PLEASE TELL YOU FRIENDS

The patient is unable to speak for herself.  You sit devotedly by her bedside in the hospital.  Four hours and forty minutes ago the doctor, after first expressing his sympathy, informs you that he believes that she only has 5 hours to live.  

You have been devoted throughout this long sickness, making sure that the best of care has been given.  It wasn’t as though this was an accident and everything moved so quickly.  And now you are coming up on the end of your duties.  Carefully you gaze at you watch.  In five more minutes it will be time to call the priest to get him here right at the end of her life.

Except that it is Saturday afternoon.  You are calling the third parish.  The secretary at each place apologizes profusely but the priest has gone over for the vigil Mass.  “I will try to catch him as soon as he gets back,” she offers.

This may sound a bit silly but it happened twice this last month.  When we had so many priests that they were coming out of our ears and some were standing around on Saturday afternoon with nothing to do, this might have worked out well.  In fact, there may have been a priest assigned to the hospital full time.  But not so today.  

Imminent death has not been a condition for the anointing of the sick since the council of Trent.  Vatican II changed the name from extreme unction to anointing of the sick to try to get this point across more clearly.  To avoid the above scenario, consider having the anointing done when it is needed for the comfort of the sick or terminal patient.  There is the possibility for a much happier ending to this story if a call is made to the rectory and it is said, “The doctors don’t think she’ll live out the week” rather than, “They don’t give her past the next hour or so.”

Please tell you family and friends.

MONDAY DIARY: ALMOST EXCRUSIATINGLY TRUE STORIES: GROWING UP INTO AN ADULT PRIEST

Temptation is a loyal mistress.  She is always there at your beck and call.  She will support you at all costs, give any excuse for you, and if she is in a really good mood, will provide you ample justification for any decision you should make.  She flirts heavily but she is also fickle.  She temps wildly but if you give in to her, she often slaps you on the cheek for being such an easy mark.

 

Like one of the Sirens of Greek mythology she came tapping at my door last Sunday.  As you may recall, last Sunday was Mother's Day.  We had just finished up all of our Masses, baptisms, meetings, and donuts, and I went to go lock up the church.  Everyone had deserted the parish to spend time with Moms.  My Mom spending Mother's Day in heaven it seemed like a great opportunity to find Sunday rest.  Shedding formal clothes this wonderful late afternoon was to begin with a nap.

 

I had left a book I was reading downstairs and wanted to get it in order to fall asleep with it.  Walking into my office I saw a strange sight: my message light on my phone was blinking. 

It takes a lot for a message to get through to my phone on a Sunday.  Somebody really, really wanted to get through to me.  They didn't leave a message on the parish phone, they didn't call the emergency line, they wanted me.  At 5:00.  On Sunday.  That happened to be Mother's Day.

 

*sigh*

 

That's when temptation hit.

Fortunately my Guardian Angel was more convincing than the Siren.  It was unfair bringing my Mother into the mix, but I understand.  You gotta do what you gotta do.

 

Returning to my grade school age petulance I jabbed at the buttons (despite my drawing of a rotary phone) and waited impatiently for the message to come up. 

 

"Please enter your code."

 

jab jab jab

 

To listen to your messages press 2.  (Why 2???)

 

jab

 

You have one message.  To listen to your new messages press 3.

 

jab

 

The following message was sent to you on Sunday, May 11th at 5:00PM

 

"O FOR THE LOVE OF PETE JUST GIVE ME MY STINKING MESSAGE!"

 

As it turns out, there was an elderly person at the hospital who had never been baptized.  The prognosis was not good and it seemed that sacrament had to take place that day or perhaps not at all.  Returning the call it turned out that I was the only priest in north east Ohio available before night fall. 

 

I would like to say that I cheerily hopped in my car and went right over.  I would like to, but it would be a lie.  Grumpily I trudged upstairs and redressed in my clerics, stomped over to the church to get all the things I would need for the expedited initiation rites, and back to the car where I slammed the door.

