A family member got diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer last week. After some initial questions about what's going on, the prognosis, and what some of these new medical terms even mean, my very next step was finding a priest. My family member is not in his hometown, or mine, so I started with Google, and then with friends (and a colleague here at Aleteia) to find someone.
It reminded me of another time that I turned to Google, now many years ago. I was living in a foreign country, but a friend I'd made the year before was suddenly in the hospital and ... it was stomach cancer.
I didn't know anyone in his family or in the area of the hospital, but those are the times when you definitely appreciate the internet.
A quick search, then a call, an email with some explanation ... and some days later, my friend had died, but I got a message. His mom was so grateful. He'd been away from the Church (which I knew) but a priest came and heard his confession. His mom is so glad, I was told.
The Holy Spirit made me do it
I think back on that with special affection, not just because now I have a friend in heaven. As a mom, I can imagine his mom's relief. But I remember it so poignantly because I felt such hesitation about calling the priest. "I'm not even from this state, and I'm calling from another country. Do I really have to do this?" I thought.
In retrospect, I feel sure that it was the devil trying to keep me from doing it, and the Holy Spirit who made me. Now my friend is in heaven, I'm sure, because I trust in the power of the sacraments. The results of that phone call give me certainty, which is consolation when we're grieving.
After last week's news, that friend is now one of my intercessors for my family member!
Apostolic pardon -- have you heard of it?
My colleague has a similar story. He wrote about his dad here. But this essay only mentions briefly that his dad "consented to receive Last Rites from a priest, 'Because it will make you happy,' he said."
His dad also got the apostolic pardon, a treasure of the Church that I only learned about because of my work with Aleteia and our writer who described his wife getting it on her deathbed.
The apostolic pardon is a big deal, and anyone who has said farewell to a loved one knows what a consolation it is for us who are left behind. (We can't even imagine the consolation it is for the recipients!)
We need you!
These stories lead me to the purpose of this essay. I just want to say thank you to every priest who has ever answered a sick call, who has ever rearranged a schedule to make a hospital visit, who has gotten up in the wee hours of the morning to rush to a hospital or an ER.
Thank you. Thank you so much. Because death is such a fierce and terrible enemy, and we need the graces of the Resurrection that you bring with your anointed hands. We need you to hear our loved one's confessions, to anoint them, to give our dying the apostolic pardon. We need your ministry to get us through the fear that illness brings and the grief of losing our loved ones.
I know it must be so uncomfortable -- to get up at night, to postpone a parish meeting, to live with a schedule that is literally never your own and never will be. It might have been something you didn't even think about on your ordination day -- the fact that, unlike my kids, your spiritual children will never stop waking you up at night. This is the rest of your life: availability at all times, all hours of the day and of the night. Until you're the one moving on to the next life.
And I'm sure you don't get told enough. But I want to say it for everyone. Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.
Thank you for being there to take care of our sick and dying. It means eternity to them, of course, but it means the world to us too.
