Of the many beautiful places I have traveled, my favorite city is Assisi.
In college, I won a paid pilgrimage for an essay I wrote on what it meant to attend a Franciscan university. It was there that the stories of the saints, in particular St. Francis, became real to me in a whole new way. The gift of that week in Assisi blessed me spiritually in more ways than I can count.
While visiting La Verna, where Francis received the stigmata (the wounds of Jesus in his passion), the religious sister offered a reflection in the chapel where she referenced his final words before Sister Death called him home: I did what was mine to do.
It struck me back then, and I wrote it down in my journal. In the current climate of our world, Church, nation, and politics, I find myself asking Jesus this question a lot these days: What is mine to do?
Opening Our Eyes
Several months ago, my husband and I went out for lunch after Sunday Mass. As we got settled in our booth, I noticed all the joyful noises of seeing young families and groups of people filling up all the tables and booths.
As I looked around, my gaze fell on an elderly man who was sitting alone at a table set for four people. He seemed content enough drinking a cup of coffee and eating his meatloaf. And yet, I found myself wondering why he was all by himself on this warm summer day.
Was he a widower? Did this man not have any family? Why was he eating all by himself? Something about the scene kept tugging at my heart.
I leaned across the table to ask my husband if we could pay for this man’s lunch. Of course, he said yes. After our meals arrived, we asked our server to please hand us that man’s bill and not to tell him who paid for it. We happily enjoyed our chicken sandwiches and beef burritos and even splurged for our favorite dessert, Snicker’s pie.
As we paid for both bills, the server who took care of that elderly man came up to thank us for the kind act.
“Thank you for paying for Larry’s meal. He recently celebrated his 88th birthday. His wife died many years ago. His family does not live locally anymore. I went to high school with one of his daughters.”
I put my hand over my heart and smiled as I got into the car, thinking, Thank you for helping me see that man. We said a prayer for Larry in the car as we drove back home. Buying Larry lunch was mine to do at that moment.
What is mine to do may look different than what is yours. Each of us will have different opportunities to respond, to pay attention to the people and situations in daily life. It can feel crippling sometimes to look at the vastness of the immense suffering in the world today—Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, the abuse of immigrants, greed, and consumerism. And yet all you and I can do is what God has placed in our midst to do.
What is mine to do? What is yours to do, friend? Whatever God has placed upon our path at any given moment.
When you and I do what is ours to do, we help transform the world in small ways. Even if we never see the fruits, it never goes unnoticed by the heart of God.
A Prayer for Paying Attention
Jesus: Sometimes in my life, I can get so focused on and consumed by the narrow vision of my life, problems, and concerns.
Would you help open my eyes and inspire me to pay better attention?
Teach me how to learn from your loving example that always made time for other people.
Show me how I can bring about your love and mercy in my daily life.
Amen.