 

In the driveway my guardian angel slapped my upside the head.  Did I not have any idea what an awesome thing this was?  Did I have no idea what an honor this was?  Did I have any idea how eternity would change for this person?  Was there no understanding of what a great responsibility this was?  Do you remember why you became a priest?!  (For most men, this would have been the role of his wife as she pushed her husband out the door.  I must rely on my guardian angel.)

 

I took a deep breath and my mood lifted considerably.  What it boiled down to was having to change plans.  I am not good at that.  Change restaurants locations half way to the place decided and I will silently grumble having prepared myself for a particular place already.  Now that this WAS the plan, it was even kind of exciting thinking about what was about to take place.

 

But wait, there's more:  On the way someone called on my cell to say that another parishioner was in the same hospital and could a pray for that person.  "Better than that!  I'm on my way there!  I will visit!"

 

How come it is, when you follow God's, things just seem to turn out better?

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: FANTASIZING ABOUT REALITY

 (Continuing Lumen Gentium)

Why are shows such as Game of Thrones (despite the acres of skin that is shows – really – I think I can get the point without so much detail – I’m a celibate, not dense) or Harry Potter so popular?  There is something about sacrificing for some greater good.  There is something about being born of noble birth or attaining a noble position.  To quote Shakespeare, “Some people are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”  (Twelfth Night.)  It is a great fantasy right?  The Church says it is not a fantasy but a reality.  It is just difficult to see in this life.

 

(Paragraph 11)  We (you) are incorporated into a kingly, prophetic, and priestly family through baptism.  In it you are reborn and are now sons and daughters of The King.  This life is brought into operation through the power of the sacraments and through the exercise of virtue.  And unlike many royal families, the object is not to insulate and protect ourselves from upstarts who want to infiltrate the family but to boldly go out and announce to others the story and how they may be a part of it.  Dissimilar from earthly royal families we do not gain strength and distinction from exclusivity but through a great invitation to all to go through the initiation and the living of the life of this “people set apart.”

 

Our greatest unity comes about when each of us, performing our own role, participate in the Eucharistic liturgy.  In Penance we reconcile this great family.  In the anointing of the sick we pray for healing and encourage our ill brothers and sisters to redemptive suffering.  Those with Holy Orders strengthen the family for their labors and married persons live out radically the unity that we are to achieve with each other, encouraging each other to holiness, and build up the body of the Church with their young.  With so many witnesses, so many different states, we are called to build each other up toward perfection as our Father is perfect.

 

(Wow.  What a paragraph.)

I DO - ONCE

My parents celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary shortly after I was ordained.  As part of the celebrations I asked my parents if they wanted to re-exchange their wedding vows.  Mom, who was fairly open to anything, gave her one adamant answer to all of the questions we asked:  “NO!”  She explained, “I gave my vows once and I meant it.”  (That's their wedding picture to the right at the old Sacred Heart parish.)

 

Concerning the priesthood I have the same theory as my Mother but not the practice.  Every year in Holy Week all the priests of a diocese who can make it gather with the bishop to celebrate the Chrism Mass.  It is the one time of year that the priesthood is officially celebrated.  The bishop’s homily, speaking to his sons, is given directly to or about priesthood.  And then, as when all Catholics are asked to restate their baptismal vows at Easter, priests are asked to reaffirm their vows.  As the bishop asks “Are you resolved . . .” the entire cathedral rings out with a resounding, “I AM!” from your priests.

 

Also at this mass, the sacred oils used in the entire diocese the upcoming year are blessed.  Each parish has properly disposed of their oils either by burying them or burning them, cleaned and prepared the containers for the oils which are called stocks, and then they bring them to the cathedral this day to have them refilled with the new oils.  These are the oils used for the sick, for those preparing for baptism, and the sacred Chrism used for baptism, confirmation, and priesthood as well as certain other uses.

