Planting the seeds of service, with or without religion.

Last week, I learned that the priest who baptized me had passed away. Fr. Mark DiNardo wasn't someone I knew well. Looking back through old photo albums of my baptismal pictures, there was Father Mark, my parents, and Godparents, all looking so happy (see said picture at right). Baby Margaret on the other hand, well, I can't quite tell how pleased I was about the cold water that was inexplicably being poured on my head. In any case, I was quite saddened by his death, more so than I thought I would be. Maybe that sounds kind of mean or morbid, but like I said, I really didn't know him. He clearly played a pretty significant role in what was arguably one of the biggest moments in my tiny infant life, but that wasn't it. Instead, I think I was upset at his passing, because of what he stood for, what he did in his role as priest outside of the four walls of the church, how he situated himself in his community, how he built up his community, the progressive change that he created in his community, his ability to live a life of service for everyone he interacted with - religious or not; that was the loss I felt with his passing.

This then got me thinking about my own children. I grew up in the Catholic Church, but my husband's family was never really part of any organized religion while he was young. As adults we never attended church and got married in an almost entirely secular ceremony performed in a giant warehouse, so there was no reason for us (or any of our family members for that matter) to think that we would baptize any offspring, and we in fact did not have either of the girls baptized.

No, I'm not having second thoughts about the baptism question (or non-question in our case) now, but I am trying to do more thinking about how to best demonstrate to our girls those characteristics that Father Mark, and many others in my Catholic childhood, embodied. How can we as parents, make sure that our children have a strong moral compass that includes service at due North? One that points the way towards giving of oneself, towards compassion, towards inclusiveness, towards embracing diversity?

Now, some of you might be scratching your heads right now wondering what kind of Catholic upbringing I had that could have possibly taught me some of those very, we'll call them, "unconventional" Catholic teachings? Quite frankly, this is where things start to get a little hairy between me and Catholicism, and really, organized religion on the whole. A lot of what I heard during mass didn't entirely jive with those progressive sentiments that I saw being carried out beyond the church services, beyond the Sunday School lessons, beyond the Vatican directives. So although I'm no longer a card carrying member of any particular religion, going to church every Sunday growing up (at the specific church I did) gave me a perspective on life that wouldn’t have, couldn't have, manifested itself any other way.

Going to a church on West 25th Street, B.G. (that's "Before Gentrification") whose primary mission was/is to serve the community in which it is located, meant that every Sunday when we went down to mass, we got to know the "guys". For a few moments each week our little suburban bubble was broken. One quick glance a the seemingly endless line of homeless men waiting outside the church's rectory in the middle of winter to get a sandwich and a hot cup of soup, and even a child could see what true “need” looked like. We also saw, from a very young age, that we could play a part in meeting or relieving this need. Perhaps just as importantly, the expectation was also set that you would do exactly that; you would make a difference in someone else’s life. Not because you were obligated to, but because it was the "right" thing to do. Volunteering wasn't just a line item on your resume for college. It was just something you did, something everyone did.

Even as I grew away from the Catholic Church I found that this need to serve others stuck with me, and quickly realized that religion wasn't the only way to give back to the community. I became politically active, joined as many non-profit boards as my schedule would allow, and took on a volunteer position with the local newspaper. I built my own community around the values that I held most dearly. Many of my closest friendships, even my marriage, grew out of this community. To this day I can't open up my Facebook feed without hitting at least a few posts about fundraisers or events or volunteer opportunities.

But back to the question of how to instill this core value of "service" in my own children? I learned it from church, but we've chosen not to make organized religion part of our family's equation. So what are my other options?

Well for the moment, the best answer I've got is that they just tag along with mom and dad and try not to sugar coat life too much for them along the way. That list of fundraisers? They just come too and we'll talk, in the simplest terms possible of course, about why we need to raise money for the "kitty cats". My kids come to my board meetings and hang out with the other like minded families' kiddos. They play while we talk about community gardens and improving food access for the refugee population in our city. My hope is that eventually, they may start to catch snippets of what we're discussing and that will open the door for a larger conversation about being good stewards of the earth or how not everyone has enough food to eat every night at dinner time.

Even now, with our oldest at only just 2.5, I try to sneak little lessons in. If we are out on a cold day and she comments on how nice and cozy it is when we come inside, I mention how lucky we are to have a nice warm home. While giving away some baby toys this fall that we don't need anymore, we talked about how not all kids have as many toys as we do, even no toys at all. About a month or so later, entirely unprompted, in the midst of the Santa hysteria that is Christmas with kids, my kid announced to Santa Claus that she didn't want anything at all for Christmas. "Why not," inquired a perplexed Santa? "Me have enough toys. Bring some for Baby Coco," she responded. Cue the beaming mama who proceeded to repeat this story to anyone who would listen for the rest of December (my apologies if you've already heard this story 11 times, but it's one of my favorites).

Maybe all these life lessons seem like a little much, like I'm jading her childhood too soon. But as is often the case, I think we underestimate how much of what we're saying our children actually do understand (outside of the swear words that she has charmingly started parroting). To me what my Santa story suggests, and the reason I will continue to tell it ad nauseum, is that even though we have to ask her to put her shoes on 47 times before we leave the house, she actually is listening to my mini-life lessons, and even better, the message seems to be getting through loud and clear.