enticing, but at a certain point he sweeps you off your feet, spinning you around before gently setting you back down. When he takes control, you can choose how to respond. You can fight, clinging to lamp posts and trying to keep charge of your life. And more often than not, he’ll back off and let you continue trudging along through your dreary life, oblivious to the joy and wonder he’s trying to open to you.

But you’ll find that when you fight him you often end up hurting yourself. The less you trust, the more you clench your fists around your own plans and ideas, the more you find your shoulder wrenched, your nails broken, your neck aching from whiplash. When you give in, though, surrendering to the movement you don’t understand, there’s an unexpected comfort and even a whimsy. You might be spun into the air laughing for joy or gently cradled for a moment of rest. The wind is at times warm and comforting, at times a bracing chill to wake you. He’s got emotions, too, that you can sense from how he’s moving but that you also inhale, finding yourself filled with power or clarity or peace amid turmoil. It’s different depending on what he’s doing–he’s nothing if not unpredictable.

Watch this brilliant video for some sense of what I mean, only with more of a personality and taking you into the air as well as around on your feet:1

I’ve been sitting with this image of the Spirit all week, allowing myself to be caught up in his dance and filled with his power. Sometimes I see myself reaching out to grab something that isn’t for me and left tumbling, falling, falling before suddenly he catches me again and puts me back where I belong.

flameIt’s somehow both thrilling and peaceful, a gentle ride on Aslan’s breath or an hour in a tornado. It’s more a relationship with a person than just the motivation and inspiration I’ve felt before. I’m not sure if I’ve described it well enough, but maybe you can pray with this image during the octave of Pentecost, asking the Spirit to show you who he is and how he works. Find someplace still (before the Blessed Sacrament is always best) and picture yourself being caught up and carried about by the Holy Spirit. Maybe it’s terrifying or out of control or just as it should be. Maybe you’re fighting it and the Spirit won’t leave you behind or maybe he leaves you be to try again later. Maybe there’s something specific you grasp that causes you to be pulled out of God’s will. Maybe it’s all too speculative. But this is where my spirit’s been all week and it’s been absolutely lovely to be getting to know the Spirit as a real person, not just a force. Give it a shot and let us know what you think!

  1. There’s some other animated piece, I think, that accomplishes what I’m imagining, but I can’t quite think what. It’s a little bit Toothless the dragon and maybe something from Peter Pan? And a lot of the Genie from Aladdin. And other bits that make it much more personal than this, but this is a start. []

When Being an Easter People Is a Bad Thing

Easter candle liliesHappy Easter, friends! We are an Easter people over here–all 50 days of it. So along with my feasting (and there has been plenty of feasting) all during the Easter season I’ve been trying to use the stories from Acts as much as I can. After all, Acts is our Easter book, right? We read from it every day of Easter. So let’s be all about the Apostles and the amazing work they did, especially during this Easter season!

Until last week when I realized: almost none of the Acts of the Apostles takes place during Easter.1 Because during Easter, the Apostles weren’t out doing anything. For forty days they were being taught by Jesus, learning to forgive sins and feeling their hearts burn within them as he opened the Scriptures to them. And then he ascended. And maybe they felt empowered by the great commission or maybe they felt afraid and alone or maybe they wondered if this wasn’t another 3-day psych-out. But whatever they were feeling, here’s what they did:

They kept to themselves.

“They were continually in the temple praising God,”2 which is great. They “devoted themselves with one accord to prayer, together with some women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.”3 They were in fellowship and in prayer amongst themselves, but they weren’t going out. They weren’t preaching Christ crucified or offering his mercy to the nations.

They had an excuse: they hadn’t yet received the Holy Spirit.

What’s our excuse?

We received the Holy Spirit at baptism and his presence was strengthened in confirmation. We claim his name over our lives every time we cross ourselves. We’ve been called and filled and sent out.

But most of us are still locked in the upper room.

We’ve met the risen Christ and many of us have been transformed. Like Peter our sins have been forgiven, like Mary Magdalene our broken hearts healed, like Thomas our doubts satisfied. We’ve been made new. And now we’re sitting around doing nothing about it.

Oh, we might be in the temple day in and day out. We might be meeting in fellowship and even praying together. But we’re not reaching out to the world.

I wonder what happens when the Spirit comes down as tongues of fire and we refuse even to open the windows, let alone go out into the streets. My hunch is that it doesn’t look pretty and doesn’t end well.

