The Cost of Love

Here are some excerpts from my paper for my class. I was reflecting on the similarities between mass, which is an integral part of my own spiritual life, and service. This post is dedicated to a beautiful saint in heaven who I was privileged to come to know this summer.

Christian tradition tells us that sacraments are efficacious signs of grace. Fr. Himes defines grace saying, “Grace is the perfect self-gift of God, the divine agape outside the Trinity” (Himes 103). Fr. Himes goes on to say, “Any thing, any person, place, event, any sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch that causes you to recognize the presence of grace, to accept it and celebrate it, is a sacrament, effecting what it signifies” (Himes 108). During my times of service, I began to see and feel the presence of God sometimes even more clearly than in the chapel, which had before been one of the only places I could feel God. My moments of self-gift became nourishing like the Eucharist, but in a different way and without diminishing the importance of the Eucharist in my life. I felt Jesus when I scrubbed dirty toilets, clipped the toenails of a resident, and went to visit sick residents in the hospital during our off time. I felt the love of Christ in the smiles and appreciation for my time and caring attitude. I looked Jesus in the eyes when I listened to their stories of heartache and pain. I worked alongside Christ in the kitchen and hallways. The selfless love that is God was everywhere around me, in so many different forms and sadly often tainted by the imperfection of this world, but just as real as in mass.

I have heard it said that being at the consecration during mass is like being at the foot of the cross. We share in the mystery of suffering during that act. Suffering is something that we naturally shy away from, yet Christian tradition speaks of it as something good, and something that contains hope. This seems paradoxical, but my time in service to those who suffer has proven this true to me. In service we suffer with those around us, just as in mass we suffer with Christ on the cross. Service is a call to compassion, a call to “share in the other’s vulnerability, enter with him or her into the experience of weakness and powerlessness, become part of uncertainty, and give up control and self-determination” (Nouwen, McNeill, and Morrison 12).  For me, being someone who likes to be in control, this seems to contrary to human nature. Everything about becoming vulnerable and facing death and suffering makes me want to run away. But the mass and the celebration of the resurrection shows us this suffering contains profound beauty.

One beautiful demonstration of this comes from a story during my time of service. The very first day on the job, Maddy and I went to a “religious discussion” activity. The discussion was on “the world.” One wonderful resident who has since passed shared something I will never forget. In response to the question of if she saw God in nature, she spoke of how the sufferings she faced as she grew older forced her to slow down enough to take notice of the small beautiful things in life and see God more clearly in the world around her. I was so moved this discovery of goodness in her situation despite her afflictions, which were truly tremendous. Service reveals the paradox of suffering which is a great mystery that the mass celebrates.

At the end of mass, there is a sending forth of all those present, because the mass is supposed to encourage us to help us do God’s work. That work is work of service. Service in itself not only exemplifies the message of the mass and the One who mass celebrates, but it is what the mass gives us the strength to go out and do. Service and the mass are about falling in love, and sharing that love with a community in need. My time at the home was so filled with the presence of God, and that presence led to a hope that no one could take away from the residents or me. These beautiful residents and staff taught me to love in a new, more life-giving way. Our interactions were efficacious and made real to me the love on the cross, the love in the Eucharist, the love of a radical, self-giving God.

The greatest lesson I learned from falling in love with the residents at the home was that everything rests on love, and love alone is our only hope. To me, this is the message of the mass because the mass celebrates the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, and nothing exemplifies pure, selfless, agapic love more than that. Christ’s death on the cross was the single act that most perfectly depicted what God is all about. That act of wholly selfless love is what we aim to take part in during service to others. I learned during my summer as Fr. Nouwen put it, “the basic principle that no one can help anyone without becoming involved, without entering wholly into the painful situation, without taking the risk of becoming hurt, wounded, or even destroyed in the process” (Nouwen 153). We need to look no further than the love we celebrate in mass to know this is true. God could not help us without becoming involved, and it ended up costing God an incredible amount. My time trying to “help” the poor and lonely at the home has confirmed this principle. As I write this I have just been informed of the death of a resident at the home. Tears stream down my face as I think of the beautiful lady I had come to know and love in my process of service to her. I think of the way she shared her faith in kindness to everyone around her, in love for the aids, the nurses, myself, and especially her devoted family. My attempts to bring happiness to a group of people faced with suffering have cost me as well. But the lesson is the same one that the mass celebrates: love is not love without cost, and it is always worth the cost.