Monday Morning Music Ministry

Some things that occurred to me during Thanksgiving week, and things that happened to happen, as things do, that had me thinking about ordinary things in a new way.

I called the local homeless shelter in nearby Flint – as close to a soup kitchen as we can have these days; run by a ministry, like an old-fashioned revival mission – to ask if they needed a volunteer to serve, prep meals, or clean up on Thanksgiving. “No thanks,” a man said with a chuckle. “If you want to come by and help… it would be to help eat all the food we’re going to have.”

He explained that volunteers often are needed at many times during the year (duly noted) but on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, they have more offers of volunteer help than they can accommodate. “I’m sorry.”

He said he was sorry. A turn of phrase, but I know what was behind that. “There is a season, turn, turn,” goes the famous passage from Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3.

In King Solomon’s words, or the folk song based on them, it does not say that there is a time to pity… although we know that we should have charitable impulses. It does not say that there is a time to “ignore,” of course: when things come our way but do not “go” our way, that is when it is our time to address them. That is what’s called Life. In Biblical perspective, lives well lived.

If we serve the poor, we should do so not out of pity, but out of love.

If (like my friend Becky Spencer and her Grand Staff Swaziland outreaches) (I will call friends I admire to my mind here) we work in overseas missions, it is not because it is easy or glamorous, but because it is right.

If spouses, children, or parents care for sick family members, the world might remark about burdens, but we know – only as we can know – that somehow such service is a blessing, not a burden.

My sister had a daughter with severe cerebral palsy, cared for her, and went through very hard times before losing Liza… but says she never could know the depth or precious quality of love except for the “crisis.”

My wife endured diabetes, heart attacks, kidney failure, strokes, cancer, amputations, and heart and kidney transplants… but never felt sorry for herself. She said till the end that she would not choose to go through it all again, but would not change it for the world. From the increased faith and reliance on God, she asked how she could be sorry for that?

Jesus, on the cross, was not sorry for Himself, but for the thieves on the crosses to the left and right. And He even forgave those who persecuted Him and hung Him out to die – for “they knew not what they did.”

The singer Bradley Walker, whose muscular dystrophy has consigned him to a wheelchair all his life, does not complain but asks sympathy rather for the family of his songwriting partner Tim Johnson who died at a young age. And the singer Rory Feek who lost his wife Joey, after she gave birth to their Down Syndrome daughter Indie – neither Joey nor Rory nor anyone who knows them feels sorry for them.

“Sorry.” It is a strange concept, stranger the more we contemplate. When we say we feel sorry for someone, it is really a form of sanitary self-pity? We will miss them, for instance?

It has been said – and it is a good lesson in perspective – that we are more fortunate than the angels. How? We can almost feel sorry for them, because as sinners seeking forgiveness, accepting Christ, and knowing the glory of salvation – we can sing, and angels simply cannot sing, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me!” In a way, I feel sorry for them. “I once was lost, but now I’m found!”

So let us go forth – yes, on days that are not Thanksgiving or Christmas or Easter – and serve others and serve God, not out of obligation or pity or sorrow (the root-word of “sorry”) but out of a willing heart, love, and joy.

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Click: I Feel Sorry For Them