The temperatures were in their 60s when I arrived at the abbey on Monday afternoon. I pondered whether to leave my coat in the car or carry it inside, choosing the latter. I knew there was a possibility of snow when I left the house, but I still chose to pack tennis shoes and dress boots, nothing with traction. The view from my room was perfect with the cattle grazing on a springlike day.
Things started to change yesterday afternoon as the snow started to fall. "This might not be the retreat you had in mind," one of the monks shared at dinner. "But perhaps it is the retreat God wants you to have." He then continued to share how he would likely be serving the meals again the next day since the woman who is hired to plan and prepare them would not be able to make it in the snow. "I'm not sure what we will have, but it will work out."
The snow has continued to fall, and the view from my room has drastically changed. Meanwhile, the monk who served us last night has continued to show up for us - not in a robe or cassock, but in faded Levi's and a white t-shirt. This member of the community is the one with the beautiful voice that leads the chanting during worship. He's also the one who often hears the confession of guests and provides spiritual direction. He's a spiritual leader. But this week he is the one offering hospitality, the chef who is making sure guests are fed. It's not the week he had in mind, but he's aware that God is always wanting to use his gifts.
And while I wasn't signed up to receive spiritual direction from him in the morning, his witness has already touched my heart and directed my prayer life. His making meatloaf instead of offering absolutions has served as a powerful reminder of what it means to always be ready to serve, ready to adapt, ready to step outside our zones of comfort or standard role, in order to meet a need in front of us. I'm pondering again how God might do some of God's best work when we are embodying Brian Andreas StoryPeople artwork called "Step Right Up" which reads, "One day, I decided to help wherever I could & it was almost like magic, because I was exactly what the world needed everywhere I went."
One of my colleagues reminds our team often that we are called to be church workers first and then whatever role we have been hired to fill. She wants us to constantly be aware that there are times when we need to drop everything to answer the door, or help with a flooding basement, or take out the trash.
In "A New Day in the City," I write about an owner of a steakhouse who puts a can on the front steps of the restaurant when she's interviewing a prospective employee. If the person coming for her interview notices the can and stops to pick it up, then Van knows the person will pay attention to the detail patrons at the restaurant are accustomed to receiving. We all know what it's like to be in a restaurant with an empty glass and see three servers pass us with a full pitcher of water while failing to fill our glass because we are not in their assigned section. There are times when teamwork means everything.
But what if we always walked through life not with earbuds playing our selected songs but with ears tuned to listen to the needs around us?
What if we sought to never walk into our office buildings without thinking about what might need to be done to contribute to the success of the entire team versus minding our own business?
And what might happen if we never walked into a church building without being ready to serve - as an extra greeter, the one who makes the coffee or cleans up following the act of hospitality designed to provide real community to all who come, the person who empties the overflowing trash bin in the women's bathroom instead of assuming it can wait until Monday or that someone else will do it, or the one who checks in and asks, "Do you need anything today? Is there any way I can be of service to all God will do today?"
The busiest week of the church year is upon us. I have a list of things to do, sermons to write, details to manage. But I also pray that I'll be attune to what is needed, where God wants me to step right up.
What about you?
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