Not Fair 2

Several years ago I had an operation and spent a couple of weeks recuperating at a place for elderly and sick Maryknoll priests and brothers, near our seminary in New York. One of the things that impressed me very much about these old missioners was how they automatically helped each other despite their own infirmities. For example, at dinner time some who themselves had trouble walking would be seen pushing the wheelchairs of others who needed assistance.

They were men who had led tremendous lives as missioners in china where they experience war persecution and jail; others had begun new missions in rugged areas of Africa and Latin America. They had fed the hungry, clothed the naked and visited the sick so often over so many years that it had become an automatic response in many of them. They would be like those on the right hand of the Lord at the judgment who would ask him:

"'When did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? When did we see you a stranger and make you welcome, lacking clothes and clothe you? When did we find you sick or in prison and go to see you?' And the King will answer, 'In truth I tell you, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me.' " —Mt 25:37-40

The spontaneous response of these old missioners was done without a great deal of theological reflection on our incarnate Lord coming to us through others. Rather, from habitually answering the call for charity, their love of God spontaneously and automatically showed itself in their love and kindness for others and how they treated them.

I heard a story about a very good priest I had me years ago who died recently here in the Philippines. It's a good illustration of how we gradually car build up that automatic response to Christ's invitations for our help and love.

It seems that one night this priest received a telephone call about 11 p.m. It was a very poor woman he knew from a slum area who was asking if he might drive her son to the hospital as the boy was seriously ill. The priest immediately started to think of all the reasons why he couldn't go: "I'm old and pretty sick myself!" "Couldn't they wait until the morning? It's late!" "Isn't there anyone else available?"

But, realizing that it was probably very serious, he agreed and got dressed and drove the boy. As they were riding along, the little boy asked him, "Are you God?"

Taken aback, he answered, "No — but why do you ask?"

"Well," the boy replied, "I felt very sick and afraid back there and when I asked my mother how we could get to the hospital, she said that God would provide — and here you are!"

It was a good reminder, the priest admitted, and had come through the mouth of a child: we're not God, but he does use us as channels of his grace and, in a sense, he "needs" us. The priest resolved that whenever any sort of reasonable request for help came to him, he would try to follow through on it right away, for that is how God comes to us through other people in need. Often there is no time for any discernment but the most basic: that help is needed and I'm available.

Like this priest, to the extent that your re­sponse becomes consistent and relatively auto­matic you can probably expect several things to happen in your life.

First, that you'll get more calls for help in the middle of the night! Second, that you'll gradually) be able to handle such inconveniences with in creasing equanimity and perhaps in time ever recognize the Lord coming to you through the person in need. And finally, that you'll become true disciple of our Lord, having an abiding sense o his peace and joy and love, even in. those `difficult times' -- like when the phone rings at midnight with a call for help.