I have the honor of being part of a volunteer choir at our local Marian shrine. Most of us are not professional musicians, or even very skillful at reading music and sticking to our voice, but we come together in our shared love for Mary, the Mass, and the beauty of sound -- even if we ourselves have to settle for rather less than truly beautiful a lot of Sundays.
(By the way, if you haven't read Pope Leo's reflection for those who make music at Mass, don't miss it!)
One of our group, though, is a truly talented professional musician (as well as being the youngest member of our crowd). He had the honor of being part of our local boys choir not too many years ago, so he grew up learning instruments, Gregorian chant, and the intricacies of listening carefully, and combining voices in the art of choir singing.
He's usually our organist (he has perfect pitch so he can always find Father's note on the organ!) but last Sunday, we suddenly saw him at the lectern, instead of up on the loft, because lo and behold, he was slated to sing the Psalm.
My soprano section exchanged excited glances as soon as the first notes sounded -- what a clear, beautiful voice! Our master at the organ is also a vocalist!
Afterward, many of us took to our group chat to praise him and his parents (who also sing with us, in the bass and alto sections).
After much gushing from all of us, the musician himself chimed in, with one simple line: "Thank you. I do what I can with what I have."
His answer really struck me. What humility! What a sense of our mission to be stewards of the gifts God gives us. It was like a real-life example of how to live the parable of the men who invested their talents, and the sad guy who buried his and got a rebuke.
I responded to his message to say that his words are something to take to prayer -- and I have been.
Did you hear?
Some days later, God confirmed this message through another experience, as he often does with me.
I found out that an old friend I'd lost contact with many years ago has passed away. Apparently she'd been battling cancer for the last several years, and shortly after Christmas, made her move to the Father's House.
Her obituary was brief but it shared an interesting detail: her favorite Bible verse.
When they quoted it, I had to turn to my Bible, thinking, "That's really what it says?" And yes, indeed.
"She has done what she could."
It's from Mark 14, and refers to the woman who anointed Jesus' feet with costly ointment at Bethany. In fact, it's Jesus' own description of her.
"She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial." (Mark 14:8)
The sentiment is very similar to my organist's: "I do what I can with what I have." She has done what she could with what she had.
It's an invitation to avoid complication, live in simplicity, give what you can each day -- aware that some days the moods or the finances or the bickering children or the marital stress will keep you from giving much at all -- but accepting that with humility. And giving anyway. Jesus praises that!
Pope's thoughts
As I prepare to print out this Scripture with a pretty font for my bathroom mirror (and ask my friend now in Eternity to help me live it!), I saw that God wanted to make sure I was really taking it in.
Just this week, Pope Leo received in audience a group of pilgrims from Spain, who belong to a parish named for one of his fellow Augustinians, St. Thomas of Villanueva (in English, we translate it Villanova, hence the name of the university the future Leo attended).
Speaking about this saint, Pope Leo noted his "industriousness."
He said (emphasis mine):
This facet of his life challenges us in a world that seems to offer us everything in an increasingly rapid, easy manner. His sobriety and simplicity, his selfless work — especially in the university setting — and his apostolic zeal lead us to realize that we must recognize the talents we have received and put them at the service of the community, with effort and dedication, so that they may multiply for the benefit of all.
It's again the same lesson. Just do what you can with what you have, what you have been given. Take your talents and invest them as best you can each day, with the humility to recognize that sometimes the investment will have little return or none at all. Just do what you can.
Pope Leo has taken to heart this lesson from St. Thomas Villanueva, it seems, because it's not the first time he has expressed a similar idea.
In Dilexi Te, he said: "It is always better at least to do something rather than nothing."
He was speaking about almsgiving, and admits we won't solve all the problems by giving our little bit, but, he seems to suggest, we will be doing what God asks. We'll be investing our talents, instead of burying them. We'll be anointing Jesus' feet with our fidelity.
He said:
It is always better at least to do something rather than nothing. Whatever form it may take, almsgiving will touch and soften our hardened hearts. It will not solve the problem of world poverty, yet it must still be carried out, with intelligence, diligence, and social responsibility.
So for 2026, it seems the invitation for me is clear. In simplicity and with perseverance: Do what I can with what I have.
