The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Showing posts with label Hospital. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hospital. Show all posts

Monday, December 11, 2023

Homily: Tuesday, 1st Week of Advent

Readings Is 11:1-10; Ps 72; Lk 10:21-24

___________________________ 

Whenever I read today’s Gospel passage from Luke, I realize how blessed we are as Christians because we know Jesus Christ, just as Jesus revealed to the disciples:

“Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”

He said this to the 72 who had just returned from their mission to take the Good News into the world, to do the work Jesus had been doing. Not long before, Jesus had sent the 12 out on their first mission to do the same: to preach, to teach, and to heal, all in the name of Jesus Christ. And all of these first missionaries had proclaimed the Kingdom of God to the People of God, for the Jews would be the first to hear the Good News. Jesus had also told them:

“To you it has been given to know the secrets of the Kingdom of God, but to others I speak in parables, so that looking they may not perceive and hearing they may not understand.”

These words don’t mean that insight and understanding are given only to Jesus’ immediate disciples. Rather, He is telling them that they, because they are faithful disciples, have opened themselves to hear and, therefore, to understand His message, and to see and imitate His works.

I can take no credit for converting a single soul, but I suppose in some way, God works through us to lead those He calls to discipleship. For over ten years, Diane and I served as hospital chaplains here in The Villages. On our assigned days we would be asked to visit 20 or 30 newly admitted patients, people of all faiths. Our role was largely prayerful, to provide comfort to those who were suffering, to assist them if they had unaddressed needs, but mostly just to listen.

One morning we visited a man on the cardiac care floor. As we entered his room, he noticed our “Chaplain” name tags, and with a frown said:

“I had a heart attack that almost killed me. Now the doctors tell me I need a transplant, But the chances aren’t good that I’ll survive long enough to get one.”

He then asked – and these were his words:

“What the hell do you want?”

So, I said the only thing I could think of saying:

“To help you avoid going there.”

I guess that broke the ice. He laughed and asked us what church we came from. When I told him we were Catholic, he said he used to be, but left the Church when he was in his 20s. I just said, “Well, if you were baptized, you’re still a Catholic, even if you don’t know it.”

With that the three of us talked a while – about his life, about his fear of death, about Jesus and God’s unconditional love, but mostly about forgiveness. Eventually he admitted, as he described it, having “a mountain of sins, mostly unforgiveable.”

So, we suggested, “Well, then, let’s test your theory. I’m going to call a priest friend, a really good guy, and he’ll come here, and hear your confession. With that you’ll taste the goodness of God’s forgiveness. And you’ll also see how wonderful it is to be in friendship with Jesus Christ.”

It all happened just as God planned it. When my priest friend entered the room, this long-lapsed soul sat up and cried.

He died the following week.

So, do you see how blessed we are to have known Jesus Christ, most of us for our entire lives? And yet, He is there for all, even those who have long ignored Him.

But we are called, just like the Apostles and the 72, to evangelize, to take the Good News of Jesus Christ to all those we encounter, to all those places in our lives.

The great thing is, He does all the work; we just say and do whatever He tells us.


Wednesday, October 18, 2023

Overcoming Hatred and Evil

"There will be peace in the Middle East only when the Arabs love their children more than they hate Israel.” ~ Golda Meir

Have you been listening to the ongoing controversy about the attack on the Gaza hospital? If you haven't, you must be stranded on a desert island awaiting rescue. Apparently, according to Hamas (a collection of rapists, torturers, and murderers of women and children), as well as every Islamic nation, and most Western media, Israeli aircraft bombed a Gaza hospital and killed hundreds of patients and medical personnel. Did the mainstream media question this assertion by Hamas, an organization whose leaders cannot open their mouths without lying? Did they tell us they were investigating these claims to see if they were true? No, they simply accepted them as true. But then Israel stated it has extremely convincing evidence that the catastrophe at the hospital resulted from an errant missile fired by Islamist terrorists supporting Hamas. Our own intelligence agencies have confirmed the same. And, believe me, anyone who knows anything about the effects of bombing know full well the damage was not the result of a bomb dropped by an aircraft. This has been generally ignored by all the usual suspects who, as expected, accept the word of baby killers and rapists over the that of the Israeli government and our intelligence agencies. One underlying belief that motivates all those accusing Israel, or just blindly accepting the Hamas lies, is what we like to call anti-Semitism, which I will translate into the far more descriptive, “hatred of Jews,” especially those who live in Israel.

