The Gift of Self in Community
Letter from Lillian Alvino
Photo by Kevin Laminto Zin
Dear reader,
The summer before my senior year, I was a mess. I just had a difficult exit as the president of our Newman group on campus and my faith was very much on the rocks. An overachiever at heart, I had used my work as a facade for faith. My identity was to be a leader, and only a leader. I forgot to strengthen my own spiritual life as I worked to strengthen others. My coping mechanism was to work harder, and without a spiritual mission anymore, I needed to work. My parish supported a L’Arche community in the area and I applied on a whim.
L’Arche is a community of people with and without disabilities who live together. Staff are not working, but rather sharing time. You’re not an aid, rather an assistant. There are no patients or clients; there are core members. Everyone is equal, everyone just shares life together. It was L’Arche that taught me how to live and how to place my identity not in my work, but in God alone.
When sharing time, shifts consist of basic daily living activities: showering, watching TV together, grocery shopping, long drives, coffee shop visits and sharing meals. They have me as a relief assistant. I have been trained for each house and do not have a set schedule. As a relief assistant I am able to pick up shifts at a moments notice at any of the four houses in the community. I love it because in one week I am able to see everyone in the community, I have been able to meet and create relationships with community members that I might not have been able to if I was working in a single home. That being said, the transition to “L’Arche Life” was very difficult in the beginning. I was constantly agitated and would even complain at a lack of tasks to do. I was very uncomfortable with the ordinary. But as my world slowed down, I began to see the beauty in it.
I wasn’t producing anything, or meeting deadlines. My objective was to simply be present. The day-to-day monotony allowed me to see Christ working in the world around me and He revealed Himself in everything. I have started to capture my life in stills: as a lover of photography I’ll notice the shadow of a coffee mug, the color of the flowers in the kitchen, or the cross reflected in the mirror down the hall. I grew incredibly grateful for the 7:00 a.m. kitchen hangouts and long quiet rides to the beach when everyone falls asleep. The greatest thing we have been gifted is life, and He celebrates the day with us.
It was the slowing down and the living that taught me how to see life not as a task, but something never to be taken for granted. This was work out of love for the other, not for gratification or a grade.
One afternoon I had been praying for a way to show the community I was thankful for their welcome and kindness. I had never felt this welcomed before. God answered me with a simple phrase, “the gift of self is enough.” I struggled with this for a bit. This was quiet, and required nothing of me. I put the phrase in the back of my mind, and continued on living.
Later one Sunday I attended Mass with a core member. It was during the breaking of the bread that the phrase came back to me, “the gift of self is enough.”
We both received communion. Christ gave Himself for us. His sacrifice is the ultimate gift. And we all receive communion, together. One bread, One body. I had learned to love and care for complete strangers. As the Father gifts us life, we are gifts to each other.
Handwritten quote from the writer
This is the gift of self. It is knowing whoever is in front of you is given life from the Father, just as you have been. Nothing changes this. No act of merit, or achievement (or lack thereof) influences how the Father sees you.
I am undeserving to know those that I have met, and yet somehow, I do. I realized that I too am a gift from the Father. There is nothing I can do that will make God recognize me or love me any less. I am enough, just as my brothers and sisters in Christ are enough. This love of the Father shines through life, mostly for me in the mundane act of washing the dishes. With a pure heart, nothing you do can be void of love. This was truly how to live. It was being with another, and knowing full well their value, as well as your own. You are good, as He is good. But He is greater, and with full love, provides strength.
In Christ Through Mary,
Lillian
About the Writer: Lillian Alvino is a recent grad of the University of Massachusetts Amherst where she studied public health and political science. Her passion for catholic social teaching has led her to pursue a career in health policy research (ask her about it!). She loves deep theology, liturgical music, and is always down for a spontaneous adventure. She lives north of Boston and is definitely drinking too much espresso.
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Pray about it: Ask the Father to give you a deeper understanding of how He sees you. Place your identity in God, rather than in your accomplishments.
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