That’s where we’ve been as a Church for far too long. In the West, at least, we’ve been focusing inward, trying (halfheartedly, in most cases) to take care of our own. But when a missionary Church locks itself in an upper room, nobody gets fed.

This year on the Vigil of Pentecost, people all over the world are praying in a special way for an outpouring of the Holy Spirit. They’re praying that the power of God will be released in their lives, that they’ll live in the freedom of the Spirit. I think one of the most powerful ways that we’ll experience this is by giving God permission to touch hearts through us. If we decide that we’re going to unlock the door and walk out into the streets, proclaiming Christ and living the book of Acts, we’ll be transformed just as much as those we meet. We’ll move past Easter (still filled with Alleluias) and live in Pentecost as though it were Ordinary.

This Pentecost, the Spirit is coming down. Let’s open our lives to him and go out to set the world ablaze.

Pentecost

  1. That we know of anyway. Certainly not during the first Easter season. []
  2. Luke 24:53 []
  3. Acts 1:14, though they weren’t really his brothers []

100 Ways to Serve Your Church

Now, we’re all called to serve. And we’ve all got gifts (or so I’m daring to claim) that the world needs. We’ve talked about ways to be pro-life and ways to be a missionary before. But we’re also part of a local church, a parish that we want to help make into more than just a group of strangers who worship together. Ideally, it wouldn’t just be your church, it would be your church home. But how can you, normal and “untalented” as you are, work to build up your parish? Let’s brainstorm:1

  1. Fix the heinous parish website.2
  2. Spearhead the capital campaign.
  3. Strip and seal the pews.
  4. Painting in some church in Illinois that was unlocked on Easter Sunday afternoon.
    Painting in some church in Illinois that was unlocked on Easter Sunday afternoon. Props for the art and the hours.

    Make good Catholic art.

  5. Buy someone else’s good Catholic art to put in the sanctuary.
  6. Iron the altar linens.
  7. Invite your priests to dinner at your home.
  8. Introduce yourself to the mother of littles and ask if she’d like some help during Mass.
  9. Direct traffic in the parking lot after Mass.
  10. Organize refreshments for the parish mission.
  11. Podcast the homilies.
  12. Start a parish Facebook page.
  13. Cook dinner for the youth group.3
  14. Apologize when you’re wrong.
  15. Revamp the parish database to make it more searchable and user-friendly for the office staff.
  16. Take pictures at parish events.
  17. Host a supper club.
  18. Start a system of supper clubs where every new parishioner is invited to two or three different groups to find a good fit and build relationships.
  19. Buy copies of your favorite Catholic books to hand out.
  20. Start a club for anything you enjoy–knitting, fantasy football, ultimate frisbee, macrame,4 you name it. You’re building community!
  21. Sign up for an extra holy hour or six.
  22. Tell the parish office that you’re happy to drive people to Mass who can’t make it on their own.
  23. Easter candle liliesArrange flowers for the sanctuary.
  24. Take blood pressure readings for the elderly one Sunday a month.
  25. Go to confession. Take your kids. Take your neighbors. Take a stranger.
  26. Pray over the list of sick and recently deceased parishioners.
  27. Never complain except to somebody who could do something to fix the situation.
  28. Volunteer to babysit during the moms’ prayer group.
  29. Throw a baby shower for an unwed mother.
  30. Teach a class on something you’re good at–financial planning or modest fashion or cooking on a budget or web design.
  31. Start a group for the unemployed or underemployed in your parish where you can help each other improve your resumes and interview skills.
  32. Lead a monthly children’s holy hour.
  33. Reorganize the parish library. Toss the heresy and set up a display on a featured topic or author each month. (Think May: Mary; June: Sacred Heart; November: Holy Souls.)
  34. Drive the bus for youth group trips to camps or conferences.
  35. Organize a social hour after a different Mass each week.
  36. Offer 5 hours a week of free counseling to parishioners.
  37. Congratulate parents on their children’s behavior during Mass–even if it wasn’t flawless.
  38. Harmonize.
  39. Mine is a very big name, but not in quite the same way.
    Mine is a very big name, but not in quite the same way.