Of course, our president, while declaring his full support for Israel, just can’t bring himself to mention the nasty elephant in the room: the terrorist Islamic Republic of Iran. Addressing the states that support Hamas and hate Israel, which presumably includes Iran, he tells them all not to do anything rash by saying, “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.” What exactly does that mean? If our enemies don’t know, they will logically assume we don’t either. The president’s words are certainly no real threat to those who plan to do Israel and us real harm. How much more effective it would be if President Biden simply told them bluntly that by joining in this conflict, they might well precipitate World War III. To prevent this we would be forced to attack them in their homelands, destroying their military and industrial infrastructures. It would seem, however, the administration will continue to deal with our enemies as if they were rational beings. But that is not the case. Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, and too many others are zealots who have no problem sacrificing their own people for their quasi-religious cause. Life and death mean little to those driven solely by their hateful ideology. These are not easy people to deal with, but one thing we know: they respect power only when believe it will be used against them.

The next few months should be very interesting. Sadly, Hamas is run and staffed by vicious people so there’s little chance they will change without God’s help. This is true also of Hezbollah, Iran, and far too many others blinded by sheer hatred. Continued peace for Israel will likely require a lengthy and challenging effort to destroy the war-making capability of Hamas and remove it from power in Gaza. There is much our nation can do to lessen the threat to Israel, and the greater threat to Western civilization. I’m just not very confident our current political leadership has the courage and the will to do what must be done. We pray for peace, but for continuing peace. Pray, too, for the conversion of all who despise the Lord and His people. After all, with God, all things are possible.
 

Friday, September 10, 2021

Homily: Saturday, 23rd Week in Ordinary Time (20th Anniversary of 9/11)

A few years ago, on one of my days as on-call hospital chaplain, I visited a patient who began the conversation by saying he belonged to no church, that he believed in God, but was pretty sure God didn’t care much about him.

That’s not the sort of thing you usually hear when visiting patients, so I asked him why he thought that. His answer was just as surprising…

“I’m 83 years old and I’ve done just about every bad thing you can imagine. And now they tell me I’m dying. I don’t know if there’s a heaven or a hell, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to heaven.”

I smiled at him and asked, “Oh, so you’re a sinner?”

His response? “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Well, welcome to the club,” I told him. “a very exclusive club, one that includes us all.”

It was then I thought of what St. Paul wrote to Timothy, words from today's first reading:

“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. Of these, I am the foremost” [1 Tim 1:15].

Sharing this with him, I told him he reminded me of St. Paul, a man who realized his sinfulness, but then came to understand that Jesus Christ entered the world, that He suffered and died to save him and every other sinner.

The two of us shared a lot that morning, including the fact that we each had a friend who died on 9/11.

Yes, we shared a lot, about sin, and repentance, and forgiveness, and redemption. And I think it changed us both. As we heard in our psalm:

He raises up the lowly from the dust…” [Ps 113:7]

That’s how we all feel sometimes, isn't it? As if we’re enveloped in a cloud of dust, struggling to break through, hoping to see the light and find the truth.

But we can’t do it on our own. Only God can raise us up, out of the world’s dust. Like my hospital patient, sometimes it can take a lifetime to understand and accept that.

As I hope he discovered, it’s never too late to rebuild our house on the solid foundation of God’s mercy, God's love, and God's Word.

I thought of him, too, today as we call to mind tragic events of 20 years ago. And there’s so much to remember, isn’t there?

We pray for those who lost their lives, and for those they left behind.

