Called Deeper Together - Transformed to Live the Word

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I; send me!’ (Isaiah 6:8)

I have a letter from one of my former students tucked away in a keepsake box, one of a dozen affirmation notes that I received on the final night of our mission trip to Nicaragua. In the letter, he reflects on the pain God must feel when looking upon all that God has created; seeing a world filled with poverty, hunger, and violence. He writes, “Surely God must be heartbroken and desperate to intervene. What shall I do? Whom shall I send? Who will go for us? Your “yes” is the answer to God’s prayer! Here I am, Lord; send me!”

There are many communities whom I credit with nurturing the seeds of service in my life – the year I spent living at Amate House, mission trips with Fabretto Children’s Foundation, the work I do with advocacy groups at Catholic Relief Services and my parish’s outreach to our unhoused neighbors in Chicago.

However, no one community has been the source of transformation more so than the very communities of people we serve. As Henri Nouwen writes in Gracias!: A Latin American Journal, “The poor themselves are the best evangelizers.” By allowing ourselves to receive the gifts they have to offer us, in sharing our common humanity, and recognizing our mutual dependence on one another, we encounter God.

If I’m being honest, I don’t always want to say “yes”. I’m not always eager to respond, “send me!” There are times when my mind races to find excuses. I’m too busy. Isn’t there someone else more qualified? I already work for the church, and now you’re asking me to do more?

A couple of weeks ago our pastor stopped me after daily mass, “Do you have time to help with hospitality this afternoon? It will only take an hour.” It was a Monday, a work day for me, and I was expecting a delivery guy to drop off an important package that afternoon.

“I want you to meet some of our new neighbors,” he said. “They’ll be in the courtyard at 3:30. Can you be there to greet them?”

The grassy courtyard space next to our church serves as a gathering place for newly arrived immigrant families, a respite spot for those who are temporarily taking shelter in local police stations around the city. Many of them have traveled thousands of miles to Chicago from their countries of origin in South and Central America.

My Spanish is halting at best, although translation apps have helped tremendously. As luck would have it, the delivery arrived early, and I had no other meetings on my calendar.

I arrived at the courtyard, curious yet cautious. Our interactions were awkward at first, but I was reminded that hospitality is really quite simple. All it takes is a smile and a welcoming presence. We offered cookies and water bottles, and perhaps most important, helped them get onto the WiFi so they could connect with family members back home. Most of the people I met that day were moms with school-aged children.

Before too long, one of the other volunteers arrived carrying bottles of bubbles, a soccer ball, and a stack of coloring books. It didn’t take long for the kids to immerse themselves in activities, and I found myself standing on holy ground. In my heart, I was transported to another grassy field high in the mountains of Nicaragua. I thought to myself, “I’ve been here before. I know how to do this!”

I kicked off my worn-out black sandals, and immediately one of my new 5-year-old friends slipped off her hot pink crocs and placed them next to mine. We ran barefoot in circles for nearly an hour, blowing bubbles and chasing soccer balls. I can still hear their fits of giggles floating in the air and their cries of “muchas! muchas! muchas!” as they leapt up popping bubbles.

Laughter is a universal language, and joy is a sure sign of God’s presence! Jesus, who is the Word made flesh, dwells among us in the many ways a community gathers. Whether that is around the dining room table, the Eucharistic table, or the soup kitchen. How quickly God’s presence is revealed when we love one another – by welcoming the stranger, sharing a meal, listening to stories, and holding space for joy in the midst of hardship.

There is a long journey ahead for our immigrant neighbors, but what a gift to have a space for kids to be kids, even for a few short hours. Henri Nouwen reminds us that in these moments God himself is the gift. “That is what Jesus tells us when he says: “Insofar as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me.” (Matt 25:40). Our care for people thus becomes the way to meet the Lord. The more we give, help, support, guide, counsel, and visit, the more we receive, not just similar gifts, but the Lord himself. To go to the poor is to go to the Lord.”

Here am I, send me!

Going Deeper

• Consider: When have you encountered God’s presence in community? How do the communities to whom you belong encourage or invite you to see God more readily?
• Reflect on the poem “Incarnation” by Michael Moynahan, S.J.
• Ponder St Ignatius’ reflection on the Two Standards.
• Use this reflection from Lisa Kelly to reflect on what it means to be men & women for others.
• All Souls Day is just around the corner. Join us in honoring those who have passed by attending our virtual workshop on accompanying those who are grieving. If you can’t attend live, a recording will be sent.

Photo by Sebastian Pichler on Unsplash.

Beth Knobbe

Beth Knobbe is an author, speaker, and ministry professional based in Chicago, Illinois. She earned a Master of Divinity Degree from Catholic Theological Union and serves as a Senior Trainer with Catholic Relief Services, engaging Catholics in living their faith in solidarity with the poor around the world. Beth is an avid traveler and is passionate about her vocation to the single life. Beth is the author of Party of One: Living Single with Faith, Purpose, and Passion (2011) and Finding My Voice: A Young Woman’s Perspective (2009). Her personal blog can be found at www.bethknobbe.com.