 

The place where your oils are kept at your parish is called the ambry.  Sometimes they are in very public places with glass doors, and sometimes they are hidden away in the sacristy.  But if you lay your eyes on it, know the journey that those oils took and the celebration that was had so that they might be available for use in your parish.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: HOW TO DIE

Part of the problem of telling people how to die is that they don’t want to talk about it until it is painfully obvious that they or someone with whom they are close are about to.  But it is handy information to have in your hip pocket.  Nobody likes to take up research on the topic when death is a few heart beats away. 

 

Here is one of the most important things you should know:

Imminent death is not a prerequisite for the sacrament of anointing of the sick.

Imminent death is not a prerequisite for the sacrament of anointing of the sick.

Imminent death is not a prerequisite for the sacrament of anointing of the sick.

 

(I heard on the radio yesterday that if you say something three times people are more likely to hear and remember it.)

 

I have this image in my head of certain personages, otherwise holy, intelligent, good people standing next to a hospital bed with a stop watch and counting down the seconds.  “…three, …two…ONE!  We are down to two hours of life for Aunt Maybell!  Call the priest!  Call the priest!  Tell him to get out here NOW!”

 

At least that is the way it appears from this end of the telephone lines.  Save for cases of emergency such as getting hit by a truck, one should not wait until the last seconds to be anointed.  According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, anointing is to take place at the onset of the malady.  (This has been true since Trent though perhaps not in practice.)  It may be repeated if the persons becomes well and then falls into sickness again, if the condition worsens, or if a long period of times has passed.  The condition must be serious however, though not fatal.

 

Why this information on a post about manners?  Because manners means making things run as smoothly as possible for everyone involved.  In this age of less priests and more duties for them to do, it is not in keeping with the best possible manners to unnecessarily cause an emergency.  Further, there is a risk of the person being denied the sacrament because of the lack of priests and the small window of time available that may be avilable.  Perhaps he is at a diocesan meeting two hours away and calls are being forwarded to another parish where the priest is already on another call and won’t be back for a couple of hours.  Knowing your sacraments and taking advantage of them when they are intended as possible is just plain good manners.  And of course there are always true emergencies, we just need not create artificial ones.

 

Times have changed since Mrs. Lenner wrote her book.  In describing how one should be prepared for an anointing she writes, “the room should be in perfect order, the patient should be bathed and wearing fresh night clothing.  A woman patient’s costume should always be modest.  Near the sickbed there should be a table covered with a white cloth and holding a crucifix, two lighted blessed candles, a vessel of holy water, a spoon, a dish with five or more bits of cotton, and a damask napkin.  If the priest comes bearing the Blessed Sacrament, as he will of the patient is conscious, he should be met at the door by a person bearing a lighted, blessed candle and be conducted to the sickroom.”

 

Though nice, in reality, none of this done today.  Here are my recommendations for a modern day anointing.  After determining that a anointing should take place, if the person is mobile it may done in the church by setting up an appointment with the priest.  If the person is not mobile, the priest should be called at the earliest convenience and a mutually agreeable date and time set.  I highly recommend NEVER being absent from your home for such an appointment because you had a beauty parlour appointment or a bowling banquet.  (Yes, this does happen!)  That makes priests, justifiably or not, very grumpy.

 

It would be nice, if possible, to have the room and person as presentable as possible.  This is for the comfort of the patient who is incapable of making their place presentable to visitors.  All of the accoutrements about which Mrs. Fenner spoke are no longer necessary.  I do recommend a crucifix being present in the room in general however since the Church grants an indulgence.  #28 from the book of indulgences states that “if the priest cannot be present, holy mother Church lovingly grants such persons who are rightly disposed, a plenary indulgence to be obtained in articulo mortis (at the approach of death) provided they regularly prayed in some way during their lifetime.  The use of a crucifix or a cross is recommended in obtaining this plenary indulgence.”

 

The priest should be told of the condition of the person especially if death is not that far away.  There is an apostolic blessing that the priest will give if the situation is dire.  It is desirable that family, friends, and loved ones, (and as it turns out, often the health care professionals) be present and pray.  Sacraments are by their nature public prayers.  Except for confession and counseling it is absolutely wrong to excuse yourself for the anointing so that there might be privacy.

