A Reply to Love

from the foot of the cross

 

The other day, I was praying with the Gospel of Luke 1:5-24, which tells the story of Gabriel’s annunciation to Zechariah.  While performing his priestly service in the Temple, the Angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah and announced that his wife, Elizabeth, who was advanced in years, would bear a son.  This son would be a prophet charged with preparing the people for the coming of the Messiah.  The Gospel tells us that Zechariah did not receive this good news with gratitude but rather with doubt, even arguing with the Angel that it was not possible.

Wednesdays are crazy days at the Urban Mission Food Pantry. As many as 500 people come through for pantry items and produce and, since COVID started, it’s been a drive-through (or walk-through for those without vehicles). The National Guard have been assisting with this project for months, as need has increased so much, and they are extremely efficient as well as polite, often checking someone in and bringing food to the car with less than a minute of turn-around time. Even with this speedy service, the line of cars often stretches into the street and sometimes starts wrapping around the block … you can imagine there can be some short tempers at times.

Earlier in the semester, I couldn’t seem to get my Friday schedule straightened out. Two weeks in a row, I was late meeting the college students I minister with at the Urban Mission’s pantry and thrift store – and the second week I had promised the student leader up and down that I’d be there, waiting for them (clearly contrary to Jesus’ injunction to let one’s “yes” be “yes”). But the time for ministry on Fridays is an hour earlier than the other “student days,” so at 1:07 PM I found myself hurriedly leaving my long-suffering student leader a voicemail and grabbing the car keys as I remembered I was to have met the group at 1:00, not 2:00.

One morning late in the summer, 14 of my sisters and I began our day as we normally do, with a Holy Hour before the Blessed Sacrament and Mass.  After a quick breakfast, we packed our cars for a 3-hour drive to a retreat house, where we would spend the next several days together.  By 10 a.m., we were on the road and excitedly chatting about our hopes and dreams for our time away.  An hour into our trip, as we passed through downtown Pittsburgh on the highway, we came upon slowed traffic.

We are entering into the month of November, the month that the Catholic Church sets aside in a particular way to pray for the poor souls in purgatory. Many Christians, including Catholics, do not understand or believe in purgatory. So, what exactly is purgatory and why do we pray for the dead?

“This is not ideal timing,” I thought to myself as I swiftly moved furniture out of one of the bedrooms in our house.  My sisters, a few volunteers, and I were moving the furniture out of eight rooms in our house, so that the carpet could be removed and replaced with new flooring.

After months of being quarantined at the motherhouse through the spring and summer, we have ventured into familiar territory but in an unfamiliar way. Familiar territory, because we are a presence in downtown Steubenville again (read more here). Unfamiliar, because we don’t have our central location anymore where people knew where to find the sisters and where people felt welcomed and at home (read more about Samaritan House closing).

Truth be told, I can be a little bit of a taskmaster – with others and myself. One of the things that the Lord seems to be inviting me into these days is learning to embrace my limitations, needs, and overall poverty. I recognized one day working at the thrift store that I was resisting showing my need for a lunch break, so I made a firm purpose of amendment to be kinder to myself the following day, when I was to work in the food distribution at the Urban Mission.