by Sue Gamelin

We don’t like leaky things. Diapers, coffee cups, bladders, and roofs aren’t supposed to leak. When they do, we are annoyed, irritated, and sometimes outraged. Friends shouldn’t tell others the things we tell them in confidence. Government officials aren’t supposed to share privileged information with the press. Leaky boats are a particular concern. My daughter says that one day she’ll tell me about the time she was sailing to the Dry Tortugas with some college buddies when — yes, you’ve guessed it. She said something about swimming the last stretch to land. I’m not sure I want to hear the whole story.

But things do leak. Sometimes those leaky things are only annoying. It is annoying when, not just the diapers, but also the jammies and the sheets and the crib pad have to be changed. The day shouldn’t start with the irritation of wiping up coffee from the kitchen floor and the table and our slacks. Anybody out there know the inconvenience of leaky bladders? I’ll bet someone does. Annoying.

But leaking can be more than annoying. I know a congregation that closed down because a horrendously leaking roof couldn’t be fixed after two decades of trying. That is when annoying turns into destructive. Destructive is cancer that metastasizes, a leaked secret that becomes fuel for malicious gossip, and security information that has seeped into the hands of those who use it for evil.

Full–circle blessings
We live in a world of leaks that are sometimes messy and sometimes dangerous. But in this reality, we are called to be leakers of another sort. We are called to be blessing leakers. We are called to leak blessings all over the annoyance of messes and spills. We are called to let holy blessings leak into lives made "holey" by cancer or character assassination or terrorism. We are called to be blessing–leakers for those whose lives seem to be nothing but stories of loss.

God made the role of blessing leaker clear to Abraham. "I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great so that you will be a blessing…. In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed" (Genesis 12:2–3). Jesus made the role of blessing–leaker unmistakable to his disciples: "Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me" (Matthew 25:34b–36).

Disciples bless others. They leak onto others the blessings that they have received from God, pouring them all over the hungry and the thirsty, the stranger and the sick, the poverty–stricken and the prisoner, the weary and the war-torn. And then the blessing comes full circle. The blessed and the blessing–leakers are blessed again when they inherit the new heaven and the new earth God promises. "Woo, woo!" we cry out with joy, along with Fred, who "woo, woos" from the choir loft in our rather dignified congregation when the good news of the Gospel hits him hard.

Blessed encounters
How do we go about leaking blessings? The Bible study for 2007–2008 by Martha Stortz begins with this September issue of Lutheran Woman Today. It is a remarkable guidebook for us as we grow in our role as Jesus’ blessing–leakers. Stortz will leak blessings all over our lives with her study. Watered by her words, we will grow in our discipleship and pour blessings over the lives of others with the river of life that flows from our baptisms into the new Jerusalem. She will remind us again and again, as she does in this session of the Bible study, that "blessings leak, as the blessed become a blessing."

We can learn from Rob, too, about how to be a blessing–leaker.

Rob is a member of Emmanuel Lutheran Church in High Point, North Carolina, where I am blessed to serve. He often travels away from High Point for his job. As he makes his way around whatever town he’s in, Rob has set a terrific goal for himself: Every day, he wants to make at least one person aware that they are valued by him and by God. Rob leaks blessings all over seatmates on the plane, clients, taxi drivers, food servers, bellhops, housecleaning staff, and folks standing with him on a corner waiting for the light to change. He might ask with unusual intention how their day is going. He may wonder about a book that they are reading or ask about signs posted in their cabs. He may give a warm thank-you to someone not used to being noticed. He may be kind to someone who is rude, gentle with someone who is brusque, calm with someone anxious, patient with those who are impatient, helpful to those who are supposed to be, but don’t feel like being, helpful.

One amazing day, Rob ran into another member of our congregation in an airport a thousand miles from her home. He was there on business. She was there because of a call that her mother had had a stroke. When Joni saw Rob, the anxiety and tears she’d been trying to hold inside burst out. She knew that she could trust Rob. She knew that he was someone who blesses others with understanding and kindness. Rob’s surprised smile, warm concern, and gentle hug eased her mind and heart. "What a blessing he was to me," she says even to this day as she remembers that unexpected and blessed encounter.

It’s not about me
We already are blessing–leakers. We hold cups of cold water to the lips of people in hospital and nursing home beds. We wipe babies’ bottoms with all the love and patience we can muster. We hold out our hands to help someone get into a car seat or out of a wheelchair. We teach English to refugees and fill their homes with the things they need for a new beginning. We sit and talk with that person whom people avoid. We wipe away tears, both ours and those of the ones with whom we mourn. We write letters and send e-mails to officials urging them to work for peace and justice for our global community and its environment. We pray and pray and pray and pray. We give and give and give and give. We know how to bless others as we have been blessed. And at the same time, God calls us to expand our role as blessing leakers. We know that we can grow both in our ability and in our willingness to leak blessings, just as the world seems to grow in incidents of danger and harm. Massacres on college campuses and in suburban bedrooms stun and horrify us, wars and rumors of wars rock the world, headlines call our attention to dishonesty among public officials, HIV/AIDS sickens every corner of the world, and the faces of hungry and frightened children break our hearts. We are called to change this world. We are the people we’ve been waiting for!

How do we begin growing in our calling to be blessing-leakers? Above all of our acts of blessing, we must fly a very important banner. That banner makes clear that our actions aren’t about us. They’re not about earning points with God or our neighbors. Blessing–leaking is not about helping out those whom we look down on, the ones who "don’t manage life quite as well as we do." Our banner must read, "It’s not about me! It’s about God." Indeed, "it’s not about me, it’s not about me, it’s not about me" is an important refrain for us to chant every day of our lives. And then we glance up at our banner to find the second half of our daily chant: "It’s about God, it’s about God, it’s about God."

Jesus’ m.o. should be ours
On whom do we leak God’s blessings? We do as Jesus did and as Christ would have us do now, with the Holy Spirit’s power unfurling our banner as we go.

What was Jesus’ modus operandi, his "m.o." as he blessed people? He recognized as brothers and sisters the people he encountered on the dusty roads and in the humble villages. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me," he said poignantly to the blessing–leakers of Matthew 25:34.
I tell the homeless, beaten–down, red–eyed, recovering drug addicts whom I sit with each week at the men’s shelter that we are so much more alike than we are different. They are my brothers. I am their sister. God is the head of our family. I have the joy of leaking all over my brothers the blessed news that God loves us and wants only health and wholeness for us. "We’re all broken," I declare. "We’re all loved. We’re all called to do better — much better. And God will help us."

Chanting, "it’s not about me, it’s about God," we look into the dazed eyes, sullen expressions, and anxious faces of those around us and pray for God’s help in figuring out what kind of blessing will help each particular individual. That’s what Jesus did. He noticed a bent–over woman. He ran into a tearstained widow following in her son’s funeral procession. He spoke wise and discerning words to an angry, rock–bearing crowd and to a disgraced woman. He searched for the hurting one who had touched him. He told the forces of evil to jump over the cliff and into the lake. He peered into the darkness of a blind man.

Jesus fed the hungry, calmed the anxious, loved the children, spoke words of forgiveness to the estranged, and worked to change the power structure of society so that the last are first. Look at those examples of Jesus’ ministry of blessing.

What is remarkable is this: We can do all of these things too. Just as Jesus leaked blessings, so can we, and so can we grow in our blessing–leaking as the world grows in need of it.

God will help us as we grow. God will never let us down. God blesses us. God blesses us to be a blessing. And then the blessed and blessing–leakers are blessed again by life together as God’s family.