 

AND FOR THE LOVE OF PETE – TURN OFF THE TELEVISION.  It is often the case that the television has just become background noise for all the people in the house, but it can be very annoying and, worse yet, distracting during the celebration of the sacrament since today Buffy and Kent are actually to be reunited after being divorced three times because Buffy just found out that she is pregnant by the recently deceased brother of Kent and is tricking him into thinking it is his child which he has always wanted.

 

Because of the laws of the United States, it is extremely important to tell the admissions office of your institution that you are Catholic.  Notification is no longer made to you parish and no inquiry will be made.  You must declare your religious preferences for the Church to know that you are in the institution and are desiring of sacraments.  The information fairly will no longer magically notify your parish.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: THE WALL KIT

Recently somebody donated a box of religious items to the parish. Most of it was things used at Mass. One thing in the box, however, was a sick call crucifix that I hung in one of the guest bedrooms.

Sick call crucifixes used to fascinate me as a child with its sliding secret compartment, candles, holy water, and other things. It seems a majority of Catholic homes had one usually near the bedrooms or in the living room just in case it might be needed. This does not seem to be the case anymore. Whereas Catholics are still highly encouraged to have a crucifix hanging in their houses, the sick call crucifix seems to be becoming a thing of the past. (It it is not in your area, I would be interested in hearing about it.)

In all actuality, I have never seen one used and today they are largely not necessary. I do remember my mother showing how they would be used if it were ever needed however. “Before the priest comes,” she said, “we would prepare for his arrival. He will not be very talkative because he is carrying the Blessed Sacrament and therefore will not be engaging in idle chit chat until after.” She then took the crucifix off of the wall and placed it on a table. The top of the crucifix slid off and could be set up right into the base. A small cloth (which I take to be a corporal) would be placed on the table where Father could place his pyx. Two tiny beeswax candles would also be set into the base and lit because of the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. There was also a little vile of holy water.

Today there does not seem to be the need for one of these crucifixes. The priest generally brings with him all the things he needs for a visit and such things as candles are either no longer needed or even forbidden as many people we visit are on oxygen the combination of which would send a person to his maker sooner than anticipated. But neither is there anything that forbid or make inappropriate the use thereof.

MONDAY DIARY: NEVER AT A LOSS

I went to visit a friend this past week that I had not seen in a little spell for some mysterious reason. Then I found out why. It turns out that my friend had been pretty ill and was not completely over it yet. It wasn’t just a pretty bad flu, it was a serious illness.

Sometimes it is hard to come up with something to say in such situations. “I’m sorry,” seems as oddly wrong as it seems oddly appropriate. I find most people don’t mind talking about it but don’t want fussed over. So I include such situations into the general category of another joy of being a priest.

“Have you been anointed?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you want to?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

The Church gives us something to say and something to do. We fall into comfortable patterns of prayer and ways of being with each other and doing something – the very thing that such situations tend to steal from us – having something to do. Whereas the sacrament may be only given by a priest, certainly prayer and the offer to get someone to an anointing is certainly the realm of all Christians and as Catholics we are certainly blessed to have prayers prepared for us if we are at a loss as to what to say.

Gosh, I like being a Catholic priest.

MONDAY DIARY: HOSPITLVISITORITIS

There was a time I loathed visiting people in the hospital. Part of it was because of the unrealistic training that I receive in the seminary. Of course you could not dress like a priest and we were sent into people’s rooms without warning to offer prayer or conversation or whatever. Once there was a lady who had just had a total mastectomy. I walked in and said hello and tried to explain who I was when she started yelling at me to get out - shouting something about shiftless men who did this to her. That is where I got this case of fear of going to hospitals. Unless I had every bit of information including which bed the patient was in and was sure that the person wanted to see a priest I would go in shaking.

