STEWARDSHIP—LIVING CHRISTIANITY [ RADICALLY]

New World Articles

We're here. Why aren't we laughing?
By Rich Goode,
contributor

It was a sad day but Katie didn't realize it. After all, Katie was only five years old. She was one of those kids who had a perennial bounce in her step. She ambled innocently into her grandmother's house where, the previous night, her Pop-Pop had passed away unexpectedly in his sleep. She knew something was different as soon as she arrived. Everyone was so quiet, so serious.

Katie must have sensed the fear that adults feel when confronted by mortality. After a while, she walked up to her mother. "Mom," she whispered, "I know everyone's sad about Pop-Pop but I'm here now. Why aren't we laughing?"

Precocious? Maybe. But children like Katie have something important to teach us. At five, it was incomprehensible to little Katie that people could be somber in her presence. Days were filled with wonder for her back then. New adventures lurked around every corner. Barring a stubbed toe or a lost doll, what was there to be sad or fearful about? As adults, we cannot hope to recapture all the innocence and excitement of being a pre-schooler. But children unconsciously grasp important truths we, as adults, need to relearn. Little children are naturally less fearful, more trusting. They seem to understand instinctively a central message of stewardship--that each new day is, purely and simply, a gift from God to be cherished.

To accept each day as a gift from God, like Katie did, we must do one of the hardest things for an adult to do; we have to trust as a child trusts. It is a stance, rooted in faith, that can seem to fly in the face of the harsh realities that confront us. Nonetheless, we need to trust, as Julian of Norwich did, that "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." It is interesting to note in that Julian wrote during the Black Plague in Europe. The stance that Julian took, confronted by death on all sides, is the opposite of fear.

As we listen to the news, there is a great deal to be fearful about these days. Our faith, however, teaches us that life itself, with all its hardships and harsh realities, is good when we receive it as a gift. One thing Jesus told us over and over was "Do not be afraid." He said it as often as he said anything.

In a small way, when I truly believe and put aside my fear, however briefly, maybe I have done something more than made myself feel better; perhaps I have chipped away at the fear that seems to grip the world.

It sounds simple: "receive life as a gift and all will be well." It reminds me of the time I read a book that encouraged me to "live in the moment." That sounds easy, I thought; bring it on. Put aside regrets about the past and worries about the future and be present to the moment. No problem, right? Try it some time. As simple as it is to say, it is one of the most challenging things to truly live out.

Similarly, accepting each day as a gift, trusting in God that "all manner of things shall be well" and denying fear is easy to talk about. It requires immense discipline, however, not to slip back into old patterns of apprehension and worry. We need courage to face the black plague or the evening news with peace in our souls. Trusting that life itself is good, faithfully accepting each day gratefully, as a gift from God, is a start; it is a mindset required if we are to live in his truth, if we are to know his peace.

We're here, after all, and what a gift this life is. In the face of very real suffering, we believe that "the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." As Katie's story should remind us, why be bogged down with worry when, with souls trusting in God, we could be laughing?

Goode is director of planned giving for the Archdiocese of Chicago's Department of Stewardship and Development. He can be contacted at (312) 534-7848.