Aside from 2019 and 2020, several deanery councils of Catholic women annually honor parish women who volunteer.

 

Some of them are noted as women who attend adoration and/or who are touted as someone having deep faith. However, the numerous works done by these volunteers who are so important for the functioning of parishes usually take up the bulk of the paragraphs about honorees. 

 

A list of such wonderfully-concrete actions can be a kind of temptation for each of us as we strive to follow Jesus. We may end up focusing on what we do — and in that busyness perhaps find ourselves half-forgeting the God who is our constant companion in all of life’s ups and downs.

 

Years ago I read that before Mother Teresa of Calcutta died, she expressed a great concern for her Missionaries of Charity sisters. No one could argue about the value of their works of mercy, but their foundress was truly worried whether or not each of them had developed, and were living always, that personal one-on-one connection with Jesus.

 

Her concerns may seem odd because we tend to look at the labors of Christians and their tangible fruits, and those sisters are like Christian soldiers on the front lines in their service to the poor. We might wonder how could they not be best buddies with Jesus?

 

And yet ... if we look at the first story of Martha and Mary in the Gospels, Martha was clearly immersed in the tasks at hand, not listening to Jesus in the next room. Later, when she came to meet Jesus after her brother had died, we can see that her faith in Jesus had grown strong and great — and that she could come right to Him and profess that faith as well as her sorrows. She had developed that one-on-one loving friendship with Him that was filled with trust and honesty.

 

And so we realize that good works do not keep us from Jesus — and we also understand that there is more to life than our hard work. When Jesus told Martha early on that her sister, Mary, had “chosen the better part” of sitting at His feet and listening, it must have sunk in, compelling Martha to see the world and her faith differently. She became, you might say, more mature and well-rounded in her relationship with Jesus as time went by.

 

That’s really what all of us need to strive for whether or not we are able to be active at our parishes. When healthy and full of time and talents, we still can pray before, during and after our volunteer service — and we can spend time with Jesus from home and in any quiet spaces.

 

Finding and embracing quiet times with Jesus is not easy, and perhaps it is especially difficult for those who are and have been active volunteers for many years. Long ago, a woman at my parish was the most delightful leader and hard-working volunteer — and then she suffered a massive stroke. 

 

She couldn’t talk, walk or really move much at all. Her husband brought her faithfully to Mass, and I sensed her struggle with being kind of “frozen” in place for some years. 

 

What I noticed as time went on, however, was that she seemed to struggle less and glow a bit more. Before she died, to me she seemed quite radiant with faith that she couldn’t express verbally or through service. My conclusion was that she shared her faith with the rest of us all during her life — first actively and then perhaps even more powerfully when paralyzed and silent.

 

How hard that kind of transition was for her and is for us! But all who thrive on active service can learn to treasure quiet moments with God — starting with a few minutes and working up to longer times of sitting at His feet. It does take some effort and lots of  practice to learn to quiet ourselves inside — and that inner silence needs to be practiced over and over again.

 

Like Mother Teresa’s sisters and all hard-working women of inspiration, everyone can grow in faith by choosing that better part on a regular basis — and Jesus will help us grow in that ability whenever we ask. He wants to share Himself with us!

 

May we all be sure to, ahem, work at it.