I saw a stranger yestreen;
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place,
and in the name of the Triune
he blessed myself and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones, and the Lark said in her song
often, often, often,
goes the Christ in the stranger's guise,
often, often, often,
goes the Christ in the stranger's guise.
- Irish Rune of Hospitality
from The Life of Saint Brigid by Jane G Meyer
My children (like their mother) are a lot more responsive to stories than to lectures. If I demand that they share, go on and on about how that food on their plate they're refusing to touch could nourish whole households in countries impoverished and starving, remind them sternly to think of others besides themselves, their thoughts tend to wander. Engage them, however, with real life examples of courage, faith, generosity, and surprisingly, suddenly, it begins to click: we have the potential, through Christ Jesus, to do more, much more, than seek hungrily after ways to consistently satisfy our fickle cravings.
It has been a blessing for me as a parent to be introduced, through Orthodoxy, to men, women and children whose sacrifices for the sake of the Church - for the sake of LOVE - were to such a degree they are remembered and reverenced as saints. It's getting harder and harder within our current culture to stay focused - I mean to really take this salvation thing seriously. We like our Gospel message warm, familiar and realistically challenging in a not too awfully demanding kind of way. I'll tell you the truth, there was a time not too long ago when I would have been highly skeptical of, even threatened by, tales of individuals so zealous and filled to the brim with God's mercy and righteousness (having willingly, decidedly, emptied themselves of themselves) they smudged that line while still on earth between eternity (heaven) and temporalness. "That's too intense," I would have thought. "Too ...I don't know - too something." It took years of exposure to a Christianity not buffered by modernity, with all of its sensible rationales and outlinable answers, to open up my mind and soul to the possibility that true holiness is mystical, undefinable, limitless.
My friend and Handmaiden editor, the talented Jane G Meyer, recently sent to me her inspiring new children's book, The Life of Saint Brigid - Abbess of Kildare. I was thrilled, of course, because I'd been anticipating its completion and because it is such a treat for me to share with my sons and daughters a Tradition I have learned over the last decade to cherish and appreciate with all that I am - every cell of my being. The saints play an integral role in our everyday lives as Orthodox Christians. They worship with us, pray for us, and encourage us with their uncompromising dedication to stretch ourselves further than we think possible, believing God, Himself, will provide the wherewithal we are sorely lacking to move mountains in His name. Saint Brigid of Ireland, with her generous and empathetic heart, saw Christ in everyone. She was addicted to helping her neighbors, particularly those less fortunate than herself. She gave away her own possessions, others' possessions; she refused to marry, choosing rather to devote all of her passion and energy to being of service to her fellow human beings - suffering, rejoicing and working miracles along the way.
Priscilla and Mary, what I long for you girls (and for myself) is the same type of bold, brave, unprejudiced compassion that prompted St. Brigid to put the needs of those around here before her own comfort. I want for us to become ever more hospitable, willing at a moment's notice to nourish the lonely, the sick, the poor, the thirsty, the forgotten. It is of utmost importance to me that I teach you to be aware, to stay sensitive and attentive to the plight of our brothers and sisters enduring hardships. May we all fully realize, by way of St. Brigid's testimony, what a difference we can make in this world (or more accurately, God can make through us) one small, obedient and selfless act a time.
