Our parish rector is still on sabbatical, so while she’s away we sometime have guest preachers on Sunday morning to help out our assistant rector. This past Sunday, we listened to one of our fellow parishioners, a retired “famous” (so he says) staff member from the local professional football team. His topic was on “transition” (I think) since the gospel reading was from Christ’s time in Caesarea Philippi - His last stop before returning to Jerusalem. The topic of transition was the best I could make out, because the sermon seemed to wander - so much so that at one point I wrote a big “?” in my bulletin and showed it to Jessica, who just shrugged.

Later that day, I got to thinking about something profound that he did say amidst the rambling. He talked about the transition we go through in life, specifically from youth to adulthood. At some given age, we’re all automatically transitioned from youth to manhood/womanhood. The shift there is simply in gaining the ability to procreate. The next change is from manhood/womanhood to adulthood. The speaker defined that time as when we transition from takers into givers. And that’s what I found particularly meaningful.

In youth, we are singularly needy. My wife and I provide for every need our son has. He depends on us shelter him from the elements, to provide comfort and a place to sleep. We provide health care and arrange for his imunizations. Not only can he not dress or undress himself (though he’s getting there), he has no capacity to acquire and maintain clean clothes on his own. He’s not able to go to the bathroom by himself, though he’s learning that, too. He drinks and eats only what we give him, at the time we give it to him. It’s only been in the last year that he’s even able to feed himself with utensils, and then only if we cut his food up for him. I brush his teeth for him. He depends on us for nourishment, not only in the body, but in mind and spirit as well. We’ve taught him to eat. We’ve taught him language, colors, numbers, the alphabet, animals, right from left, etc, etc. We’ve taught him how to pray. He is, by nature, a creature that must be given everything. (And I do all these things joyfully.)

As he gets older, basic needs will be replaced by more complex ones. He’ll be able to feed himself, clothe himself, and bathe himself. Of course, he’ll need us to keep providing him with the food, the clothes, the water and everything else that he consumes. He will need school supplies, and rides to and from activities - not to mention the indirect need for the money to pay for preschool and extra activities. As he grows older, he will require much more support along the way. Obviously, the real currency exchanged between the family is love.

At some point though, he’ll begin to give. It’ll be small at first, probably in the form of chores. He’ll grow in responsibility until he has taken on complete ownership of one or more tasks. (I’m thinking lawnmowing.) As he grows older, he’ll undoubtedly find other ways to give, whether it’s through church, organized community service, or just simply volunteering in his own circle of influence.

Possibly one of the biggest reasons that his arrival in my life was so profound is that he truly turned me into a giver. Sure, I’ve been employed in a career field for over 20 years. I’ve earned a living, owned houses and been a “contriubting member of society” as it were. However, while I’ve taken care of myself for a very long time, and even helped friends and neighbors on occasion (which, because of my beliefs, you’ll rarely if ever hear me speak of), I was still just living for myself. I was foremost a consumer. While I earned the money, I still took for myself. It’s pretty easy to be self-involved, with no concern given to providing for another, with perhaps a few convenient charitable acts. Even my service award within a historical society doesn’t compare with the selflessness of giving full time. The care of children is an obvious path to being a giver, but there are certainly many other paths for those without children.

I won’t say that I’m perfect - far from it. In his letter to the Romans, Paul said, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” So what is a “living sacrifice”? When you are forgotten, neglected, or purposely set at naught, and you don’t sting or hurt with the oversight, that is sacrifice. When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes are crossed, your advice disregarded, your opinion ridiculed, and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart or even defend yourself, but take it all in patient, loving silence - that is sacrifice. When you are content with any food, and offering, any raiment, any climate, any society, any solitude, any interruption by the will of God - that is giving. When you never care to refer to yourself in conversation or record your own good works or itch after commendation, you understand what it means to serve.

How often do we see examples of the opposite? I know I see it all around me, within and without. The trick is to learn to take less and give more, and to offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving.