The morning before my mother's surgery I stayed overnight in the hospital with her and she woke up about 5am or so. I didn't sleep well and I have the Catechism of the Catholic Church on my phone so I began to read it, asking God to help make me more knowledgeable of what His Church taught so that I could be able to make difficult decisions on her behalf if I had to. (I'm my mom's primary decision maker on end of life issues if she is no longer capable of doing so herself.) To say the least I could not sleep well. As I'm sitting there reading the Catechism on my phone mom startles me with her voice, "What are you doing?" I kind of smiled because here I am, three hours from her surgery and I'm reading about death and the dignity of the life of every human person.
I responded, "I'm reading from the Catechism." I always enjoy sharing the beauty of the Catholic faith with others so I immediately asked her if she wanted me to read it to her. Then I immediately realized reading to her what I was reading was probably not a good idea. "I assume you don't want me to read to you what I'm reading."
"What are you reading?" mom asked.
"I'm reading about what the church teaches about death," I answered.
"You're right, I don't want to hear about that," she replied back.
I believe it is important for lovers to have and keep secrets. And in a very real way my mom and I are lovers. The conversation we shared in the hours preceding her surgery is one that I'll cherish, pondering it in my heart, for life; and for death.
But I would like to share this. Oh that we should all be given a moment in which we are prepared to enter through the womb of this world (death) as we are about to experience our 'new birth' into the next. To have received Jesus sacramentally in the hours preceding our death, in the Sacraments of Reconciliation, the Anointing of the Sick, and most especially in the Sacrament of Himself, the Eucharist, is a treasure onto itself. Pray that we should all be so fortunate.
Small 't' tradition holds that St Joseph died in the arms of Jesus. This is why he is the patron saint of a 'Happy Death.' If my mom would have not made it through surgery on January 7th, 2012, she would have died in Christ' arms too; and no less real than Joseph did. Actually she would have experience Christ in a more profound and real way than St Joseph did. She would have died with Him really, truly, and substantially present, body, blood, soul, and Divinity, in a way that not even St Joseph could have ever experienced. Wow! What a testament to the loving God we serve. May His name forever be praised.
One of our reflections on this reality was that we agreed that we were so thankful to have been given the grace to live and die, knowing the fullness of Christianity, as revealed by God through His One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. My comment to my mother was, "I don't know how one can go through these types of events in life without the fullness of Christ and His Church." My mother's beautifully weak, nodding head agreed.
My life's work, as is true for every Catholic Christian, is to help people learn what the Catholic Church teaches. It is up to each person to accept or reject that same Church. That acceptance has nothing to do with me. That is between them and their creator. It's all a matter of graceful cooperation. But I'm far better equipped to continue my mission of presenting this church accurately and faithfully because of this night spent with my mother. What it teaches I didn't invent, nor did any mere human man; a divine man did. And in the moments where faith is tested, there is great love, a few laughs, and many tears. Scripture says Jesus wept. And so do we. Scripture doesn't say why Jesus wept, but my lover and I know why we did. I slept in a hospital room to give something of myself to my mother and I got much more in return. That's grace. In our living and especially in our dying to ourselves, do we find ourselves. My mom helped me to find more of me. But I can only know myself in knowing Christ. Christ reveals myself to me by revealing what it truly means to be human. Mystery. And grace.
We have all eternity to rest. For now, there is work to do. My mother did make it through surgery and she's recovering very well. I guess she has more work to do. I do too. All of us Catholics do.
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