We also pray for and thank those who gave their lives, who didn’t hesitate to enter selflessly into that cauldron, those scenes of destruction, to help -- those first responders who gave everything, and the 40 men and women on flight 93 who sacrificed their lives to save others.

Yes, indeed, although so many died in those clouds of dust in Manhattan, the Pentagon, and in a field in rural Pennsylvania, we believe they were raised up by the Lord.

In the first of His brief parables in today’s Gospel passage from Luke, Jesus tells the disciples:

“Every tree is known by its fruit…” [Lk 6:44]

There was certainly enough “rotten fruit” on that September 11, acts carried out by those whose hearts were filled with hatred.

But there was so much more “good fruit,” thanks to the goodness the world witnessed that day. How did Jesus put it?

“A good person out of the store of goodness in his heart produces good…” [Lk 6:45]

There were so many hearts filled with goodness that day, so many who have given their lives in our defense since then, and so many today as well.

The other day, in an interview, a woman who lost her husband on 9/11 said, “And I pray, too, for the terrorists, because only God can change their hearts. We certainly haven't been able to do it with politics, diplomacy, or military might.”

Today, she, and I, and all of us look at our world and wonder if much has really changed in 20 years. Perhaps the answer lies in our hearts.

Do we honestly think we can bring about goodness in the world without God’s help?

No, only God can raise us up out of the dust. We can’t do it on our own.

Perhaps 3,000 years ago, the Psalmist said it well:

"Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals in whom there is no help. When their breath departs, they return to the earth, so that very day their plans perish. Happy are those whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God [Ps 146:3-5].

Do we place our hope in the Lord, our God? Are we like those whom the Lord praised?

"I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, listens to my words, and acts on them” [Lk 6:47].

 God love you and God bless our nation.


Monday, November 16, 2020

One for Diane

In my last post I touched on a few poems I’ve long enjoyed and added a few words about how poetry has influenced me. Although I appreciate good poetry I am by no means a poet. On occasion, though, I pen a few verses, usually for a friend or to mark some family occasion. Most are attempts at versified humor and, although they might generate a few laughs, they're really pretty pathetic,. But every so often the muse strikes and asks me to get slightly serious and address something more meaningful. The quality is no better but they come from the heart.

Abut 10 days ago, while Diane and I were preparing lunch together, she suddenly collapsed and fell to the hard ceramic tile floor in the kitchen. She was unconscious for several minutes and the fall cut the back of her pretty head badly, ultimately requiring seven staples. A quick 911 call and the EMTs were with us. They took Diane to a local hospital, where they treated her head wound and gave her a CAT Scan. Because of possible neurological concerns, she was quickly transferred to Shands Hospital at the University of Florida in Gainesville, certainly among the best hospitals in Florida. When they moved her to the ICU, I was more than a little concerned. 
 
Although together now for 52 years, it’s too easy to forget there are fewer years ahead of us and we should cherish every moment. Not happy to be separated from her — COVID protocols limited the time I could spend with her — I took just a few minutes to write these lines of verse for Dear Diane while I waited for the gatekeepers to let me into the ICU. As I’ve already said, it ain’t great, but it came from within.

     To Be With Thee


How bleak a day can be

When I am not with Thee.

Though I set aside my fears, 

The hours yet pass like years. 


We’ve been as one so long

To be apart seems wrong.

So many times before,

Through each I’ve loved you more. 


In whom can I confide?

For Thou hast been my guide.

I need Thee here with me 

So I complete can be. 


I know there’ll be a day

When God calls one away.

But love alone empowers

And binds two hearts like ours.


We shall forever be

In love, yes, Thee and me.

__________________


To Diane, November 6, 2020

Fortunately, after four days at Shands, and every test the neurosurgeons could think of, she was released, presumably in good health. She's doing wonderfully and looks forward to having the staples removed this afternoon. Thanks to all for your prayers. God is so very good! Everything is a gift.


Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Broken but Beautiful

Once or twice a month Diane and I are privileged to minister as on-call chaplains at our local hospital here in The Villages, Florida. This involves being available for a 24-hour period, and spending a few hours during the day visiting the newly admitted patients. In most instances the patients we visit have been hospitalized for surgery or other procedures, or for treatment of injury or illness. After a few days of healing or treatment, the majority of patients recover and return to their homes or perhaps go to a local rehab facility. Of course, we live in a retirement community, so some patients must deal with terminal illness, and many of these, depending on the progress of their illness, will enter hospice.

On occasion, and so often these calls arrive late at night or early in the morning, we are asked to minister to the dying or to the families of those who have just died. Inevitably, when the phone rings at 2 a.m., I wake up grumbling in my own uniquely human way, "Oh, great!! There goes my night's sleep." But then, as the hospital operator relays the situation and the need, my heart melts and I know Diane and I are being asked to take Gods merciful love to those in real need of it. 

We try to offer spiritual comfort and hope to the dying, perhaps share a prayer with the family, and just listen as family and friends struggle to cope with the loss of one who is loved. But about the last thing a family needs at this time is for someone to preach at them. Over time I've come to realize that so often it simply means being quietly present. I suppose for many our presence in some way assures them of God's presence. We are just a sign of God's real, enduring, loving presence, especially at a time when God can seem so distant. I believe that often enough it's in the silence that God manifests His presence, and like Elijah at Horeb, we must draw away from the noise and distractions of the world and listen for God's "still small voice."
Recently, though, I've been the recipient of that voice thanks to Nancy and Joe, our dear friends from South Carolina. For the past few months, Diane and I have been their on-again, off-again hosts at our home here in The Villages, Florida. As I mentioned in a previous post, this has involved my driving them to Tampa so Nancy can receive frequent treatment at Moffitt Cancer Center.

While Nancy is being examined, poked, prodded, treated, and transfused with blood and platelets, Joe is usually with her. This leaves me to spend considerable time in one of the many waiting rooms. Thanks to my trusty iPad, I can take work with me and usually do. But occasionally my aging brain refuses to cooperate and the Spirit leads me to strike up a conversation with someone seated nearby. And, believe me, chatting with cancer patients has been an enlightening experience.

Unlike the waiting rooms of my dermatologist, eye surgeon, and primary care physician, the waiting rooms at Moffitt are populated with cancer patients, family members, and caregivers. I guess I'm among the few exceptions since I fall into none of these categories. In truth Nancy and Joe insist on calling me their "driver." And a happily content driver I am...and surprisingly patient too since I spend so much time putting the wait into waiting rooms. And thanks to those waits, I have learned much about courage, and faith, and thankfulness, and hope, and fear. 

Here I am, 74 years old, reasonably healthy, and certainly not focused on, as Nancy calls it in true disco fashion, "Stayin' alive." But on every visit I find myself in the presence of some truly wonderful people. The hope, faith, and courage, and yes, even the fears, are there, plainly evident in the faces of those seated around me. But all are so courageous in their own unique ways, and for many their faith just overwhelms the fear. Interestingly, the courage and faith of the patients also seem to dampen the fears of family members, especially that of spouses.

As I chat with these good people, they talk about their families, their illnesses, their faith, but not about their work or their jobs, and never, or rarely, about the past. For so many people today their work is life-defining; but for the seriously ill cancer patient work is all but forgotten, replaced by something else, something truly life-defining. It's all about relationships with others; in a sense it's all about communion.

And here I sit, secretly thankful that I don't suffer from this dreaded disease, but quietly wondering whether such suffering might help me find the path to the salvation God wills for me. And so I pray, and ask you to pray with me. I pray for Nancy and Joe. I pray for all those patients whose names I don't know, all those broken by illness but beautiful in faith, all those who taught me as I waited. And I thank God for every day He has given me, for today, and for every day I have yet to live.

Praised be Jesus Christ...now and forever!

