Some people are worth an encore. That’s the way I feel about Nancy and George Mairs, who were the focus of my previous column. Hearing them talk further has prompted me to share more of their experience and their thinking in the hope readers will find inspiration in both.
Before flying back to their home in Tucson, this spiritually dynamic couple talked about what they call “the activist demands of faith.” They thus gave expression to what they believe to be the requirements prompted by their Christian beliefs.
Joining the discussion on this occasion was their son, Matthew Mairs, who lives in New York City but who came to see his parents during their East Coast visit. Though he shares many of his parents’ values, Matthew modestly says of his own earlier social action: “I didn’t have the guts my parents had.”
There is no disputing that they indeed have guts. Needing help with almost all the activities of daily life and requiring a wheelchair for mobility, Nancy still reaches out to others. George devotes much of his time to assisting Nancy; he has had a life-threatening bout with melanoma; he also makes it a priority to stay involved with others who need help.
George and Nancy ask themselves: how can a person use his or her gifts to make a difference in the world? This is a question asked by many spiritual seekers who want to respond but often feel overwhelmed and do not know what action to take.
In response, Nancy admits being daunted because the world is in such need. As the world’s population grows larger, the number of people in dire need increases, putting potential volunteers in a quandary.
Speaking practically, Nancy says: “My first recommendation is this ― think small.” Instead of trying to fix the whole world, Nancy suggests doing something specific on a regular basis.
What she and George do is visit a nursing home, once a week. During this visit they see only two people but talking with these people takes the entire hour.
They are both convinced that what they do makes a difference. “It does matter that we do it,” says Nancy. “it does not matter that we don’t prevail.”
In visiting the nursing home residents, George senses himself to be part of a faith-inspired activism that is happening all over the world. About the effects of this experience on himself, he says: “This makes me feel healthy and whole.”
This activity also promotes in Nancy and George a sense of peace. It comes in part from integrating their activities. Alluding to his retirement from teaching, George says: “Now I’m more relaxed because I now have time for caregiving.”
Nancy also sees peace as flowing from an acceptance of death. She recognizes the subject as off-putting for a whole lot of people. For her, however: “I know I’m going to die. After that, you’re free.”
They know first-hand the temptation to allow caregiving and being taken care of to dominate their outlook. If allowed full sway, the need to give and receive the care that makes Nancy’s life possible can eat up concern for anyone else.
To their great credit, George and Nancy do not permit themselves to focus only on their own needs, pressing as those needs remain.
The faith that is expressed in the Eucharist drives them on. That this sacrament has been celebrated in their house has changed their feelings about where they live. “It feels like a sacred space,” says Nancy about their home.
And the community of people with whom they celebrate their weekly house Mass means much to them. That is a source of their drive to reach out to others.
Besides the nursing home visit and the other actions in which she and George take part, Nancy regards her writing as a form of ministry. She calls her books “a critical, but not a commercial success.” It feels good to see reviewers praising her work but it does not produce much income. More important, however she values them as a sharing of spiritual insights and experiences with her readers.
My current reading of her latest book, “A Troubled Guest: Life and Death Stories,” has made me appreciate more this ministry of hers.
Richard Griffin