I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me and remind me that God calls me to be present to hurting people when it's convenient and when it's inconvenient. My friend and I had talked recently; I knew that this friend was hurting. Even though my feelings were ambivalent, love won out. I lifted the receiver, and the adrenaline of God's love coursed through my body, readying me to listen carefully. I prayed "Come, Holy Spirit" and trusted that Wisdom would guide me.
By the time I hung up the phone, I knew beyond a doubt that I'd made the right decision. By the grace of God, we two friends had been a blessing to each other. We'd laughed, cried, shared deeply, and strengthened each other for our walks through the dark of life's mysteries.
When we choose to be open to the summons of Divine Providence, we no longer believe in chance or coincidences. The mail, phone calls, drop-in visitors, unexpected events, all bear the unmistakable stamp of God's Presence. Yet God leaves us free. We can choose how to respond and which direction to go in, and God waits with anticipation to see what we will do with our gifts and choices. Whatever directions we take, whatever choices we make, if we go with a combination of prudence and love, God's Will will be accomplished in us. And, every time we choose to be a blessing to others, they bless us in return.
When we want to do God's Will, do you know what can trip us up the most? Our love for order and our dislike for change. In our daily lives, we usually have a plan, a pre-arranged pattern that we follow. When something unexpected happens, or someone unexpected appears, we usually have an instinctive desire to squelch the unexpected so we can go with the flow of our normal routine. We say to ourselves "After all, it's my life, isn't it? Shouldn't my schedule come first??" But - didn't we promise to put God and God's concerns first?
This love for order and permanence extends to what we think we're capable of doing. Somehow we think that by a certain age, our personalities are permanently set in one mold. How many people say to themselves "Oh, I can't visit that person in Hospice. I've never done that." Or "I've never spoken in front of a large group - I don't think I'd be good on that committee." But God doesn't look for the talents we think we have. God looks for those who'll say "Yes," and then floods them with the gifts and talents of the Holy Spirit.
Pope Francis says that the Church - meaning members of the Church - needs to be a hospital for the hurting. I remember numerous trips to the hospital, either to give birth, or to have surgery, or to visit an emergency room. In most circumstances, as soon as I came through the hospital doors, staff members were ready to give me their attention, to listen to me, to make a careful diagnosis, to give me medicine, to relieve my pain. I had no idea what was going on in their private lives. These staff members' mission was to forget their own problems, maybe their own schedules, to care for their patients. Can we forget our own problems and pre-arranged priorities to pay attention to the people who come through the doors of our lives?
St. Catherine of Siena was sensitive to God's summons even when it came through information about strangers' lives. She lived in Italy in the 1300s, a time when the Government was repressive, and punishments were cruel. She heard of a young man, Niccolo di Tuldo, who made some remarks against the ruling regime while he was drinking. He was summarily arrested, convicted, and condemned to die. Niccolo despaired. If God allowed the government to execute him for such a small offense, how could God be good and just? Catherine's acquaintances told her Niccolo's story and she sensed God asking her help. God wanted to work through Catherine to reassure Niccolo that God loved him.
"Catherine went to visit him. Niccolo calmed down, made his confession, and received communion for the first time. In the midst of their meeting, Niccolo asked Catherine to be with him at the moment of his death. She kept her promise, escorting him to the place of execution. Catherine tells that he smiled at her, saying 'Jesus' and 'Catherine.' She caressed his head as he laid it on the block (for decapitation)." (from "Praying with Catherine of Siena," by Patricia Mary Vinje, St. Mary's Press.) At the moment of Niccolo's execution, Catherine had a vision of him being welcomed by God in Heaven.
Today, Sr. Helen Prejean ministers to condemned prisoners, and walks with them to their place of execution so that they can look into her kind and loving eyes at the moment of their deaths. Because of her experiences wth these men, and her subsequent research, she has learned that often our legal system convicts the innocent. So in addition to her ministry with condemned prisoners, she writes, gives talks, and works at the U.S. and world political level for the abolishment of the death penalty. She also counsels families of murder victims. She says
"I saw the suffering and I let myself feel it ....I saw the injustice and was compelled to do something about it. I changed from being a nun who only prayed for the suffering world to a woman with my sleeves rolled up, living my prayer."
She adds "I watch what I'm doing to see what I believe."
Many of us will never live as heroically as St. Catherine of Siena or Sr. Helen Prejean. But we can pray to become more aware of Divine Interruptions in our lives, Divine Summons to break our routines and find Jesus in unexpected places. We can intentionally decide that our homes will become houses of hospitality, or hospitals for the hurting, where all are welcome. We can be good listeners who walk with people through their good times and bad times.
We can be like the little boy who gave Jesus a basket-full of only a few loaves and fishes, and then watched in awe as Jesus fed hundreds of people with them. We can offer Jesus the small fragments of our lives, and watch him multiply our loving words and actions far beyond what we think is possible.