"But for the Grace of God..."

A week ago, Victoria came into Pittsburgh with the pro-life ministry.  She and I were running behind the rest of the group, so we approached the abortion facility alone, two young women walking down the sidewalk... so it was understandable when the "Pro-Choice Escorts," in their bright yellow vests, asked us if we were here for the clinic.  Before we had to answer, one of the other escorts pulled them away.  I've been in the situation before when, as I approach an abortion facility to pray, someone tries to talk me out of having an abortion, but I've never gotten it from the pro-choice side.

Earlier that week, I was in downtown Steubenville with the homeless ministry, chatting with a couple guys outside the shelter.  Another student, whom I didn't know very well, came out and began to introduce herself around, chatting up the crowd.  She, like a lot of us in the ministry (I pray to combat this in my own self), had the tone and inflection of charity in her voice as she asked me my name and if I was from around here.  It was clear that she didn't realize I had come in with the college crowd.  I laughed inside when it happened, but later caught myself thinking, Why did she think that?  Do I look too old to be at school? Do I look homeless?  What about me made me look homeless?  Why did she think I was homeless? 

The next week, I made a similar faux-pas at the Unity Kitchen, a food ministry downtown.  I sat at a table where a woman my age-ish was sitting alone and started chatting.  She very quickly assured me that she worked for a job evaluation agency and she was here observing someone, not to benefit from the services of the Unity Kitchen.  Her Lunchables gave proof of this.  

These three incidents stuck with me.  There's a country song (I like this version better) that comes from, I believe, an old saying, "But for the grace of God go I."  Recently, CVN had a video contest to answer the question : "Why do you serve?"  This line is a common answer to that question.  "I serve because not everyone has the blessings that I have.  Because, but for the luck of my birth, there go I."  

It is a beautiful, generous sentiment, but I think it misses the mark.  If I look into the eyes of another person and see what I could be, I lose something.  We should look into the eyes of another and see what we are.  (Not who we are, a unique and unrepeatable person, but what we are, a child of God, created in his image and likeness, with infinite value and worth.)  In that glimpse, when the eyes of another mirror the image of God in me, I come one step closer to understanding the way in which we are all one -- as John Donne put it, the way in which "no man is an island... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."

This truth issues to us an incredible challenge, and, as my discomfort with these situations shows, I am far from rising to it.  But when it boils down to it, that is the reason to serve (and, on my good days, why I serve): not so much because others lack what I have, but because others have what I have -- the imprint of God in their very being and an indelible connection to the rest of humanity.