Today was a funeral for a beloved parishioner who died unexpectedly.  He was older, but I did not know he was ill.  When I heard the news that he had died, I started to make plans to serve at the mass to pray for his peace and rest, and to support his wife and family.  I did not let anyone else know of these plans, however, as I know how unreliable my health is right now.  And I knew there was a chance I would not be able to be there.   That is the state of things right now.  Rather than risk disappointing people, I am just not making plans (or making them known).

The disappointment I feel is in my own heart.  Wanting to be more present with my parish community, wanting to serve with my beloved priests, and wanting to express my call to service in ways of, well, serving.   Yet my body is in a state right now with this Scleroderma, that from day to day, I don’t know what I will be able to do.   Most days I can cope, I can push through, I  can keep it quiet within me.  This last Sunday was one of those.  I was able to serve at Mass and even preach the homily.  After Mass, I stood outside and greeted people, prayed with them, blessed rosaries, scapulars, and other articles of prayer and devotion.   Towards the end, my wife stepped in, took my hand, and just led me inside. She could see it on my face. The pain, the struggle to breathe, and the knowledge that I would just keep going in the heat and humidity unless she helped me. And she was right.  As I got back into the sacristy and took off the vestments, I just sat down in the chair in front of the fan, trying to breathe better, letting my heart settle, and I began to really feel all of the pain then.    

It’s funny how the grace God gives us in the moments of serving allows the body to do more than what it could on its own power.   “My grace is sufficient for you” is the resounding voice in my heart.  Yet the good Lord has also given me a wife to help me, and His grace comes to me through her at times, too.

The last couple of days, the humidity has been so hard to breathe through. My lungs are stiff and not functioning at full capacity due to the progression of the disease.  That causes even more fatigue and pain.  My fingers, hands, joints, knees, ankles, and hips all flare with pain to the point that it is hard to hold onto things (like a chalice) or walk normally without limping.  It will pass; it will subside eventually, until the next flare.  But that is the reason I had to miss the funeral today.  I want to serve and to be present with my community, yet I don’t want to be a distraction either to such an important moment in the life of a family.  So instead, I choose to pray.  The life of service, I am learning through all of this, is not only in the physical presence of the community, but also in the spiritual life of prayer.  

The offering of love is an offering of suffering.  John 3:16 is a famous Gospel passage which says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son”.   It is this giving that is done in total love, which also has wrapped up in it the suffering of Jesus for the salvation of the world.  The Father knew what this giving would mean.  As we look upon a crucifix and see the body of Jesus, we should be reminded that this suffering is for love.  The love of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – God’s love for us.  As members of the body of Christ, we too can offer ourselves in love, in suffering, united to Jesus’ cross for the salvation of souls.  

The cross was not the end of the story, as we know.  The cross, the suffering, was the means through which grace was poured out upon the world. Through the cross, we have the resurrection – the glorification of humanity to be united to the Divine for all eternity.   I am ever grateful to God for this season of suffering. It is teaching me so much about how to follow Jesus.  Not only His life and teachings, but also to follow Him to His cross.  

St Paul says,

“We are … fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed in us” Rom. 8, 17-18. 

Don’t waste your suffering. Embrace it with the grace God offers. Suffering apart from Jesus Christ is just pain and suffering.  But suffering united to Jesus Christ is redemption, grace, peace, joy, and the strength to endure.  It isn’t fun, for sure. But in the end, it is worth it – for the “glory that is to be revealed in us”.

-I am still a “Happy Catholic Deacon”.