IT CERTAINLY could not have been winter as it was still bright at 7pm or 8pm when I called to a colleague, who was in hospital. That particular evening I managed to bring my dog around to the window outside his room so that he could see her. He was delighted to see her and during the following five months regularly asked about her, indeed, told me to say hello to her from him.
He had been in hospital more or less continuously from then until last month when he died.
And all during that time I called to see him most evenings after work. It became part of my routine at the end of a walk with my dog. I’d tie Tess to a bicycle stand and drop in for a 10-minute visit. It seemed as if my Labrador knew the daily ritual and was always ready to wag her tail when I appeared at the hospital door after my visit.
I first met the man in 1969 when he taught me, but I had little or no contact with him since
1974. Now when I pass the hospital it seems strange not to go in to see him. But that’s life and the only one certainty we are assured of is that we will all die. There are no exceptions.
In tomorrow’s Gospel (Mark 1: 29-39) we read how Jesus at the beginning of his preaching ministry heals a number of people. The word gets around of his powers and so it is understandable that his disciples mention to him, “Everyone is looking for you”. He answers them, “Let us go elsewhere, to the neighbouring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came.” (Mark 1: 38)
I have never been easy when any hint of a suggestion is made that “extra natural” powers might work through the hands of a priest, especially when visiting the sick. Magic can never be part of the vocabulary of anything to do with Christian ministry.
When it comes to saying anything about God we really have to be extremely guarded and careful. It’s far too easy to launch into a flight of fantasy.
But surely when we, through our words and actions and our prayers too, show kindness to one another, especially towards those who are fragile, vulnerable, weak and ill, we are in some way making it possible for God’s presence to be experienced in the world about us.
All good and healthy relationships operate in both directions and anyone who has any dealings with another person will always be aware that “grace” flows in a two-way system.
From my limited experience visiting the sick I can categorically say that on all occasions I have been the person who has “gained” from the experience.
In the five months that I have been visiting my Dominican colleague in hospital I have been inspired by his fortitude and bravery, and his wisdom too.
And I am always struck with how people face difficulties, how people face illness and misfortune. Has it something to do with God’s grace? Maybe it has. But once we are there for one another, the possibilities for goodness are really limitless.
Visiting that man for those months showed me that Christianity is primarily about our relationships with one another and then with God. But the God we know is the Jesus of the New Testament who spent his short life supporting and helping people, especially those who were the vulnerable and fragile in society.
No doubt there is a place for dogma and orthodoxy, but the pillars that give life to Christianity are our relationships with other people. After my friend died last month, someone observed that it was through his humanity that his holiness came through.
Wise words. It is in our everyday lives, in the ordinary things that we do that we have the possibility of contributing to making God present in our world. And very often God's grace is present to us in places we least expect. In the very ordinary things we do, day-in, day-out. – MICHAEL COMMANE OP