The Power of Unction

From last summer:

I was reassured once again, tonight, that God has a sense of humor. And that sometimes that still small voice disappears and becomes that loud, large roar. I have less than two days left at Kanuga Conference Center in North Carolina. I have been working with ninety-eight youth from all over the country during Kanuga’s annual youth week. Tonight has been the highlight of the week as we concluded with a healing service and the sacrament of unction.

I have a nasty habit of judging people. Sometimes I have the tendency to look for people’s negative qualities well before I look for the Christ-light that resides in everyone. We all are the children of God, yet sometimes I forget that and look for those qualities which bother me and get under my skin. There is someone here at this conference, who I will call Steve, and I often look for those negative qualities in him. Steve is a wonderful person who clearly radiates that Christ-light, yet for some reason I close my eyes and see only what I want to see. Although Steve and I have been working well together this week, I often feel on thin ice when I am around him.

During the healing service, as our Chaplain sat alone, I approached Rebecca to ask her to pray for me. I asked to be forgiven and for God to help release those judgmental qualities that I often possess behind the walls of my mind. Rebecca made the sign of the cross on my forehead with oil and as she prayed with me my head went numb. Never in my life have I felt such a strong presence of the Holy Spirit. A few tears appeared as Rebecca finished praying and when I stood up, Steve was right there. Steve was standing right behind me with his arms outstretched to give me a hug. He had no clue what I was praying for but God did. And God made it very clear to me that it was my turn to let my demons go.

A Soup Kitchen Experience

I had the privilege of preparing and serving dinner at a local soup kitchen this weekend with the youth confirmation class from my church. I wouldn’t be surprised if many of the young people had trouble finding anything in common with the people whom they were serving. Honestly, this is probably a fault that I am guilty of many times as well. When I am stopped and asked for money, I often find myself distrusting and reluctant to share the wealth I have because I struggle to see the poor, the homeless, and the less fortunate as equals.

There was a woman at dinner that reminded me of the lady who ran the dry cleaners around the corner from where I grew up. As I was becoming overwhelmed at seeing this lady, who I thought had been so kind to my sister and me growing up, I decided to find out this woman’s story. Although this woman bore a striking resemblance to the woman from my childhood, she had a different story. She had been married to a clergyman before spending the last several years on the street. She has since found a safer and more suitable place to live.

I have been finding this reality slightly haunting, possibly because I work with several clergy men and women and their families, or maybe because I know a little bit about the woman from the soup kitchens story. If a clergyman’s wife could end up homeless, than a youth minister certainly could. I believe as Christians we are called to work with the poor, the homeless, and those who suffer. However, if we place people into categories by labeling them poor, homeless, or suffering, we can become subject to never seeing them as equals. Sunday reminded me that we are all equal regardless of the clothes we wear, the homes we live in, or if we are serving or being served.