(Left to Right: Joe, Vanessa, Ben, and Tom)Jean Vanier speaks about the calling(s) of Jesus:
The first call is frequently to follow Jesus or to prepare ourselves to do wonderful and noble things for the Kingdom. We are appreciated and admired by family, by friends or by the community. The second call comes later, when we accept that we cannot do big or heroic things for Jesus; it is a time of renunciation, humiliation, and humility. We feel useless; we are no longer appreciated. If the first passage is made at high noon, under a shining sun, the second call is often made at night. We feel alone and are afraid because we are in a world of confusion. We begin to doubt the commitment we made in the light of day. We seem deeply broken in some way. But this suffering is not useless. Through the renunciation we can reach a new wisdom of love. It is only through the pain of the cross that we discover what the resurrection means (139-140).
Our lives are journeys... we have the choice to make them adventures. The first time I heard the call of Jesus in my life- in the quiet of that furious night, I knew that everything from then on will be different. The Spirit of God changed the course of my life in a manner I could not have imagined. Before I was aware of the Truth I feared so heavily the lie of forsakenness; total and utter aloneness that felt devoid of hope. The cross of our Savior has been the foundation of my life ever since. It is the vessel of our communion. This vessel acts as a fountain of our tears- where we can bellow out anguish and anxiety. But it is also a fountain of love- where the source of our heart's salvation rests; where the heart of man can become a spring of water welling up to eternal life (John 4:14).
Vanier's words resonate so profoundly true to me it seems like ridiculousness. My initial arrival at L'Arche felt like a wonderful and noble commitment to God, but this pride dissipates quickly. Sacrifice in a mutual community of care like L'Arche is different than other forms. With impoverished communities there are many visible and vital needs such as the fight for justice, food and monetary needs. Tending to these sources of poverty is a bit more practical and over time we realize that our donations of time, effort, tithe, courage, kindness, and good heartedness cannot completely redeem the difficult circumstances that are before those we care for. We learn to transition from being the hands of man's power to becoming the hands and feet of God's love. Our presence with the poor reveals our own poverty and together we unpeel into the Spirit of Jesus.
In the end, the most important thing is not to do things for people who are poor and in distress, but to enter into relationship with them, to be with them and help them find confidence in themselves and discover their own gifts... The promise of Jesus is to help us discover that the poor are a source of life and NOT just objects of our charity. If we are close to them we will be renewed in love and in faith (142)
Befriending the core members of our community who struggle with disabilities is not my token of charity. It is indeed a relationship that requires care, but at the same time fosters inner-growth, healing, and freedom. I am the overwhelming beneficiary of these relationships in both the light and heavy moments. Jesus is asking me to love most the thing I hate about them: they reveal how selfish I truly am...which is such a bummer at times. It shows me how reluctant I am in all my eloquent words, good intentions, and tarnished wisdom to pick up my cross at an hour not of my choosing.
In the day-to-day grind I can feel overwhelmed by the most innocent outbursts and mistakes. There is a living tension that coincides with scheduling conflicts, my mood, the chores of the day, the dull or over-indulgent interactions with others, and so on and so forth. But the ability to catch this reluctance for you and for me is where that living water is welling up. Part of the adventure is about sacrificing when we are not 'on-schedule', at Sunday-service, in-front of others, or holding the mic. Our crosses become the foundation of our faiths during the hours not of our choosing.
Tom can barely speak. Learning how to communicate with him has been fun and frustrating. He uses hand-signs for bowling, family weekend, eating, and says code words like "happy" which is him asking for dunkin' donuts coffee. He is very much a creature of habit and to stray from the schedule can set his temper off. For Tom to express himself and to receive affirmation and affection throughout the day he will sometimes ask me 5-10 times whether it is okay to sip his coffee or take a bite of his toast all in one sitting. Over the long haul this can be extremely frustrating- think about how many meals and snacks there are in a day. The frustration can lead to a resentment that screams "Tom only wants me for what I can give- he just wants to eat, drink, walk, and do it all on his own watch- Tom is selfish and annoying." This is where I pray for God to give me eyes to see and ears to hear- where I beg for his forgiveness in my judgment of Tom. The truth is that Tom can be such an amazing individual. He makes me laugh, he makes me smile, he makes me feel loved, and he inspires me. The line between how we receive others is very thin and ultimately, if we want to be loving, we have to own it. We have the choice to be content, at home, in the Father's house, closest to the Father's heart- in relationship with Tommy...or we can set off for distant country, for abandonment, for self-satisfaction- in relationship with ourselves.
Part of my woundedness makes me very sensitive to judgment and embarrassment. In the past I try to anticipate such situations and bolt the second I fear such a moment in public. I am not Catholic, but this Sunday morning I took Tom to Mass because he is. Mid-way through the service a tithing basket was presented to us and another assistant had accidentally kept Tom's cash. Tom always donates $1 and when the basket came around he did not have it on him. He slowly raised his voice saying 'No' and had the meanest little face going. Eventually he stood up, yelling 'no!' so excessively that we had to get up from the front of the pews and walk out of the service. I assumed that it would not be a big deal... besides, it was "just $1". In my pocket I had $16 worth of cash, and one $1 bill. I could have easily taken it out of my pocket and given it to Tom to donate (and even be reimbursed for it later in the day), but in my selfishness I opted not to give 'my' dollar to Tom. I felt it would only enable his outbursts in the future if I gave in during his episodes. Well Tom won this battle. We left service early because he could not let it go, but how funny is it that I complain about such a thing when I could not allow my one, stinking, dollar to be let go either.
I was angry at Tom for embarrassing me, for having to slowly walk down the isles which felt like walking through a storm of judgment, anger, and failure from the congregation. Then Tom immediately wanted "happy" which on Sundays meant we go to a place called Heavenly Donuts for coffee and donuts. I was upset and was reluctant to be "happy" because I felt as if he was a selfish and immature child that should have known better. He should know not to go off at the risk of upsetting me in the process. This was the hour not of my choosing and it called for me to fall deeper into the heart of Jesus and forgive Tom. Tom will never say that he was sorry and Tom will never say he regretted making a scene or embarrassing me. Tom will only expect for there to be a dollar to donate next Sunday and coffee waiting for him afterward. In the reality of Tom's disability, Tom requires me to rise unto a new height of forgiveness and love. One that clears the chalkboard completely.
Isaiah 1:18: Come now let us reason together- says the Lord. Though your sins are like scarlet they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool
When we returned home I whispered into Tom's ears that I was sorry for not donating into the charity basket and that next week we will not have the same problem. He performed his signature half-smile with a thumbs-up and walked off to finish his cofee and donuts in peace. I laughed over what a silly mix up this morning had been and must thank God for the discomfort the more I look back on it. Today I learned new depths to my depravity; a depravity that runs so deep that in my wealth I feel as if I cannot afford to give a dollar.
There is a great scene in the film "Into the Wild" where the main character, Christopher McCandless, has been running furiously into the wild- hoping to go deeper and deeper into isolation. Oddly enough, the spite he holds specially reserved for his family is at the core of his passion for both nature and meaningful human relationships. Before he leaves, an elder man that he befriends along the way, Ron Franz, tells Christopher: "When you forgive, you love. And when you love, God's light shines through you."
We discover what the resurrection means through the Cross. The pain of my cross came through the humiliation of walking down those isles early. But through forgiveness, me and Tom were both given new love, new light, and new life. Indeed I am the beneficiary of living in relationship with Tommy.
