I have a parishioner who has an absolute passion for a piece of ministry that she does extraordinarily well. It has to do with reaching out to some women who are in trouble with the law and have addiction issues. Basically they are in a program that is their last chance. If they fail this, their prospects are grim—they may well lose their children, and will be headed to jail.
That having been said, she spends an prodigious amount of energy in reaching out to these women through a program of "spirituality" that she leads an hour a week, twice, to two different audiences. It is fascinating to watch her perform. She has drive, energy, verve, enthusiasm, and inspires these women to consider different alternatives in a structured studied way, about how to transform their lives, dare I say, "work out their own salvation", taking into account God and God through Christ.
All of this is in a system in which these women are at this facility for only a short period of weeks, maybe months at the most.
Impressed? I surely am. Nevertheless, she was out of pocket this week, and I was asked to bring the program. I shuddered at that. I can’t hold a candle to what she does. So, I brought a program trying to answer questions that surface for these women whereof we have tried to keep track. Fool that I am, I attempted to answer questions like,
- "If I have decided to receive the sacrament of holy baptism, what does God expect of me now?" (Or substitute joining the church, or renewing the vows I made at baptism earlier in my life, etc.)
- How do I forgive someone who is dead? For that matter, how do I forgive?
- There was a fascinating conversation with a Muslim girl who was thinking about converting to Christianity, and had tons and tons of questions. It was absolutely fascinating.
I enjoyed my time there, but I am clear I am no substitute for the passion of this parishioner and her extraordinarily important helpers.