Saturday, July 14, 2018

Homily: Healing Service

This morning one of our visiting priests, Father Ron Oser, celebrated the morning Mass. Deacon Dick Stevens and I assisted. Twice each year we conduct a healing service following this Mass, so the Mass and service draw many who seek healing in their lives and the lives of others. I was asked to preach the homily at Mass, which I have posted below.
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Readings: Is 6:1-8 • Psalm 93 • Gospel: Mt 10:24-33
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A few years ago, on one of my chaplain days at the hospital, I entered the room of a parishioner.

Normally Diane and I minister together, but on this particular day she was ill and couldn't join me. Of course, her absence means I'll more likely say or do something amazingly stupid.

Anyway, I recognized the man, and we talked for a while about his illness. Then I prayed with him and gave him a blessing. He was lonely and afraid, and not all that comfortable as I prayed. Before leaving, I asked if I could add him to the prayer list of parishioners who are ill.

"Oh, no," he replied, "I don't want people to know I'm sick. I'd like to keep it quiet."

"Oh, okay," I said and left his room. I told you I'd do something stupid.

After visiting a few more patients, I entered a room that was crowded with visitors. I apologized for interrupting and said I'd return later, but the patient, a woman of 85, just said, "Don't go. Come on in and join the crowd." And so I did.

She was a Southern Baptist and her visitors included her husband, a sister, a neighbor, several members of her church, and her pastor. Our conversation covered the waterfront -- her family, her hometown, her illnesses.

In her words, "I've got so many things wrong with me, they don't know which ones to work on. But I really can't complain; God let me live a lot longer than I expected."

I asked if I could pray with her, and the whole crowd joined hands.

I prayed for healing and peace, that God's will be done in her life and the lives of all present. We prayed for her doctors, her nurses, and her husband, and thanked God for the gift of friendship. We thanked God too for the gift of discipleship, for those who listen to the Lord when He says, "I was...ill and you cared for me..." Before leaving, I remarked that she was blessed to have so many caring for her and praying for her.

"Yes," she said, "I am blessed. And their prayers mean so much. They let me know that I am loved, that I belong."

When I left home that morning, I asked Diane to pray that I would minister worthily and well. I guess she did, because as soon as I left that room I headed back to the room of our parishioner. I sat down and said:

"Your Baptism made you a child of God, a member of the Church, of a community of the faithful, a community called to love you. Let that community know you need their prayers, because, believe me, you do. The prayer of the community brings healing; it brings you to repentance and brings peace of mind and soul; it brings you the joy you seek in your life, the joy promised by the God who loves you. In your illness you're lonely and afraid. But God wants you to love and be loved. He wants you joyful, not fearful. Don't let pride separate you from those who strive to be true disciples by doing God's will in the world, which includes loving and praying for you. By praying and caring for you they further God's plan for their salvation and that of the world."

Now, I was just as surprised by my words as he was. They certainly didn't come from me. No, the Holy Spirit and Diane's prayers brought those words into being.

Anyway, after the Spirit's little homily, the patient agreed to be prayed for and as I left I asked him to pray for the Baptist woman down the hall. That generated an odd look so I just said: "Pray for her. Her joy will bring you healing."

It's hard not to think of him as I stand before this community of the faithful gathered here today.

We're gathered in communion, as the Church; gathered here in Jesus' holy name; gathered in Christ's Eucharistic presence; and through that communion we're graced by healing today. This, then, is today's first healing thought:
It's through communion with Jesus, communion with each other, indeed, communion with God's created order that brings healing into our lives.
As Jesus reminds us in today's passage from Matthew: He is "Master of the House." We're not the Master. Our redemption, our healing take place on God's terms, not ours. When we come to terms with God's terms, we may well find ourselves confronting some other corner of our lives where the need for healing is even greater.

