Our parish passes baskets at offertory. This presents a whole host of fun “mid-game” entertainment for families with children in the 3 – 7 age group. You know the drill – you can see it coming when the basket gets close. Arguments over who gets to hold the basket, or if someone gets to hold it for too long or too short, or who has too many “pieces” to put in, or who gets to pass it to the next family – or on special occasions – who gets to pass it to grandpa and grandma.
Then there’s the stressful moments when you can’t find any pocket change or small bills – and you have to decide, do I give the kid a twenty even though we do the monthly automatic withdrawal and this is all for show? Or do I pretend I don’t have my wallet or purse and then have to deal with the crying?
This past Sunday, the basket made its way a few pews ahead of us and my wife was ready. She had some change out for my 4 year old daughter. The older two have lost interest, and the youngest doesn’t know what’s going on yet, so currently she’s queen of the collection basket. As she was watching the basket get close, she was getting more and more excited – playfully enjoying the feel of the coins before they went into the basket. She even taunted her older brother with what she had to give, reliving the good ole’ days when he had more interest.
And then it happened.
Right as the basket was passed back to my wife, she dropped the change. She was sitting on my lap, so it was either under her, or under me, or maybe it softly landed on the floor. Here the basket came – and she was frantically looking for it. The usher was standing post – as were the families behind us – waiting for that basket. The mounting stress for my daughter. The mounting stress for me. I did what I had to do. I ended up passing the basket without her contribution.
Then the tears and sobs came.
Hats off to her, because she kept looking and was able to find the coins. When I realized she had found them, I asked, “Honey, do you want to walk back and put them in the basket?” She softly nodded up and down with tears flowing. I tried to enlist the oldest to help with this reconnaissance mission – but that was a no go. And I get it. We all know that awkward feeling, like you’re doing something wrong, when you leave a pew during mass.
I knew what I had to do.
I picked her up, awkwardly crossed over our pew neighbors, got to the center aisle, and set her down. I led her back until we found the usher and the basket. The collection had just gotten over, and he kindly lowered it for her to make her contribution. All was right in the universe and I was proud of her.
When we got back to the pew, I got to thinking…..
My daughter so wanted to play a part and make her contribution. And when her chance came – she blew it. The visceral emotion and pain and loss she felt. But she didn’t give up and regained what she lost, finding the coins on the floor. And once she did, the regret set in, which was almost worse. The feel of that money made the missed opportunity even MORE real and tangible. She still wanted to make her contribution – to finish the job – but she was afraid. How in the world would she get to where she needed to go? From her 4 year old perspective – in this huge church – that basket could have been across the state for all she knew. She needed someone to help her. She needed someone who could bring her to the place she so desperately wanted to go, but was too afraid to go alone.
We are all just like my daughter. We have a contribution we want to make and we are often too scared to make it on our own.
We want this contribution to be something incredibly meaningful. We want our lives to matter. We are all quietly on our own mission to figure this out. And we all will end up at the same place – realizing our most precious and meaningful contribution is through God and to God. He is the most meaningful recipient. He created us for Him. We feel an emptiness and anxiety until we realize this purpose we all share, as His children. But this is really hard to accept. Who the heck am I to think God wants me? I’m a sinner; I’m broken; I feel like I fail and fall more often then I win and stand strong. We are like my daughter – loose change in hand, dying to give it to the rightful owner and so eager to give of ourselves, and yet so afraid to do the scary work of figuring out how we can give it.
Making this “ultimate” contribution of ourselves to God takes humility and trust. We have to be okay going to Him, acknowledging our brokenness and utter dependence, and deal with the crazy reality that He actually wants us.
Good thing we have someone willing to help us. And who’s that?
Mary.
Mary brings us to the place we all so desperately want and need to go in order to make our contribution. She invites us to Him and leads us to Him in a way only she can.
God wants us so desperately to come to Him – but he can’t force us. And while deep down we love Him and want to make our contribution – our ego and flesh and brokenness and fear often get in the way. God knows this. That’s why He gave himself to us through Mary. That’s why she’s such a blessing. That’s why we pray to her. That’s why we go to her. She calls us to Him; to the big huge “basket” where we are all called to chip in.
Mary was all flesh and bones like you and me. She trusted God in every moment in a way that we are all called to do. There’s nothing scary about Mary. And that’s what I have learned to cherish about her.
