This weekend’s lectionary passages are words we have heard many, many times. We hear that everyone has a specific gift, and a contribution to make for the greater good. I would like to look at this from two vantage points: our right to be who we are, and the responsibility that comes with it.

As a music director, I am in relationship with people of all degrees of giftedness – and not all are gifted in ways that involve actual singing. The person who is a deeply compassionate and sensitive listener might not be the same person who steps forward to lead the psalm, or to sing a solo verse while the choir goes to communion. Instead, that person might be uniquely suited to assist families in the planning of their loved one’s funeral music. This is just one example. People know who they are, and they are guided by instincts, whether they are aware of their potential or not. Some people were told not to sing as children by a teacher, sibling, friend, or parent. They were, effectively, humiliated into silence. I hear this from countless men of a certain age (and some women, too). They are convinced that nobody wants them to sing, and that they are therefore off the hook for even considering singing. The person who does this to another human being is just plain wrong. Everyone has a voice. In the great company of the liturgical assembly, everyone sings. Period. The singing body of Christ also has hands and feet and eyes, and each “part” has different gifts to bring.

Whenever my teen singers start slacking off and not showing up, I try to bring them back to the realization that they not only have a right – but also a responsibility – to use the beautiful voice God gave them. Teens can feel that they are invisible in the adult world, and sometimes church looks like that to them. What they do not see is the difference they make when they are there, leading and singing the whole community with joy in their hearts. They bring inexpressible hope and reassurance to people they don’t even know. Sometimes, it can be the only warming ray of hope in a person’s world at a particular point in time. We are here to help each other. To lend a hand up when someone has taken a splat. To bring a giggle to someone who is so caught up in the moment that they can’t even see six inches in front of their nose. To love someone back from feeling invisible. The gift of singing comes with the responsibility to give voice to kindness, joy, beauty, and compassion in places where they are profoundly missing.

It takes courage to admit what and who you are. It takes humility to ask God to help you believe when you are in denial. But once you know, it’s up to you to use it for good.

It’s another way of considering the invitation: you do you.