A Gift Without Conditions
In my early twenties, I was in more than a few productions of Godspell. If you don’t know it, the musical is structured as a series of parables primarily based on the Gospel of Matthew. It’s one of those musicals that are so ubiquitous and produced so often that directors frequently try to add a funky slant. Sometimes it works—mostly, it doesn’t.
One of my directors had a fantastic plan: I would make up and dress myself to pose as a homeless person begging at the front of the theater for 30 mins. before the show as patrons arrived. Most people were generous and kind. The most touching moment was when a child, about 6, asked his mother if he could buy a slice of pizza for me before going into the theater. She obliged, and he was so proud to share— to present me with a gift that not only nourished my belly but my soul as well.
However, many of the gifts “given” to me came with conditions: “I’ll give you 20 bucks, but I expect you to walk to the corner and use it to get a job!” a lady scolded me. And then there was a well-meaning but condescending patron literally dangling a granola bar in front of my face, which she wouldn’t hand over until I had satisfied her interrogation: all sorts of careless and hurtful questions about what I had done to get myself in this situation.
The opening scene was a bare stage with no set. I sang the first lines of “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.” The loading doors opened to audible gasps. The same homeless person from in front of the theater was pushing his cart onto the stage. And the cast began to wash (“baptize”) me. And we realize that prophets are among us.
It’s become a beautiful tradition to adorn the gifts we give in paper, bows, and other decorations. This Advent and Christmas, my prayer is that we avoid wrapping our gifts with limits and conditions. Jesus came to earth for all and provided the gift of grace, mercy, and salvation without qualification or question. St. Monica continues that gospel when we proclaim, “all are welcome.” When inviting friends and family to celebrate with us, assure them that: we don’t scold, we don’t interrogate—we love.
PS. After each show, anyone who asked for their money back, I returned it— except one night, when I had a insatiable craving for a granola bar.
