October 2007
When I was ordained I was instructed, in the words of a centuries-old text, to ‘understand what you do, and imitate what you handle.’ In other words, be as holy as the things you touch. These words could as well be used at Baptism, for whether you and I are cradling the Eucharist in our palms, grasping the hands of those who suffer or grieve, or caressing the faces of our dearest ones, we are all cradling, grasping and caressing that Christ who took our flesh as his own. This perception lies at the heart of Baptismal ministry, and we are simply invited to become worthy of such a holy task.
Of course, that process of becoming worthy is lifelong, and seldom painless. We can appear confident, serene and secure to others, and all the while be stumbling over our own inadequacies and shortcomings, discovering insecurities and limitations we had not suspected, occasionally discouraged by how little we have travelled along the way of our own conversion. The holier the task, the less worthy we seem to be, yet what option do we have but to continue, and how else – where else – are we to be saved?
I think it is for good reasons that our prayer and liturgy constantly draw on the psalms, where we realize that weakness and failure have always been written into the story of belief, and that faith is no protection against betrayal, aggression, and treachery. There the psalmist reminds us that God is our refuge and strength, our castle and our fortress, that God’s love enfolds us, and God’s mercy and faithfulness endure from age to age. Knowing that God’s throne is established, and God’s rule is everlasting, somehow manages to put into perspective our victories and our defeats, our talents and defects, all the ways in which we suffer unjustly and are treated unfairly. And reminds us, perhaps, that redeeming the world is, after all, God’s task, and we are only playing a bit part.
Someone reflected recently that the more you are involved in ministry, the more the lines become blurred between who you are privately and what you do publicly: ministry becomes not so much something performed in a designated place, for a limited amount of time and to an identifiable population, as a whole way of being and relating. In time, if not immediately, ministry effects deep changes within us all. And so when you and I believe that, at the deepest level of our being, we are ministers of Christ and ministering to Christ, in our caring and healing, as in our suffering and enduring, and that our world and its people, every living creature and our environment, have been entrusted to our care, then we stand a chance of understanding what it is we do, and of imitating what we handle: God’s holy creation, God’s holy people.
TPG+
