There was once a factory that employed thousands of people. Its production line was a miracle of modern engineering, turning out thousands of machines every day. The factory had a high accident rate. The complicated machinery of the production line took little account of human error, forgetfulness or ignorance. Day after day men came out of the factory with crushed fingers, cuts and bruises. Sometimes a man would lose an arm or a leg. Occasionally, someone was electrocuted or crushed to death. Enlightened people began to see that something needed to be done.
First on the scene were the Churches. An enterprising cleric organised a small first-aid tent outside the factory gate. Soon it grew into a properly built clinic, able to handle quite serious cases and to treat minor injuries.
The Town Council became interested, together with local bodies like the Chamber of Commerce and the Rotary Club. The clinic grew into a small hospital, with modern equipment, an operating theatre and a full-time staff of doctors and nurses.
Several lives were saved. Finally, the factory management, recognising the good that was being done and wishing to prove itself enlightened, gave the hospital its official backing, with unrestricted access to the factory, a small annual grant, and an ambulance to speed serious cases from workshop to hospital ward.
Year by year, as production increased, the accident rate continued to rise. More and more were hurt and maimed, and in spite of everything the hospital could do, more and more people died from the injuries they received.
Only then did people begin to ask whether it was enough to treat people's injuries while leaving untouched the machinery that caused them.
The Time Is Now and I Am Here
During World War Two, a German widow hid Jewish refugees in her own home. When her friends discovered the situation, they became extremely alarmed.
'You are risking your own well-being,' they told her.
'I know that,' she said.
'Then why,' they demanded, 'do you persist in this foolishness?'
Her answer was stark and to the point.
'I am doing it,' she said, 'because the time is now and I am here.'
As Long As You Did It to the Least
The young sister stood outside the room, quivering in fright. She knew what she was supposed to do, but this was her first night in the hospice (a home for the dying). She peeped into the room and saw row after row of beds. She saw people lying on these beds. They were dying.
Behind her, the young sister heard the familiar flip-flop of Mother Teresa's sandals. Quickly she wiped away the tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks. In a moment, Mother Teresa had her by the arm. 'Sister Anna, this is your first time here.'
'Yes, Mother,' the sister replied.
'Good, good. Come with me. I have someone I want you to meet,' said the wrinkled lady with the heavenly smile.
Mother Teresa took Sister Anna by the arm and led her down the aisles between the beds. Soon they arrived at a bed in the far corner of the huge room. On the bed lay a human skeleton. His eyes were sunk deep into his head. He had only one tooth in his mouth. His hands trembled as he reached out to Mother Teresa. The nun took the man's face in her large, gentle hands. With her head she motioned to Sister Anna to kneel down beside her.'Sister Anna,' Mother Teresa said, 'I would like you to meet Jesus.'
A Peak Moment
Maslow, a psychologist, says that everyone enjoys peak experiences. There are times we experience (often unexpectedly) some joy or peace. There are times when we feel happy about ourselves and the whole world seems great.
Love Is Expressed
Mary heard and answered a call, experienced its cost and responded to that call through a life of service. Luke captured that response in his description of Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth.
No real love remains unexpressed for very long. Our feelings need to find an outlet. We need to do something for the people we love. Somehow we must express how we feel. Actions follow feelings and attachments. Our service may involve a direct form of care for people such as the sick, involvement in community affairs, or the issuing of a challenge to the larger structures of society that exploit and hurt people. Our expression might be public, or it might be personal: offering a word of hope or giving someone advice.
When faith and practice are separated, the result is a distorted, absurd form of religion. The call of faith must be drawn into the various parts of our lives, where it will find expression in service and in sharing what God has done. In a word, the teaching of Jesus and Mary's visit to Elizabeth present us with the challenge of faith.
As Christians, we are not independent believers but members of a family of faith on a journey together. The consequences of this shared journey are important. Faith not only places us in a relationship with God; it also puts us in a relationship with one another. To believe in the mission given to each of us individually and as a community is to believe in the future. To believe and to accept this mission is to believe that our part in that future is important.
Journal and reflect on the following
- The factory parable in 'Being Aware' distinguishes between treating injuries and changing the machinery that causes them. Where in your own community or the wider world do you see good people responding generously to suffering without questioning the systems that create it? What might it cost to address the cause rather than only the symptom?
- The German widow answered, 'because the time is now and I am here.' What does her response suggest about the difference between waiting to feel ready and simply acting? Is there a situation in your life right now where you already know what is being asked of you?
- Mother Teresa introduced the dying man not as a patient but as Jesus. How does the belief that Christ is present in 'the least' change the way we are called to treat people who are vulnerable, forgotten, or difficult to love? Does this belief make compassion easier or harder?
- The reading on Mary says that 'no real love remains unexpressed for very long.' Think of a time your love for someone moved you to action rather than just feeling. What does this suggest about the relationship between faith and what we actually do?
- The final reading claims that to believe is also to accept that 'our part in that future is important.' Do you genuinely believe your own contribution matters? What gets in the way of acting as though it does, and what would change if you took that belief seriously?
Pause the audio and listen to the song “Do Something”
Please pray the following prayer
God,
you meet us in the crushed and the forgotten, in the outstretched hand of the dying and in the courage of those who act because the time is now and they are here. We see you in the German widow who sheltered the refugee at great cost, in Mother Teresa kneeling beside the dying man and naming him Jesus, and in Mary who answered your call and carried your love to her cousin's door. Open our eyes to recognise your face in the least among us, and give us the widow's courage to act when others are afraid, the saint's compassion to draw near to the broken, and Mary's readiness to say yes and let our love become service. Help us not merely to treat the wounds of the world but to heal what causes them, and to believe that our own small part in your future truly matters. May we not wait to feel ready, but rise as they did, our love spilling over into service, into justice, and into hope for others. We ask this through Christ, who lives in the least of these. Amen.
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