The Renovating Reverend

Written in the Fall of 2012

The house renovations are once again on hold as we tend to family and friends. This year has been a rough one for us. In the midst of loss and illness, I’ve been struck by the great value of some old traditions—one of these being the custom of providing meals as an expression of material and emotional support for someone going through a difficult time. In a lot of communities, and among a lot of younger folks, this custom seems to be falling out of fashion. I believe I understand why.

After a number of people offered to bring us food, Steve and I resisted. It was very nice that the help was offered, and we deeply appreciated the offers, but we didn’t think we were especially in need. In fact, we felt a bit sheepish about even thinking of accepting. After all, long gone are the days when preparing a meal required a lot of effort and time. It can seem silly to give someone a prepared meal or a homemade casserole when they can so easily buy a roasted chicken, fresh baked rolls, and mashed potatoes at the grocery store–or just pick up a frozen meal that can be dumped into a frying pan. My husband and I are pretty decent cooks, and we live within walking distance of a grocery store. It doesn’t seem all that difficult to throw together a somewhat nutritious meal.

You can tell that potentially being on the receiving end of the custom for the first time in our adult lives, we were, oddly enough, focusing on the very practical aspects and forgetting the more important, intangible ones (or feeling a bit overwhelmed by them). I think we caught a clue after the minister at our church pointed out for the second or third time that people were concerned and wanted to share their concern in some tangible way. Steve and I began to see that it wasn’t just about us. People care about others, and they want a chance to express their caring. It’s really that simple, and that profound.

I can now see that the custom of preparing meals, and accepting them, is about living in what I’ve referred to as the circle of profound participation. In a previous blog entry, from December of 2011, I noted that:

“The celebration of Christmas is the annual reminder for us to participate ever more fully in what Jesus modeled, a life that is fully human, with all of our seeming limitations, neediness, and shortcomings, and a life that is fully connected with God, with all of God’s provision for all that we need every day; provision in such an abundance that we are able and motivated to pass along the necessities, kindness, and love in our daily lives. In so doing we will continue to stay in the circle of profound participation. We will continue to meet, experience, and walk in the footsteps of Jesus.”

It’s generally painful to focus on our human limitations, neediness, and shortcomings, so any thought of accepting help is easily dropped, and the focus completely shifts to giving. This is supported by our culture, which often frames heroic giving as the height of goodness and love. But loving, and all of the good things that come along with it, really happens between people, whether in a simple act of kindness or in an intimate, life-long relationship. It’s a two-way street, some would say.

As I look over the past year and a half, I’ve repeatedly seen kindness and love bless the giver as well as the recipient, in a spiritual, emotional, or tangible way. I’m sure you’ve seen this in your life, too. One person who brought us dinner told me that it was especially meaningful to cook for us. In the past, this person had not been in a position to help a family member get through a long stretch of illness, and others had jumped in to assist. Now, she was in a position to help, and was glad to. People give, receive, give back, experience healing or growth, are inspired, and inspire—love moves between us, then beyond us. If, in our pride or anxiety, we are only willing to see ourselves giving to others, we won’t fully experience love. It’s only by being open and receptive to love that we live in love, and keep love flowing.