Times have changed. First, because of the hippo laws (if that is how the word is spelled, I hear about it all the time but don’t remember seeing it spelled) I cannot go into someone’s room unless I have been invited. In fact, the hospital cannot even tell me that you are in their facility without your expressed consent.

Secondly the situation from the seminary was a bit of a false taste of the ministry. One of the great things about being a priest in a parish is that you get to know people. I am not dropping in on a stranger but someone I see on a regular basis and with whom I have some kind of relationship. And more than likely they want to see me. Many times they are waiting to see me (or at least “a priest.”)

To that last point here is a common scenario from an event this past week. A call came in that somebody needs to be anointed. The information is taken down and jump in the priestmobile head out to Akron City. Parking at Akron City is now so complicated that I park a block away and just walk there.

I go up to the room and there is a lady in bed surrounded by her family. I chat with her husband and it turns out that he is not Catholic. I invite them all to pray with me and we anoint her and give her the apostolic pardon. She is, compared to how she had been, unusually responsive, opening her eyes and feebly trying to make the responses and gestures. Almost by the time I make it home she has passed. “She must have been waiting for that,” I was informed. And that is not unusual. Some people wait for certain relatives, some to be alone, some for a date, and some to be anointed. And it is a blessing to be able to be the one who brings Christ to someone at this important moment.

MONDAY DIARY: SECRET HOLY PLACES

Down the street from where my parents lived is a park with a pavilion in it. Apparently someone ended their life there a number of years ago. That seems to mark a place. People do not buy homes because a particular crime had taken place there. People believe that such things leave a bad aura. But what about the good things that happen? This came to mind because we are in the thick of confession season and priests are called to kinds of places to hear confessions. Although the rubrics say that confessions should take place in a confessional there are times when this is not possible.

This past weekend was the men’s conference in Akron. Over a thousand men showed up for this day of retreat at a local Catholic high school. A small army of priests were brought in to help hear confessions. Obviously there were not 40 confessionals available for use and so we were assigned classrooms. My classroom was a computer lab. Once inside one had to wind through a maze of desks to get to the chairs set up for confession. Computer screens faced me from every direction, the large windows looked out onto the front of the building, and smart board, which are now as common as overhead projectors used to be, sat at my left.

There was a break in the line of men coming for confession and I thought about Monday (today) when the students would return for classes. Did they have any idea of what went on in this classroom that they drag through every day? While they practice their typing do they have any notion that it was quite possible that the chair in which they were sitting was occupied recently by a dad who needed to bare his soul to God? While the student watches the clock tick the seconds away to the end of class do they have any idea of the healing and the joy that took place there?

I think of this with home Masses. Occasionally I go on vacation with other priests and we know that we are not going to be able to get to Mass and so bring a Mass kit with us and have Mass in the hotel room. I get a chuckle out of thinking that if there was a question on Family Feud about the top 8 things that take place in a hotel room, Mass would not be one of them.

Hotels and nursing homes are often thought of as sad places. We were called out on a number of occasions this past week to anoint people and offer the apostolic pardon for those standing on the threshold of life in the world to come. Family and friends might be sad but there is joy in a person being prepared to greet God. The definition of a saint is one who goes to heaven. I wonder how many hospital and nursing home beds are blessed to have had saints die in them? How many sacraments, Eucharist, confession, anointing, how many rosaries, how many pleas to God have taken place on these beds? It is not all tragic and sad. These can be very holy places.

On another note: I continue my crusade against the notion that anointing of the sick is for those who are on the point of death. Not only is not called for it is dangerous. Anointing of the sick is for those who are sick. Part of the hope is that with the blessing a person might get better.

I was called out late at night to anoint someone at a place that I had never been to before several parishes away. Apparently we were the only ones they could get a hold of. That was fine. I got out of bed, got dressed and headed to the address. But when I pulled into the place I realized that I had no idea where to go. It was not just a building but 40 acres of buildings. It was dark, the buildings were not well marked, and I had forgotten my cell phone. So I got out of my car and started wandering. A man with a flashlight called out, “Are you a priest?”

