Dear Friends,
Years ago, a psychologist friend of mine said that the most
important thing we can ask someone in need is, “What do you want me to do for
you?” It’s so much easier to do something we want to do or to presume we know
what the other needs. My most vivid example of getting it wrong was an incident
that took place years ago at St. Mary’s Church, where I was a staff member. One
of our regulars at weekday Mass was a very senior woman named Brigit. Brigit
was Irish-born and most of us found her speech hard to understand. She mumbled for
one thing, and sounded as though she had pebbles in her mouth. Brigit wore the
most raggedy shoes imaginable. They were sneakers, open and frayed across the
top. Concerned Mass-goers said to me, “Get Brigit new shoes. We’ll pay for
them.” I did. Brigit seemed grateful, but within days, the sneakers looked the
same as the previous pair. Then it came out. We had not really asked Brigit why
her shoes looked as they did. Turns out she had painful bunions, and the only
way she could tolerate her shoes was to alter them. We had missed the point
entirely because we thought we knew but had not asked.
In Mark, Matthew and Luke, Jesus asked before acting. The
three incidents are similar, involving one or two blind men, and in the third
case, a blind man named Bartimaeus. Each attracted Jesus’ attention, but Jesus
did not presume to help them before they stated their desire. “What do you want
me to do for you?” The answer came with conviction. “Master, I want to see.”
(Mark 10.51) The implicit became explicit.
In recent weeks, two dramatic stories have borne out the
importance of someone inviting others to act in the spirit of Jesus’ words to
the blind men, who could be understood as anyone needing help. In the
Christopher Nolan film, “Dunkirk,” Winston
Churchill called the British fleet of fishermen and pleasure boats that made their
home along England’s southern shore to rescue as many British soldiers,
stranded, backs against the sea on the beaches of Dunkirk. Once called, the
fleet made its way across the Channel to bring home as many as they could. The
members of the fleet were not without danger, but the effort went forward so
that these soldiers would once again see Britain and stand on its soil.
The other dramatic story is more current. Called by
authority to put all boats to the rescue effort in southeast Texas, the Cajun
Navy arrived from Louisiana – men with their memory of Katrina still fresh.
Once there, the Cajun army asked those they came to rescue, “What can we do for
you?” They saved the lives of people and pets, not without danger to
themselves.
We really don’t need a disaster or a war to make active in ourselves
the example of Jesus of how to initiate generous service to others. We live
with family, neighbors, friends, and newcomers to our land who all, at some
time or other, need to hear those words from us. “What do you want me to do for
you?” Rather than hide behind our locked doors, or avert looking into the eyes
of others, we need to ask and then to act. Now is the time.
And then there are the times we are the recipients of the
question, the need. Be ready to tell it clearly and be grateful for the ones
who have come in the name of God to help.
~Sister Joan Sobala