Every Sunday — and at more diocesan gatherings than most of us realize — The Rev. Linda Mahler, deacon at The Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd in Silver Spring, arrives in her scooter or wheelchair, navigating sidewalks, ramps, curbs, and buildings not designed with her in mind. She relies almost entirely on public transportation to get where she needs to be, often adding layers of uncertainty, waiting, and patience that many of us never have to consider.
And yet, she shows up.
She shows up in her parish, where her presence at the liturgy is steady and joyful.
She shows up in diocesan life, taking her place among her colleagues with quiet conviction.
She shows up even when it requires trusting the community to assist her — sometimes quite literally — up and down stairs and across thresholds that are anything but accessible.
Her ministry is not loud or showy. It is the simple, courageous act of being present.
As Deacon Linda describes it, “Every time we show up, we give the Holy Spirit more to work with. Being present with others is the foundation for every other kind of ministry we do.”
And in her presence, we witness a powerful truth: discipleship is rarely about ease or convenience. It is about willingness. It is about showing up for God’s people even when it costs time, energy, humility, and trust. Linda allows the Body of Christ to be what it is meant to be — a community that shares strength, offers help, and receives it in turn.
Her example prompts us to remember that the heart of ministry is not perfection, polish, or efficiency.
- It is presence.
- It is commitment.
- It is the steady, faithful choice to be there — however we are able, however we come.
And in these weeks after Epiphany — a season of light, revelation, and the unfolding of God’s presence in ordinary places — Linda’s witness offers us a gentle but compelling reminder. Discipleship is illuminated not only in grand gestures or dramatic changes, but in the steady beams of faithfulness that guide us day by day.
Her life encourages us to pay attention to the quiet ways God is made known among us:
in courage that doesn’t announce itself,
in presence that doesn’t seek recognition,
in the communal grace that emerges when we rely on one another.
As we move deeper into this new year, may her example invite us to consider how we, too, might “show up” — for our communities, our parishes, our neighbors, and for the work God entrusts to us. Not perfectly, not effortlessly, but faithfully.
Because often the holiest thing we can offer is the gift of our presence.