    Foot the bill to bring in a big name speaker.5

  40. Thank Father for a good (or better than usual) homily. Point out specifically what encouraged or challenged you.
  41. Get to know the people going through RCIA. Invite them out to coffee or over for dinner even after they’re received into the Church.
  42. Write an article for the parish bulletin.
  43. Share good Catholic reads on Facebook.
  44. Lead arts and crafts at Vacation Bible School.
  45. Offer to deep clean the super-pregnant mom’s home.
  46. Ask your pastor if there’s anyone in the community who could use a good friend right now.
  47. Schedule a biannual parish blood drive.
  48. Revamp the parish’s business model.6
  49. Offer to spend an hour every night (or a few hours once a week) guarding the church so people are able to come spend time with Jesus.
  50. Organize a fundraiser–a talent show or auction or gala or something. Make sure your poor parishioners can come.
  51. Fix the church’s sound system.
  52. Start a book club where people actually read the books. (The Well-Read Mom is a great one for women.)
  53. When I drove up to St. Anastasia in Troy, MI, I knew that they wanted me there. How can you make your parish welcoming?
    When I drove up to St. Anastasia in Troy, MI, I knew that they wanted me there. How can you make your parish welcoming?

    Introduce yourself to people after Mass.7

  54. Get a group together for a weekly or monthly service project.
  55. Recommend little-known movies with good themes for more articulate writers to review.
  56. Start a blog with icebreaker ideas for youth ministers–yours specifically.
  57. Do all the advertising for a big event.
  58. Repair the church’s 15-passenger van.
  59. Run for parish council.
  60. Give little toys to all the kids after Mass on holy days of obligation.8
  61. Repair Father’s worn-out cassocks and albs.
  62. Find all the parishioners who live in the same neighborhood and put them in touch with each other.
  63. Go door-to-door inviting people to Mass.
  64. Train Sunday school teachers in classroom management.
  65. Be a sign language interpreter at Mass.
  66. Give a guest lecture on stem cell research or global warming or some other sciencey thing.
  67. Like at this one in Jefferson City, MO.
    Girls’ Night in Jefferson City, MO.

    Host a girls’ night. Teach hair and make-up. Or self defense. Or improv. Or wilderness skills. Whatever.

  68. Teach a Catholic parenting class to go along with baptism prep.
  69. Volunteer to be the “funny guy” at youth events. Skits, emceeing, getting pied, eating toothpaste, you’re up for anything.
  70. Design a logo for your parish and other graphic design stuff that I know I need without even knowing what it is.
  71. Organize a summer program for kids in the area.
  72. Dress like Sunday Mass is the highlight of your life.
  73. Tell the parish office about your language skills and offer to serve as an interpreter for parishioners who struggle with English.
  74. Make first communion dresses for underprivileged girls.
  75. Tell people about your experience as a foster parent/organ donor/AA sponsor.9
  76. Don’t be Pollyanna. Share your struggles while still focusing on joy.
  77. Be present in the moment to each person you meet–even if they’re making you late for Mass.
  78. Here's how my niece and nephew did Pentecost. The faces are a response to this prompt: "Smile like the Holy Spirit is descending on you!"
    Here’s how my niece and nephew did Pentecost. The faces are a response to this prompt: “Smile like the Holy Spirit is descending on you!”

    Wear liturgically appropriate colors.

  79. Start meetings with prayer.
  80. If you work in the parish office, treat each person who walks in the door like an immortal soul ransomed by the blood of Christ. Nothing you’re doing on the computer is more important than the child of God standing before you.
  81. Study the history of your parish and give tours of the building.
  82. Put together a survey for the parish polling people on daily Mass and confession times. Compile the data and submit a recommendation to Father.
  83. Look at daily Mass times for all parishes in the area and suggest a schedule to help meet the needs of more people.10
  84. Design and build a Mary garden.
  85. Start a ministry to reach out to those who have recently lost a loved one.
  86. Organize a winter coat drive.
  87. Set up a Lighthouse Catholic Media kiosk at your parish.
  88. Get to Mass early to pray.
  89. Bake for funeral receptions.
  90. Be a sponsor couple for engaged couples. Invite them to your home and share your difficulties as well as your wisdom.
  91. Divide interested parishioners into small groups based on schedule, location, age, and state in life.
  92. Schedule events for senior citizens to build community.
  93. Start a pro-life group. Remember that being pro-life is more than being anti-abortion.
  94. Make awesome t-shirts for the youth group.