He was sent to keep an eye out for clergyman to help direct me to where I needed to go. We walked back to my car and he guided me to the correct building. As we drove we talked a bit. I asked if the person had a sudden turn for the worst.

“Oh no. She’s been like this for a while.”

“Then why did you wait until late at night to call for a priest?”

“Well, we think that she will die soon.”

“Just so you know you could have called earlier. Imminent death is not a prerequisite for an anointing. She would have been equally as covered if we anointed her in the evening.”

“When did that change?”

“The Council of Trent.”

“Well, these people are pretty old. When was that?”

“5 hundred years ago.”

“Oh.”

READING YOU YOUR (LAST) RITES

The Church no longer has Last Rites.

This is not a Vatican II thing.

We are talking Trent. As far back as then there was the clarification that the danger of death was not a condition for the reception of this sacrament. Unfortunately they did not go so far as to change the name of the sacrament from Extreme Unction then causing people to this day to try to wait to the very last possible second in order to be anointed.

The reason I mention this is because of an incident that happened this past weekend. We had our 80th anniversary celebration of our parish. After a great Mass (but are not all Masses great?) and a picnic and various other activities I retired to my humble abode and unexpectedly fell into a deep sleep on my couch. Waking up some time later I did not bother checking my emergency cell phone thinking that I had slept with it right next to my ear and surely if it had rung I would have heard it.

As it turned out I did not.

Fortunately I happened to check the phone later and found a message asking for “Last Rites” which turned out to be not only for a parishioner but for a family with whom I have been friends since before my priesthood. Thank goodness the call was caught!

Another call came about a week before asking for the same service but I was in Cleveland. It would be a couple of hours before I could make it but fortunately they thought it could wait.

Of course there are always emergencies that lead a person’s life to unexpected peril but for the vast majority of the cases this is not true. It is good to be anointed when it is needed, not trying to wait to the last possible moments as some used to in the early years of the Church with baptism hoping to get a free pass into heaven (since baptism wipes away all sins.) Risky business if you happened to get hit by a first century bus or if your twenty-first century priest decided to go for a walk in the woods and his cell phone does not pick up your call.

The opposite extreme which is equally as bad is getting anointed every time you get a head cold. There must be some serious (not necessarily grave) illness, debilitating chronic condition or extreme old age. A future surgery is also a reason to be anointed. Minor surgery is like Minor Asia: there’s nothing minor about it.

If you get sick and recover you should offer thanks. If you recover but then get sick again, you may also be anointed again. If your condition deteriorates dramatically that is also a condition in which you may be anointed again. If it is a persistent chronic problem and a sufficient amount of time has passed (6 months to a year) you may wish to be anointed again. To be avoided is being anointed as often as you shower. “Fr. X just anointed me but you can too! I could use the blessings Fr. Y.” That would be a bit like stepping out of the confessional and going into the next one just for blessing of it. It is rather an abuse (which is also why we may only receive Communion up to two times in one day and the second time must be in the context of the Mass.)

So plan! Be anointed before that surgery! Be anointed at the onset of illness and do not wait to the last second! It may not happen! And it would have been avoidable.

MONDAY DIARY CHAPTER 4

TRYING TO ANSWER THE QUESTION, “WHAT DOES A PRIEST DO?” Wednesday morning they clean the offices at the rectory making accomplishing anything significant difficult and so the morning is used as the time to visit people in the hospital.

At the main desk they provide a sheet of names of people from the parish and I roam about the sprawling and growing complex checking up on people, visiting, and blessing and anointing when it is needed. Let’s be very clear. I used to hate this. I felt uncomfortable, intrusive, awkward, and completely unqualified. It began with a bad experience when I was in the seminary. They sent us into a hospital and told us to go talk to people. I went into a room where, unbeknownst to me, a lady just had surgery for “lady problems” and was angry – particularly at men – particularly men in hospitals. I didn’t get much past, “Hello, my name is . . .” when she started screaming for me to get out.

I did.

