Some of us are truly blessed in that we are living in the same parish, or at least a close neighboring parish of the one we lived in when we were first starting our married lives. I realized the other day that there are more than a few families we know today who are actually the fifth generation of families we knew a million years ago. For instance, my 7-year-old grandson is going to school with the great-grandson of a woman I worked with on various church committees many, many years ago. There are families in our parish that we have known for an eon. (Well at least since the 60s.) Perhaps a member of our family went to school with someone in their family, made a Cursillo with them, worked with, or even dated. More than a few times we have rejoiced, celebrated and cried when Grandpa and Grandma of these friends went on to their heavenly reward. As they have cried and rejoiced with us.
Thoughts of this web of relationships warm my heart like a down comforter. It is a blessing to me to know that my young grandchildren, so vulnerable, so small, so innocent, are surrounded by people we know to have similar values and believe the same things. When I think of all these wonderful connections we have, the precious folks who have gone before us, the “Church Triumphant,” the ones who paved the way for us and who, we believe, continue to pray for us and guide us on our way.
It is a comfort to me to look around and know that one of the young folks here in the pews — the “Church Militant” — will be the teachers, mentors and advisors to my grandchildren as they grow and are asked to make important decisions in their lives. Ready?
And for much of this comfort, we have Paul to thank.
The “Apostle to the Gentiles” was really the “Apostle to the World.” Paul, who never met Christ, became Our Lord’s greatest press agent, one-man advertising service, and publicist. If it weren’t for Paul, Christianity might consist of a small group of folks cowering in a cave outside of Jerusalem.
I don’t think I ever really “got” Paul until my grown-up years. I mean my really grown up years. Like my 70s. What is interesting, and actually vitally important to me as I live the last quarter or my life and experience some unexpected and not always pleasant things, is a concept Paul addressed several times.
Paul reminds us that our bodies are earthen vessels. Just as a cup or dish, no matter how expensive or lovely, might be dropped on the tile floor and blasted to tiny pieces, so our bodies will bend and break. I just wish the bending and breaking didn’t hurt so much.
Paul also compares our bodies to a tent. (If you have ever camped out, that is definitely not a comforting thought.) But then we read, “We have a building from God, not made with hands” (2 Cor.5.1-2). Good news!
We know Paul had an “affliction;” and lay people and theologians have speculated for 2,000 years as to what the affliction might have been. He often writes of his struggles with loneliness and discouragement. At the end of the letter to Timothy, he writes of being “poured out like a libation” and says, “I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4; 6-8).
Paul also discussed in detail how our suffering and pain can be used to join with Christ’s pain on the cross for the salvation of the world, an idea that Pope John Paul II explained in his encyclical, “On the Christian Meaning of Human Suffering.” To me, at age 70-plus, this is the most important of all of Paul’s writing. That our suffering is not in vain. So he reminds us, at this time of year when hope is sometimes hard to come by: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice! The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4: 4-7).
Oh, yes. The next time you are on your knees, say hello to your mom for me.