The Grace of Giving and Receiving

There are birds singing all around me. Occasionally, a car drives past with the whoosh of wind that sounds almost like the ocean. When it’s gone, the dewy morning air stills again and the birds renew their conversations. After a long pause, the doe hiding among the pines finally decided that I wasn’t much of a threat and resumed her walk through the scrubby little field.

I’m waiting for a tow truck. My 20-year-old van is having some new issues and the drive into town for repairs was about 10 miles too long. So here I am – soaking up the peaceful morning air, watching the songbirds play, and blessing my in-laws yet again for their yearly Christmas gift of a AAA membership.

Simple Gifts

A roadside-assistance renewable gift seems pretty dull. It’s not a raw silk scarf or heavy silver earrings. It’s not even as exciting as the 10 lbs. of beeswax my in-laws surprised us with during one of their decluttering sessions. But I’ve never appreciated their other gifts as much as I have this dull, straightforward little card. We drive old cars on rough, rural roads, so breakdowns aren’t uncommon at all.

When I was younger, I didn’t really like being taken care of. I liked being capable and independent. Interdependence can be complicated, and often it left me feeling indebted to people I’d rather not owe. But the self-sufficiency and independence that used to be so much a part of the American spirit aren’t always healthy or Catholic, and humbling ourselves enough to accept the care of others can be a deeply healing decision.

Give and Take

Like my in-laws, my parents love taking care of people. When they visit, they bring tools, energy, and an enthusiastic willingness to take orders. Whether it’s weeding the garden, babysitting, or chasing escaped goats through the woods, they’re ready for it. But this year, they’re learning to accept help as well. Newly diagnosed with cancer, my mom is resting more and doing less. My dad is helping her, praying for her, and keeping up on all the little tasks she can’t do right now.

He’s also sitting back and letting his children support both of them. I visited with my little family a few weeks ago, and he spent most of the time simply soaking up our presence. My siblings planned their visits to coincide with ours, so the house was full. I cooked and baked, my brothers ran errands, and my sister washed up after meals. The two old people, tired with worry and uncertainty, presided over meals and played with their nurturing, little grandchildren. Humbling for people who love to help, who long to be always actively giving – humbling and healing.

Christlike Receiving

In many ways it reminds me of Christ washing the feet of the Apostles. St. Peter, the doer, the active man who throughout the Gospels is stepping forward to lead and inspire his fellow disciples doesn’t want to be cared for. He would rather give to Christ than take from Him.

Soon after Peter’s feet are washed on Holy Thursday, we see him giving again by standing against those who come to take Christ away in the Garden of Gethsemane. Doing and giving seem to be Peter’s primary ways of relating to those he loves. But Christ knows that no relationship can be entirely one way. Sometimes we do need to take and let others give; other times, we need to give and let others just take from us. In any healthy relationship, this giving and taking is consistent – like breathing. But that doesn’t mean it’s always easy to embrace.

Christ washing His disciples’ feet is a gift. He humbles Himself again and takes the role of a servant. As He does so, Jesus is changing the tenor of His relationship with them. He’s not only reminding them that He is both the Giver and the Gift, He’s also putting them in a position to offer something back to Him. Kneeling at their feet, washing away the dust of the day, Christ is showing them that He does actually think well of His Apostles. He loves them and He is ready to receive their love and faith in all its imperfections. Receiving His love and respect, the Apostles themselves have to give up their sense of what it means to love and serve God. They have to humble themselves and accept something that they may not want to need or deserve.

Humbling Grace

It can be intensely humbling to receive a grace. “One would like to be loved, recognized for what one is, and by everyone,” writes Albert Camus. “But that is an adolescent desire. Sooner or later one must get old, agree to be judged, or sentenced, and to receive gifts of love . . . as unmerited.” Like the Apostles, we all have to discover at some point that Someone (or many people, if we’re lucky) loves us beyond our merits. When we do discover that Grace, the only proper response is Peter’s wholehearted embrace of it.

I was inspired to see that same response in my parents this past month. The people who usually descend on my little homestead for half the year in a flurry of enthusiasm and support were graceful enough to simply welcome with gratitude their children’s help. They let me pack their freezer with a month’s worth of bone broth, serve dinner at the big table nightly, and brew up nourishing teas without a second thought.

Today, I’m taking the inspiration my parents gave me and leaning on the gifts of others too. The ability to get an easy tow to the repair shop, and the generosity of friends who are willing to go out of their way to get me home as the van is diagnosed and repaired. Sometimes it’s hard to be the one receiving support – like Peter, we’d rather be giving. But learning to receive grace in small ways from the people in our lives teaches us to respond with gratitude to the abundance of God’s Grace as well.