My Catholic grandmother lived with the consolation of faith, but in her daily life she showed little of religion. Born in Paris between the world wars, she grew up in a time of unrest, occupation and dispossession. After marrying an American soldier, she lived all over the world, but never felt at home in Algeria, Gabon, Ireland or the United States. I knew her better later on, after my grandfather had died and she was living again in Paris. France is the “eldest daughter of the Church,” and in typical fashion has been a neglectful child with its anticlerical bent. My grandmother, too, was angry with God, chiefly for taking my grandfather from her too soon. In her anger, however, she was not ready to break off conversation with Him. Unlike my colorful uncle, who invented sins as a pretext to go to confession, my grandmother felt that being a widow was sufficient penance for a lifetime. Going to mass was her time to air her grievances and exact restitution in the only form she could obtain it—in the choral and organ music for which she had a keen appreciation.
Have you spotted the fallacy yet? My grandmother was a saint, in the sense of being one who is particularly close to God, but her faith was too conditional. We don’t decide if we are still on speaking terms with God. He decides what He has to say to us. Of course, this is a great comfort for the faithful. The best expression of this comfort that I know is the prayer attributed to Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow:
O God, I know not what I ought to ask of Thee.
Thou and Thou alone knowest my needs.
Thou lovest me more than I am able to love Thee.
O Father, grant unto me, Thy servant, all that I cannot ask…
Teach me to pray. Do Thyself pray within me. Amen.
The things that God asks of us are not to meet His needs—He is complete and perfect, and our purpose in life is to know and reflect His completeness as he works within us in ways that we cannot ask. These thoughts lead me back to stewardship, which is our season’s work—or mine, anyway! We frame stewardship and our pledge drive in terms of contributing to God’s work, but our pledges and the will to make them are something that God gives to us.
As of last week, we have received just more than 150 pledges, including ten that are new. More than half are increased from last year, and 30 were made online. Alleluia! Compared to this time last year, we have exceeded last year’s pledge total by a narrow margin, and we are hopeful that we will go on to increase our total for the stewardship campaign as a whole.
If you have not pledged yet, please prayerfully consider doing so today. There will be no Pledge Sunday this year, but pledging online is an easy way to make a commitment, which can be paid at any future time, and can be adjusted if circumstances change. There is a “Make a Pledge for 2021” button near the top of our home page at https://csmsg.org. You can also return the pledge card that was mailed to your home, or simply drop a line to Alexis Posnanski, Director of Stewardship and Giving, at aposnanski@csmsg.org. We know that some can pledge only a little, and others are facing significant uncertainties during the pandemic. A pledge of any size, even $5 a week—even $5 total—is a token of belonging, of faithfulness and of trust in our shared mission.
Ian S. Hagemann, MD, PhD
Clerk of the Vestry, Stewardship Chair
November 9, 2020