    Both shirts by my awesome friend Lindsey (who is available to do design and illustrations, particularly for Catholic stuff) but only the good photo. (She also does photography in N. Carolina and Northern Indiana)
    Both shirts by my awesome friend Lindsey (who is available to do design and illustrations, particularly for Catholic stuff) but only the good photo. (She also does photography in N. Carolina and Northern Indiana)
  95. Make a promotional video for your parish–particularly highlighting your RCIA or Catholics Come Home program.
  96. Invite a non-Catholic or lapsed Catholic to Mass.
  97. Stop by the Church every day to pray. You’ll be amazed to see how it encourages people to see others praying outside of Mass.
  98. Listen to music by different Christian artists. Give out CDs from your favorites.
  99. Trick out the youth room with homemade stadium seating, a stage, and a Nerf arsenal.
  100. Figure out where your gifts and the Church’s needs intersect. Do that.

I know a lot of these sound trivial. But take directing traffic. You may think, “Any fool can direct traffic. I’m just standing here waving my arms like an idiot.” But I know souls that would be saved if someone were facilitating the madhouse of the after Mass rush to brunch. Think how appreciative you would be if someone just took that in hand. And maybe you’d be more likely to come back. And maybe you’d approach that person and thank him and strike up a conversation and develop a relationship and strengthen the Church.

Many of these are little things. Or things that don’t seem very Churchy. But if the Church is a home, a family, the Body of Christ, then it’s going to be made up of all these little parts. And the little things work together to make a beautiful community. Don’t think you don’t matter. You matter. Now quit sitting around and make your church a better place!

 

Help me out here, folks. I’m doing the best I can with a mind that’s very oriented to certain kinds of service and not at all to others. What would you add to this list? Share your outside-the-box ideas in the comments!

  1. Obviously, get permission from the powers that be for any of this. []
  2. I think the next edition of the Code of Canon Law should stipulate that all parishes in first world countries must have websites with Mass times–Sunday and daily–prominently featured on the homepage. I wonder if there is anybody in the world who spends as much time frustrated on parish websites as I do. []
  3. Not lasagna. Every youth group in the country eats pizza or baked pasta whenever there’s dinner. Give them something different! []
  4. What even is that? []
  5. Not me. I mean, go ahead and foot that bill, but I’m free, so the footing of the bill won’t be terribly impressive. []
  6. Is that even a thing? []
  7. But not in the sanctuary. That’s for prayer. []
  8. There’s a man at St. Matthew’s Cathedral in South Bend who does this every Sunday and the kids are absolutely thrilled about going to Mass. Sure, it’s for the toy, but anything that makes their reaction to Mass positive without hurting their ability to pray works for me! []
  9. Is that last one allowed? Maybe the anonymity makes that a faux pas. []
  10. There are towns where every Mass is between 8:15 and 8:30 am–at 4 different parishes! Someone take a 7am, someone a noon, and someone an evening and suddenly everyone can make it to Mass if they want. []

The Church Needs You: A Pentecost Appeal

A while back, I had the opportunity to be in Oklahoma City for their annual half marathon and friends, I was SORE afterwards! Oh, I didn’t run it.1 But I cheered like it was my job. For five hours I shouted and danced and pumped my fists. I played “The Eye of the Tiger” for a few hours, then switched to “I Would Walk 500 Miles” when the walkers got there. My friends’ house was around the 12-mile mark, so when people passed us they were in need of a little encouragement. And I gave it to them. (My friend Anamaria wrote about it here.)

You can do it! You’re just like Rocky only better looking!

You are amazing! Your mom is proud of you and your wife is proud of you and your friends are proud of you and JESUS is proud of you!2

Do you realize you’ve done more this morning than I’ll do all month? You are awesome! And you’re almost there! You’re going to get to take a nap and NOBODY can you say you don’t deserve it because YOU RAN A HALF MARATHON TODAY!

You only have a mile and a half left and then you get to have a brownie. You know what? You can have all the brownies you want for the rest of your life because you are RUNNING A HALF MARATHON!

This was before anyone started running by, but you can tell I'm ready for an epic day of cheering.
This was before anyone started running by, but you can tell I’m ready for an epic day of cheering.

It was amazing the number of people who were walking and started running again (maybe to get away from the glitter and rainbows I was spewing at them) and the number who actually turned to thank me for the encouragement. I met a runner the next day and asked her if she remembered me.

“Did you have a baby with you?” she asked.

“That was me!”

“Yeah! You said, ‘He can’t run but you can. Do it for the baby!’ That was awesome.”

Seriously, guys, I am amazing at this. If you could be a professional half-marathon cheerer, I would do it. And I had a blast! I’ve already put next year’s OKC half in my calendar.

