“Action without a name, a "who" attached to it, is meaningless.” ~Andrea Yerger
Abby looked on as her mother carefully sliced off each of the ends of the beef roast. The roast had been marinating most of the day and was now ready for the oven. Abby’s mother nestled the hefty piece of beef into a roasting pan. Plucking the two “ends” from the cutting board she carefully placed them, one on each side, of the roast. “Why do you do that?” Abigail asked. “Do what?” her mother responded, placing the lid on the roasting pan and popping the roaster into the oven.
“You always cut the ends off the roast and stick them on the sides. Why do you do that?” My mother, your Grandma, always did it that way?” she answered absent-mindedly. “But why did she do it that way?” Abby persisted. “I don’t know,” her mother said finally. “Let’s ask her.”
Abby’s mother touched the screen of her Smartphone several times then placed it on the counter. The speaker magnified the sound of the ring; then a click sound. “Hello, Wilson residence.”
“Hi Mom,” Abby’s mother started to say, only to be drowned out by Abby, “HI GRANDMA!” she shouted. “Hi, honey,” replied the voice on the other end. “Grandma, we have a question. Why do you cut the ends off the roast?” There was a pause. “What do you mean, honey?” came the voice. “Mom, when you cooked a beef roast you always cut the ends off and put them on the sides before you put it in the oven… Why did you do that?”
Again there was a pause. “I don’t know exactly,” she replied finally. “My mother always did it that way.” “How can we find out?” asked Abby’s mother. “Well, we could drive up to the ‘home’ and ask Great Grandma Wilson. We’re overdue for a visit.” They all agreed to go that weekend. A departure time was arranged. Then Abby’s mother clicked off.
They found Great Grandma Wilson seated in her wheel chair facing the expansive east window in the “green room.” The vista she looked out upon featured lush, wooded mountains, blue skies and puffy white clouds. She loved to sit in the sun, allowing the warmth to embrace her achy joints. Though physically bowed by age, her body wracked with arthritis, her mind was still clear as a bell.
Abby, was the first to reach her great grandma, with the other two women close behind. They all chattered their greetings almost simultaneously, asking and answering a variety of questions. Finally, they wheeled the old woman to a quiet corner. They seated themselves on a sofa, facing Great Grandma, in preparation for the question they had come to ask.
Abby’s mother leaned forward: “Grandmother,” she began. “We have a question.” “Well what is it?” replied Great Grandma. “At my age I don’t have many secrets left,” she chuckled.
“Grandmother,” she began again. “Do you remember, when you used to make your famous beef roast, how you cut the ends off?” “Of course I remember,” she answered. “And then you would take the ends and put them on the sides of the roast in the roaster?” “Yup, I remember,” she replied again, seemingly a little perplexed.
Abby’s mother leaned in even farther. “Why did you do that?” Abby, her mother and grandmother waited expectedly for Great Grandmother Wilson’s reply. “Why did I do that?” she echoed. “You drove all this way to ask why I cut the ends off the roast and put them on the sides of the roast in the pan?” The women nodded a response.
She mused for a moment. “OK, I’ll tell you,” Great Grandma replied thoughtfully. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” They all nodded agreement. The old woman leaned forward and hushed her voice. “The reason I did that was a very good one.” They leaned closer as her voice got quieter. She looked around to make sure no one else could hear her. “The reason I did that was simple... The reason I did that,” (she paused for a very long time) “was because” (another long pause) “my roasting pan was too small.” A moment later they burst into laughter.
Activity without context is simply empty action. It is what some call “just going through the motions.” We automatically, sometimes robotically, go through our day – kissing our loved ones goodbye, greeting or thanking one another, performing various formalities and informalities without connecting those activities to something meaningful.
Abby asked the right question: “Why do you do that?”
David, one of my Jewish friends, greets me by kissing me on the cheek. I once asked him why he did that. “I shake the hand of many I do not know or care about, even some I might consider enemies, but only a good friend would I kiss on the cheek,” was his response.
(Note to self: as a practicing Catholic I make a lot of gestures in church – kneeling, bowing, crossing myself. Why do I do that? If I know why, should I not make those gestures as if I knew why?)
If it were the last time, would you say goodbye to your loved ones differently? It might be the last! If it were your last cup of coffee, would you thank the barista differently? It might be your last cup of coffee! When you greet your friends, if they really are your friends, and it were the last time, like David, would you greet them differently? It might be the last time!
Being good stewards of our time, it is important that we fill our lives with meaningful activity. This does not mean we should discontinue our current activities. In some cases, the roasting pan is too small and the ends of the roast do need to be cut off! What it does mean, is we need to discover for ourselves why we do the things we do and in turn behave as if we know why.
If I truly love someone, should I not behave as such when I greet them or when I say goodbye to them? By doing so, we will approach our lives with a new sincerity, realizing that our gestures need not, should not, be empty. If we fill our daily activities with meaning, the corresponding responses will no doubt surprise us.
Dear God: Remind me I am responsible for giving meaning to what I do.
“So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important… The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others…” ~Morrie Schwartz (Sociology professor and author, subject of the book Tuesday’s with Morrie (1916-1995)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by James E. Carper, Director of Development for Southeast Ventura County YMCA. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
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