That was the only incident but it made going to the hospital for me a painful weekly experience. Now it is not so bad because of the relief it brings to so many people on many different levels. A distracting visit, the surety of the sacraments, the comfort of prayer, and a symbol of hope in a difficult situation.

This past Wednesday I was in part of the hospital that was devoted to people who have memory problems like my father. The people here may have no idea who I am but they light up at the sight of a collar. People who cannot carry on a conversation click “on” and join in prayer as if there were little wrong with them, their faces relaxing in this moment of peace amidst the chaos of illness.

The day before (Tuesday, my day away) I went to visit my Dad. I was wondering if this was the time to talk about death. It wasn’t, most definitely. “Ask him if he thought about praying instead,” was a question that rang in my ear. So I did. In his most gruff manner he said, “I don’t even know how.” “Just ask him to help you Dad.” “Fine!” he groused, “God help me!”

Well, it was start.

Often the priest is the only one who broaches such important topics with people as death and the state of one’s soul. Everyone else is too polite and does not want to risk depressing a dying person. But can you imagine the most important thing in one’s life is about to take place and nobody wants to talk about it?

As I was leaving the hospital on Wednesday a lady stopped me and asked me if I was Catholic. “Would you talk to my husband?” Apparently he was in much the same situation as my Dad. “He is not completely coherent, does not believe in God, and is slipping away. Would you offer to talk to him or pray with him?” Of course I wouldn’t mind.

He did though.

I offered him a blessing or a prayer and he waved me off. So I wished him a good day and left him while thoughts of that woman who did not want me in her room so long ago circled around in my mind (which is why I do not go into any room without an invitation.) But I thought of him for some time (which was probably why that clip from yesterday infected my thoughts so.)

It was funny I felt more for his wife than I did him. I guess there may be 1,001 legitimate reasons why he might not want to see a priest, but she felt so frustrated for what else could she give? She can provide company but not hope. She can say goodbye but not see you later dear. She can say thanks but not pray with him for his good reward. Company, hope, goodbye, see you later, thanks, your sins are forgiven, these are the things I want to hear on my death bed and why I go back to the hospital every Wednesday.

MONDAY DIARY CHAPTER II

Answering the question: What is it like in the day of a priest?

Sometimes priests struggle with having to take care of elderly and sick parents just like anybody else. For a while I had to deal with this situation alone. But this past year a blessing came by way of one of my sisters moving back to town (after 30 years of living in the south and making it back to Ohio just in time for one of our worst winters in many, many, years.)

So this past Monday the phone rang in the middle of the night. It was the hospital. This is not an unusual occurrence in a rectory. What made it different was that this time it was concerning my father. He was in the hospital. (Before you become too concerned, he is doing well now.) I grabbed my oils and jumped in the car and met my sister in the emergency room. Normally I would go on in to see the patient/parishioner but we were in for the long haul and so a seat was taken out in the waiting room until we should be summoned by the nurse.

Lots of interesting things happen in an emergency room at night. The highlight was an elderly couple leaving the ER in much joy (their emergency apparently dealt with.) They were laughing hysterically for when the ambulance brought the husband in, they forgot to bring along shoes and so he left the hospital on that slushy night wearing socks and latex gloves on his feet.

As for us, eventually a nurse came out and invited us to the bedside of our Dad. He was pale and mostly unresponsive. I reached down and touched the oil stock for the anointing of the sick that was in my pocket. If you have read this blog for a spell you know that my Dad is at best tolerant of God and religion though more lately there have been cracks in that facade. It was several months ago that he let me pray for him anointing him with oil, even thanking me for it. This could quite possibly be the worst time in his life as he does not believe in an afterlife. That brings with it the realization that not just life, but existence is coming to an end. Period. There is no more excitement to look forward to in this life or in one to come. He is just surviving until nothingness.

So do I anoint him? In the end my sister and I decided to do so. A couple of times he stirred and I found myself actually uttering a prayer that he would stay unresponsive as his reaction might just as easily be snappy (rightful?) anger as it might be great relief and appreciation. There was no way of telling.