The people I was with, God bless them, were more impressed than put off by my intensity. They seemed to think it was a great favor I was doing the runners. And it got me thinking.

I’m good at yelling. I’m good at encouragement. I’m good at making a fool of myself. But I can’t run. I could never run a half marathon. I would quite literally die.3 And a half marathon can’t happen without runners.

That’s obvious. But it can’t happen without police, either. Or paper-pushers or fundraisers or web gurus or volunteers to hand out that sticky sludge they keep shoving down your throat. It can’t happen without organizers or city councils or urban planners or people sitting in front of their houses handing out Twinkies.4 The OKC marathon particularly can’t happen without people who still remember the terror of the bombing and others who want to honor their loss. A marathon is not just about runners.

The Church is the same way. I’ve got gifts that are particularly Churchy. I like attention and enthusiasm and telling people what to do, so I make a pretty good speaker. I also really like reading and being a know-it-all, so I manage some content in my talks. And because my natural gifts are showy, people think I’m a big deal and they’re not. Like the Church needs me but you’re just along for the ride.

That's the most important man in the world telling you that YOU are necessary. So deal with it.
That’s the most important man in the world telling you that YOU are necessary. So deal with it.

Lie. Big, fat, ugly lie. It’s a lie if you believe you’re not good enough and it’s a lie if you’re just letting yourself off the hook. I hate to break it to you, friends, but this Church needs you. As much as it needs anyone (and obviously, God can do whatever he wants without any pathetic little sinners), it needs you.

Maybe you don’t have any Churchy talents. Maybe you make children cry when you try to sing and you can’t read in front of a group without quivering in terror. Maybe you don’t feel comfortable talking about your faith, so you feel like leading a Bible study is out. When you take out all the artsy, feely stuff, what do you really have to offer?

You.

You have yourself to offer. Not just because Jesus desires that you give him your whole self but because the Church is the poorer because you haven’t stepped up yet. See, there’s only so many hobos a Church can sustain. We just don’t need that many missionaries. We need more than we have, that’s for sure. And we’re all missionaries in our own ways. But you don’t have to be a streetcorner preacher to serve the Church. If everybody did that, who’d plan the potlucks and update the databases?

I don’t mean that flippantly. We need that. We need good administrators and financial minds in our parishes–desperately. A loving parish secretary will impact more souls than I will. Maybe you’re only good at sports: coach a CYO team. Maybe you’re just a worker bee: ask the DRE what help she needs. Maybe you’re good at crafts: make Saint dolls and give them to children in your parish.

See, God gave you particular gifts. And while your ability to keep paperwork organized might seem rather mundane to you, I can bet your youth minister would kill for that skill. The talents you have–even things like being friendly or trimming bushes–have been given to you for the good of the Church. If you can get to a Called and Gifted Seminar,5 all the better. But until then, just sit down and ask: what am I good at? What do I love doing? And how can that serve the Church? Because I guarantee it can.

missing from ChurchIf you’ve been baptized (and especially if you’ve been confirmed), the Holy Spirit has moved in you–is moving in you. Not only did God create you with natural gifts, but grace has built on nature and you’re now a storehouse of divine power. It may not manifest itself in obvious ways, but God has been preparing you all your life to be a great gift to the Church and the world if only you’ll let him use you. And since it’s still Pentecost on the West Coast, I’m going to challenge you during this Octave of Pentecost6 to sit with the Lord and ask him how he wants to use you. I’ll even give you a bunch of ideas later this week–I know how you people love lists. Then spend Ordinary Time getting used to giving your time and talents in service to the Church as well as your treasure. We need you. We can’t all be epic half-marathon-cheerers, but if we don’t embrace the role God’s given us, the whole thing starts to fall apart.7

  1. Those who know me are far less confused now. []
  2. Because it’s Oklahoma so you can mention Jesus. []
  3. And no, by “literally” I do not mean “figuratively.” I mean that I would die of an asthma attack or be rolled off the course on a stretcher. []
  4. Okay, maybe the Twinkies are unnecessary. And gross, particularly while running. But I bet some of those runners would notice if the Twinkie people disappeared. []
  5. Disclaimer: I’ve never actually been, but I’ve heard great things and read some of the materials and it all looks good to me. []
  6. Well, it used to be an octave. []
  7. I mean, not the Church. “The gates of hell will not prevail against it” and all that. But our little churches can run into some serious trouble. []