CALLED TO SERVE

BROTHER DAVID HIRT, OFM Cap

Brothers Dismas Seward and David Hirt enjoy a visit.

There is a whole generation of religious out there who have been moving their feet their whole lives. They were taught that moving their feet was the most important thing and maybe the only thing that counted. Now that they are retired, their bodies are no longer capable of moving the way they once did.

This summer I am living and working with some of those religious: my brothers among the Capuchins. There are no bells or whistles. I’m not out changing the world. Occasionally I mow the lawn or paint a garage door or go shopping, but what I do mostly is be present.

I sit and listen to their stories and tell my own when they ask because they are just as interested in me and discovering who it is inheriting the Order they have helped create. I play contract rummy in the evening, build puzzles with one of my brothers, and do art projects with others as they discover the hobbies they were discouraged from having in their younger days because idleness was sinfulness and work was holy.

I visit them in the nursing home to remind them that the Order is still thriving and that they are not forgotten or unloved; that they are in many ways the heroes the younger of us look to for inspiration and the knowledge that “Yes,” this life can really be lived and committed to. I see to their little needs such as bringing them horehound lozenges or mini chocolate bars. I comfort some when they remember the horrors of war-time chaplaincy or sit in the hospital room with them when they are especially sick.

Sometimes you don’t have to say anything but just be there. It’s difficult to “do” so little. When one enters religious life, one expects to go out and change the world, maybe to save someone. Visions of soup kitchens, teaching, parish-priesthood or missionary work in foreign countries are common, but I’m discovering that sometimes moving your feet means sitting still.