The next day, my day away from the parish, I sat by his bedside reading the book about Padre Pio (reviewed in this site last Thursday.) Dad was bouncing back like a super ball. There is nothing to make you fight for life than the thought that earthly death means complete annihilation. What a contrast to what I was reading. Padre Pio who had an overwhelming love for God and a belief in the life to come begged to be released of the bonds of this earthly life so that he might enjoy the company of his God and the saints in heaven. “I desire death,” he says, “only because it will unite me with indissoluble chains to the heavenly Spouse.”

As a priest you see many people come to the end of their earthly path. It is difficult to be with people who do not have faith in or have a very weak relationship with God. Perhaps it happens, but I have never seen anyone go to his or her death in peace in that situation. It is tragic. What else can it be? There is no hope. Eventually the one who says they are Okay with being dead will face the abyss and may be brave, but has no hope. And if there is no hope there can be no joy.

The flip side of that coin concerns those who believe in God and have worked on their relationship with Him. There may still be a certain amount of fear (I fear dying more than death I suppose) but in the end there can be peace, hope, even joy. Mom went like that. Though she was in pain, she went as they said John Paul II went, as if she passed from one room to another. Dad however will go kicking and screaming into a dark night.

That is the gift of God to us. We are asked to contemplate that this Holy Week. Because of Christ, death has been redefined. A good Christian may still fear leaving the known for the unknown, but at least there is still an unknown awaiting you as opposed to nothingness. Even if we face a firing squad and there is no chance of escaping it, we still have hope and that hope awaits us on the other side of the Cross.

DON'T GIVE UP THE SHIP

Humility, humility, and ever more humility.

Toward the end of Miracle on 34th Street we see a little girl in the back seat of a car saying about Santa, “I do believe, I do believe, it’s silly, but I do believe*,” and her persistence pays off when Santa makes her wishes come true. That is a bit how I handled prayer for my father.

I’ve shared in past that my father has no time for religion. When I said I wanted to go into the seminary he said that, “Religion is for weak people.” I could count on one hand the number of times he has been in church. If you stuck the word “voluntarily” in that sentence, I would not even need one hand.

I don’t tell you this simply to defame my father but to tell you never to give up on prayer. I prayed for my father daily for years. At one point it became apparent that he had Alzheimer’s and had to go into the nursing home. I asked him occasionally if I could anoint him and he steadfastly refused. I resorted to bribing another priest to try his best at it thinking it might just be me, but no.

I continued to pray for him but as half heartedly as the girl in “Miracle,” “I do believe God can move mountains, I do believe God can move mountains, it’s silly, but do believe God can move mountains.” Once he entered more deeply into Alzheimer’s I figured that it was too late. Before when he was rational there might have been an opportunity but now, even if he did at some enlightened moment decide that he wanted to get to know God a little better, two seconds later he would thoroughly forget the desire and anything about which we had talked. I stated this publicly from the pulpit.

Still people would say that they were praying for him. I would smile and say thank you and figure even it were a waist of time at least people were praying and maybe God could apply it somebody else or something.

It turns out that the one who needed conversion was I. I am the one who needed to be reminded of the power of prayer. My Dad had to go to the hospital for a relatively minor “incident” and my sister and I were sitting with the anxious Alzheimer’s patient in his room. “I could anoint you Dad if you think it might help or make you feel better.” I was waiting for the blow off when he said, “Yeah. Sure!” After my sister and I scooped our jaws up off of the floor we engaged in the sacrament as quickly as possible just in case the moment might pass. But he stuck with us through the whole thing even fumbling through the Our Father with us. Minutes later sitting in the glow of being able to give my Father what I believed was one of the most valuable gifts that I could give him I was in for an even greater shock. After some quiet time had passed he offered a very sincere thank you. A thank you from a man who at times cannot remember that there was a person in a room 10 seconds after they leave.

I do believe in prayer.

Thank you.

*Or it is close to this. I’m sure someone out there knows the exact quote.