Caring for One Another

Grampa leads the youngest cooks in making Cranberry Sauce

I have this clear memory from when I was maybe 11 years old, of being at my friend’s house just before mealtime and everyone was pitching in- setting the table and all those things you do as mealtime draws near. I knew I should be helping -- my parents often rolled their eyes at me over the years saying “why are you just standing there and not helping” -- but I just had no clear idea what needed to be done and how I could help, or even where the plates were kept in this strange kitchen. I carried that feeling with me for many years, that “helping” was something everyone had figured out except me.

As I watched my son growing up, I’ve seen him get better and better at helping – how to hold a door open, how to set the table. This year at Thanksgiving he knew without anyone telling him that you have to make the cranberry sauce early in the day before the kitchen gets too busy and he asked when we were aiming to serve dinner so the Mashed potatoes would be warm. It was such a gift to know those parts of the meal were taken care of, and I cherish the sweet memories of 15 Thanksgivings of mentoring with the cooking team it took to get there.

I understand as a middle-aged person what my 11 year old self didn’t, that learning how to lend a hand takes time and experience. As last month’s potluck seemed to magically assemble itself, folks having arrived early to set up tables and gather food, we chatted about how the skills of potlucking transfer from one congregation to another. How even if you’ve never potlucked with a particular community before, and don’t know where they keep their fold up tables or how to run the dishwasher, you know everything needs to go back to the kitchen at the end, and someone’s going to have to get the crumbs off the floor.

Likewise, once you have been a parent, or cared for a baby, you glance at a fussy baby and exhausted parent and realize it might be helpful to offer “would you like me to take the baby for a bit?” And then feel confident parent hands the child to you. I was a religious educator for 3 years before I had my son nick, but after attending church with a little one in tow I suddenly saw with new eyes how we could be more supportive to parents of young children, noticing obvious oversites like the total lack of highchairs, or failing to consider bedtimes when scheduling meetings to name a couple.

Helping is a skill that evolves and gets better with time and experience. One of the silver linings of our own struggles is that we know what helped us when we needed help. I was able to help a friend jump start his car because my friend’s dad had taught me back when I was a teenager driving an ancient car with a tired old battery. There are things you know, each of you, because of what you’ve been through. You know what helped you, or the help you needed but didn’t get, or the supposedly helpful things people tried that were no help at all.

Even if you don’t have any idea how to set up for a potluck, or visit a friend in the hospital, I would like this congregation to a place where we learn from one another about what helps. I chose today’s story because it says something important about what we, as a church community, can offer one another. It’s hard when we can’t fix what’s broken -- it hurts us so much to see a friend in need, but as the little girl in the story told her friends, what she most wanted from them was help with her loneliness. We should try not to let our inexperience and fear of getting it wrong keep us from doing the most important thing we can do- which is extending our care to one another.

Even in the everyday work of the church, I am always touched when someone asks “can I give you a hand with that?” there is something so reassuring, even if you say “no thanks, I’ve got it” to know that you are part of a web of support. In his book The Body Keeps The Score Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk explains that social support makes a surprising difference in how we recover from the hard moments of our lives. “Whenever we feel threatened, we instinctively turn to …, social engagement. We call out for help, support and comfort from the people around us. But if no one comes to our aid, or we’re in immediate danger, the organism reverts to a more primitive way to survive, fight or flight.” [p. 82] ”When something distressing happens, we automatically signal our upset in our facial expressions and tone of voice, changes meant to beckon others to come to our assistance. However, if no one responds to our call for help, the threat increases, and the older limbic brain jumps in… mobilizing muscles, heart and lungs for fight or flight.” [p. 84]”

This is wired deep within us- when we feel connected to social support, our nervous systems can relax and go about the work or the healing that needs to be done. If we feel disconnected from social support, our nervous system cranks it up a notch, we end up in a fight or flight response.

As a congregation that serves lovingly, we try to strengthen that interconnected web of social support that connects us all. Like in today’s story, certain suffering is beyond our capacity to fix or resolve, but we do the things we can do to help one another feel supported, feel connected. My friends were in marriage counseling a few years back and when one would do something for the other their therapist would ask “and did you receive that as love?” When someone offers to feed your cats while you are in the hospital or on vacation, it’s not just a practical help, it is a reminder of the love that holds us all.

A couple of concrete tips for showing our care for one another. It is always lovely to ask “can I give you a hand with that?” By asking, the other person can consent, can receive it or decline. Sometimes when we are not doing well, we just don’t even know what we need, so it’s often good practice to offer specific things- Can I give you a ride to the doctor? Do you need me to pick up some groceries for you? The other nice thing about making a concrete offer is that then we can be clear about what we are able to give. Because of course there is no limit to the help the world needs, so we must discern inside ourselves what we are able to give, what we specifically feel called to give.

In the Athens congregation at least 10 years ago we started something called the “caring circle”- it’s really just an email list of folks who want to know when other members are going through something hard or might need some help. When a beloved member had a stroke years ago, it was through this caring circle that we were able to let each other know she was in the hospital, and concrete things like room number, how she was doing, when visitors were allowed, and who had visited when (we were noticing that many of our hospitalized members got a slew of visitors after church Sunday, more visitors than a sick person should really have, and then no visitors during the week). Those who had more experience with hospital visits and strokes were able to offer concrete suggestions to those of us who weren’t quite sure what we could do. Being part of the caring circle doesn’t obligate anyone to do anything, we invite each person to discern for themselves what they are willing and able to give, as part of the wider web of community.

We came up with a little handout, a little script for when you reach out to someone for the first time:

• How are you, what’s going on?
• Is it okay if I tell the minister?
• Is it okay if I tell the caring circle?
• Can I share it at Joys and concerns?
• Would you like: 
• Calls?
• Visits?
• Meals?
• Rides?
• Any other way we could help?
• Does your partner or family need any support? If so what is their name and contact information?

A few years back, we had a conversation after church “how can I help” and we talked about what was helpful and not helpful. One member offered that what she most liked when she was in the hospital was to receive a nice plant to cheer her room. We went around the circle, and soon one person shared “If I am in the hospital, please don’t bring me a plant.” We had a good laugh. Some folks feel better knowing their congregation is aware they have a big surgery coming up, other folks are very private, and prefer not to share until the worst is past. One person shared that she liked to hear people’s messages on her voice mail, but also appreciated one who said “you don’t have to call me back” because she was feeling the weight of having to keep up with all the people reaching out.

What has been helpful to you? What do you wish your helpers had known?

One of the things I have always loved about both our churches is the way people pitch in and help. When our beloved Jason died this summer, the Cortland congregation jumped into action and put on memorials and a lunch without even being asked. We knew people would need a place to gather and support one another, we knew the healing properties of both worship and food. Consider the Goodie Bags we delivered during the times of Covid Isolation- these clearly provide no concrete help but folks tell us when they received our goodie bags, that gesture of connection helped them feel loved and connected.

There are many times in our lives when we could use a hand- When you are sick at home, or in the hospital. When a loved one has died. When you are moving. When your car breaks down. When you are between jobs. When you just have too many things in your hands and need help opening a door. As a congregation committed to “serving lovingly” we keep an eye out for these moments when folks could use a hand. Our goal is not to meet every need- it’s humanly impossible. We help one another so that we remember we are not alone, that we are supported by a web of community and of life. Giving or receiving a helping hand reminds us we are part of something larger than ourselves, a love that holds us all.