Taking the Time to Make a Difference

Click on the player below to hear this as a podcast. Time: 4:28.

Download this podcast as a zip file for your computer. Click here and then "save as" on your computer.

He was a good friend, but he was far from perfect. He enjoyed coming to my house for reasons I came to understand only years later. We were true childhood friends, but friendship was not the only reason for the many hours we spent together. Any grown-up with eyes to see would recognize the reality of the situation, that my grade school classmate came to my home so often because he did not have a real home of his own. We built tree houses. We built forts. In a nearby wooded area we found a rock outcropping that looked a little like the entrance to a cave; it was nothing of the sort, but nonetheless it became one more place we could go to seek security and shelter. Now the part about my friend being far from perfect. While he was always free – and even encouraged to be away from the house where his family lived, I often had work to do at my home or in the farm field my family maintained a few miles away. My mother and father worked all of the time, except on Sundays, and I certainly could not legitimately complain about the few tasks expected of me. One time, I remember, I went with my parents to the field where the sweet corn had just grown up to a height of a foot or so. My father used a wheeled contraption to cultivate the ground between the rows; my task was to help hoe off the weeds among the plants within a row. My friend, who wanted to work on the fort we were building, came with us to the field instead. After a few minutes of working side by side with me, he said he knew a way that we could get out of doing what we were supposed to do. Before I could question him about his plan, he raised his hoe and “accidentally” hacked off a green and healthy corn stalk. I was surprised, shocked, unwilling to believe a friend would cause intentional harm to our family’s plantings. A few more steps along the row, he was about to repeat the accident – but my parents intervened and put a quick end to the evil scheme. That was the end of my classmate’s work in the field, but not mine, and sad disappointment slowly sucked the sunlight out of the rest of the day. It was a troublesome time for our friendship, but it survived and my home remained open and understanding.

* * *

I thought about this incident as I read a story from the Zenit news service about a recent discussion on the campus of the Catholic University of America. Cardinal Francis George of Chicago was one of the participants, delving into the question: Can belief be made “more believable” for both seekers and the faithful alike? Cardinal George was quoted: "When I talk to people in their 20s and 40s, they want the Church to be a stable point of reference in the world, even if they do not want to be a part of the Church themselves." That was just my experience, looking back on those childhood days. My friend, who was always seeking a kind of home, valued the stability I had – but not enough to want to take everything that came with it.

* * *

The story, and the memory it elicited, made me wonder what others think about those of us who profess a Christian belief. When others are questioning and seeking, uncertain but hopeful, what will they see in our practice of the faith we claim? Joyful participation in a community? Or a grudging compliance with rules? Do we continue to welcome those, who just like us, are far from perfect? Is it possible that we are called to welcome the uncertain? Even those who have done wrong? Would that make a difference?

Send your comments about "Taking Time to Make a Difference" to . Contact about subscribing for your newspaper.

Share this article on Facebook! Click here.