So let’s not ever keep ourselves from God. We have Mary. She can lead us through the awkwardness. Let’s pray to her. Just like with my daughter, we can let her lead us to the place we know we need to go to make our contribution.
Then there’s the stressful moments when you can’t find any pocket change or small bills – and you have to decide, do I give the kid a twenty even though we do the monthly automatic withdrawal and this is all for show? Or do I pretend I don’t have my wallet or purse and then have to deal with the crying?
This past Sunday, the basket made its way a few pews ahead of us and my wife was ready. She had some change out for my 4 year old daughter. The older two have lost interest, and the youngest doesn’t know what’s going on yet, so currently she’s queen of the collection basket. As she was watching the basket get close, she was getting more and more excited – playfully enjoying the feel of the coins before they went into the basket. She even taunted her older brother with what she had to give, reliving the good ole’ days when he had more interest.
And then it happened.
Right as the basket was passed back to my wife, she dropped the change. She was sitting on my lap, so it was either under her, or under me, or maybe it softly landed on the floor. Here the basket came – and she was frantically looking for it. The usher was standing post – as were the families behind us – waiting for that basket. The mounting stress for my daughter. The mounting stress for me. I did what I had to do. I ended up passing the basket without her contribution.
Then the tears and sobs came.
Hats off to her, because she kept looking and was able to find the coins. When I realized she had found them, I asked, “Honey, do you want to walk back and put them in the basket?” She softly nodded up and down with tears flowing. I tried to enlist the oldest to help with this reconnaissance mission – but that was a no go. And I get it. We all know that awkward feeling, like you’re doing something wrong, when you leave a pew during mass.
I knew what I had to do.
I picked her up, awkwardly crossed over our pew neighbors, got to the center aisle, and set her down. I led her back until we found the usher and the basket. The collection had just gotten over, and he kindly lowered it for her to make her contribution. All was right in the universe and I was proud of her.
When we got back to the pew, I got to thinking…..
My daughter so wanted to play a part and make her contribution. And when her chance came – she blew it. The visceral emotion and pain and loss she felt. But she didn’t give up and regained what she lost, finding the coins on the floor. And once she did, the regret set in, which was almost worse. The feel of that money made the missed opportunity even MORE real and tangible. She still wanted to make her contribution – to finish the job – but she was afraid. How in the world would she get to where she needed to go? From her 4 year old perspective – in this huge church – that basket could have been across the state for all she knew. She needed someone to help her. She needed someone who could bring her to the place she so desperately wanted to go, but was too afraid to go alone.
We are all just like my daughter. We have a contribution we want to make and we are often too scared to make it on our own.
We want this contribution to be something incredibly meaningful. We want our lives to matter. We are all quietly on our own mission to figure this out. And we all will end up at the same place – realizing our most precious and meaningful contribution is through God and to God. He is the most meaningful recipient. He created us for Him. We feel an emptiness and anxiety until we realize this purpose we all share, as His children. But this is really hard to accept. Who the heck am I to think God wants me? I’m a sinner; I’m broken; I feel like I fail and fall more often then I win and stand strong. We are like my daughter – loose change in hand, dying to give it to the rightful owner and so eager to give of ourselves, and yet so afraid to do the scary work of figuring out how we can give it.
Making this “ultimate” contribution of ourselves to God takes humility and trust. We have to be okay going to Him, acknowledging our brokenness and utter dependence, and deal with the crazy reality that He actually wants us.
Good thing we have someone willing to help us. And who’s that?
Mary.
Mary brings us to the place we all so desperately want and need to go in order to make our contribution. She invites us to Him and leads us to Him in a way only she can.
God wants us so desperately to come to Him – but he can’t force us. And while deep down we love Him and want to make our contribution – our ego and flesh and brokenness and fear often get in the way. God knows this. That’s why He gave himself to us through Mary. That’s why she’s such a blessing. That’s why we pray to her. That’s why we go to her. She calls us to Him; to the big huge “basket” where we are all called to chip in.
Mary was all flesh and bones like you and me. She trusted God in every moment in a way that we are all called to do. There’s nothing scary about Mary. And that’s what I have learned to cherish about her.
So let’s not ever keep ourselves from God. We have Mary. She can lead us through the awkwardness. Let’s pray to her. Just like with my daughter, we can let her lead us to the place we know we need to go to make our contribution.