We're here today in Jesus' name, and so He is with us. He's also with us in Word and Eucharist. Accept His presence and that of His Spirit, for as Jesus told Nicodemus:
"The Spirit blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes" [Jn 3:8].
Let the Holy Spirit move where He wills in your life. For it is through the Spirit, through Him alone, that you receive the healing God wants for you, that you come to know God's will for you. This leads to our second healing thought:
In our brokenness you and I are called to be both healed and healer.
How many of us, pushing aside our own perceived needs, respond to Jesus' call to be healer? How many of you, here today for healing, are pleading with God to heal those sitting next to you? After all, if we've come together as a communion of faith, gathered here to bring God's healing to His Church, we must respond to His call to be healers.

We all need healing, every one of us. But so often we don't realize the healing God desires for us. Instead we just get irrational: "Why me, Lord, why me?" And then we change our tune: "Heal me, Lord, of this evil thing you gave me."

Isn't that amazing! We blame God, and then ask Him to fix it. And we call ourselves intelligent beings.
Image result for heal me lord
We plead for healing...alone
Of course we're just focused on ourselves, and by focusing on ourselves instead of God, we find nothing but fear and loneliness...just like the parishioner in the hospital.

Do we ever think of asking God to turn that which is evil in our lives into something good?

Look around you. Reach out to another in need of healing. Set aside your own needs and minister to the other, to Jesus: "I was...ill and you cared for me" [Mt 25:36].
Related image

When we break free of our self-imposed loneliness our fears disappear. Fear's a very natural, human thing. It'd be unnatural not to fear when life is threatened by illness. But listen again to what Jesus says to the disciples:
"...do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul..." [Mt 10:28]
You see, Jesus is telling us that His true disciple need not fear the world and the evils it can bring. And how does He explain this? Simply by letting us know that
"Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known" [Mt 10:26]
In other words, we should never fear because He promised that, ultimately, the Truth will triumph. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And He will triumph. As His disciples, we'll join in that victory.

And so, Jesus, the Lord of History, assures us that He will overcome every threat to the body, every illness, every persecution. You see, brothers and sisters, the true disciple - like the martyrs of the past and present who willingly sacrificed their bodies for the Truth - knows he is more than his body. This brings us to our third and final healing thought:
God always heals the human spirit first.
In our sinfulness we need healing of the soul, for only that can bring us eternal life. Three times in this brief passage Jesus tells the Apostles, and He tells us, not to fear. He implies that we must instead rejoice.

I think again of that woman of 85 in the hospital, how she rejoiced in her illnesses, how she rejoiced in the gift of life, how she rejoiced in God's love expressed through those who prayed for her. She knew that God had healed her many times during her long life, healed her body and her spirit. She knew, too, that whatever healing God gives her this day is the healing He meant for her to have.
Simone Weil, the brilliant, young French philosopher who escaped the Nazis, once wrote:
"Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."
Yes, two very different people - Simone Weil, born Jewish, Catholic by conviction, died in exile in 1943 at the age of 33; and my Southern Baptist patient in The Villages Hospital - and yet they both came to know this truth about the love of God. Let me repeat: 
"Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."
We see this displayed so often in the Gospel - the love expressed by those who seek healing from the Lord, a love arising out of their saving faith.

We see it in the faith of the woman who had suffered for 12 years with hemorrhages. [Mk 5]

We see it in the faith of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar of Jericho, who leaps to his feet and goes to the Lord...to see. To see what? To see the Way, to see the Truth, to see the Life [Mk 10].
Bartimaeus Leaps for Joy and is Healed
Jesus tells them and so many others like them, "Your faith has saved you."

Brothers and sisters, will all of us gathered here today accept the way of the disciple?

Will we unite our prayers to bring God's healing power to each other, to the world?

In our brokenness, will we accept the call to be healers, taking Jesus to those in need?

Is there enough wonder in us to accept that God, by healing our spirits, by creating in us new hearts - that by doing this He is doing something even greater than the creation of the universe?

Yes, we have a lot of work to do today. For we are all here not just to be healed, but also to carry God's healing power to others.

Like Isaiah in our first reading, we are called, but can we respond to God's call?
"Here I am. Send me" [Is 6:8]