“For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Mark 10:45). This passage for me sums up our faith better than any other one. Not even the Golden Rule does it like this one! The Golden Rule is nice, we should treat others as you would want to be treated, but honestly, Mark 10:45 is it! Our Lord tells us in clear and plain language: The whole reason I’m here, the whole point of this thing called salvation, is to serve. Period. End of sentence.
If there is one question I am asked more than any other in my time here with the Mount Carmel community, it is How can I get my son or daughter to go to Mass? I say, “Make them serve.” Yes, force them, and no, babysitting your little brother doesn’t count (actually, it depends on the little brother). Yes, serve. Through experiential service to others they will get addicted to the feeling of love and they’ll want that feeling all the time and in order to continue spiritually feeding others, they too will have to be fed and they will run to Mass. That’s been my ministerial experience, not heady, or inspirational, maybe not even that vaguely spiritual, but that’s it.
This week we celebrated the feast day of Carmelite saint and Church doctor St. Teresa of Avila. I love her writings and try to follow her path through “the little heaven of the soul” (The Way to Perfection, 18), but I am the least mystical, supernaturally inclined person in our Church. When people asked how I turned to a life of working in ministry, I tell them about the time my dad made all of us help rebuild homes in Homestead after Hurricane Andrew decimated southern Florida, though our own home was still missing a roof. “We got four walls,” he’d say. “They don’t have anything.” Through this very real, tangible, physical work I learned that this is Jesus. Not an idea or a guy in a picture. This is Jesus. It didn’t happen in spiritual ecstasy, it happened while handing out sandwiches on a cold February night.
A long-time sports fan (let’s go Mets!) I admit I’ve never been much of an athlete. If I appreciate basketball and enthusiastically cheer my teams but don’t actually train for or play basketball, I can’t call myself a basketball player no matter how much I support it. Likewise, we’re not fully Christian when we are not serving one another. Frankly, what’s the point of being Catholic if you don’t want to serve. Put simply, Catholicism is a contact sport. Now, I understand not everyone’s gift is speaking with the elderly homebound or cooking soup, but there are endless opportunities. I know, because you’ve given them to me!
I have laughed with homeless men and cried with the children of hedge fund managers. I have seen the sun rise on the lower ninth ward and seen it set on the New Mexican pueblos. I’ve had my hands kissed by grandmothers when I arrived with the toys you all bought them for Christmas. I’ve heard old stories from old veterans in wheelchairs and taught skits to children in Peru. I gave blood for RJ and bled in food pantries. All this I’ve done because you have sent me. My beloved parish family, thank you! You have given me a wonderful life, and it is my hope and prayer that you get involved to experience these things as well either by joining us on a service trip or attending a Service on Saturday event. And, to you all serving, to each of you, thank you!
To the parents serving their children, God loves you! To all the teachers, God sees you! To the caretakers and food servers, hotel cleaning women and mechanics, God cares for you! To the day laborer who harvests our vegetables and the volunteer who hears the child begging for water, God is next to you. To all who forgive the person who cut them off, who stay quiet rather than saying something rude, God thanks you! As ever, I hope this finds you, more than ever, better than ever, serving one another. Have a wonderful week.
I’ll be seeing you,
Elliot Guerra