I’M DYING TO FIND OUT

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “I’m Dying to Find Out.”

Do you have any questions about the other side of death that you’re dying to find out about – but not yet? What happens after we die?

SACRAMENT OF THE SICK

Two months ago at a meeting of the priests and deacons here at St. Mary’s, we talked about picking some Sunday in the new year to preach on the sacrament of the sick at all the Masses.

We said: “Pick a gospel where Jesus does some healing – and use that as a launching pad for speaking on some key points about the sacrament of the sick.”

So we chose this Sunday – because besides preaching and teaching, it mentions Jesus going around healing the sick.

Yesterday, I sat down and put together half a sermon on this – only to say to myself, “It’s somewhat clear, but something is missing.” Then the thought hit me about a question I think about from time to time: the “I’m dying to find out” question. I believe it’s connected to the sacrament of the sick question.

Like everyone there are times I think about death. Like everyone who gets older, thoughts about death come more often than when I was younger. Like everyone getting older, my body isn’t what it used to be. No kidding!

So let me go there – and let me tie this into the sacrament of the sick.

EXTREME UNCTION

When I was a kid, the sacrament of the sick was called, “Extreme Unction”. Unction means an anointing.

When you were seriously sick and you saw the priest arrive at your house or hospital bed, you knew you were dying. We saw this in movies and in real life. “Call for the priest.”

When I was a kid, they used to hand out a card for your wallet with the printed words, “I am a Catholic. In case of an accident, please call a priest”. Then there were the jokes: “I am a Catholic in case of an accident.” Or the one, “I am a very important Catholic. In case of an accident, please call a bishop.”

Or the one about the icy, messy night and this guy is in a serious car accident and the police arrive before the ambulance and the guy is stuck in the car and he says, “Can you call a priest?” And the priest comes out on the icy, messy night only to find out the guy is Jewish. So the priest asks him, “Why did you ask for a priest?” And the Jewish guy says, “I wouldn’t bring a Rabbi out on a night like this?”

Back then the sacrament was called, “Extreme Unction” – a description by Peter Lombard who died in 1160. The stress was preparation for death. The stress was an anointing for the journey into eternal life. The stress was forgiveness of sins – to become clean, purified, for the journey to meet God – to experience the Beatific Vision – seeing God as God is. We get cleaned up for important meetings.

I am dying to find out what that will be like – but not yet.

So the main stress from the 12th century till the 20th century was preparation for death. We see this in theologians like St. Albert the Great, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Bonaventure and Duns Scotus. The Council of Trent – 1545 – 1563 – did not say that danger of death was a condition for validity – but in its discussions, it talked about this sacrament “only to be for those who have come to grips with death.”

Preparation for death was the main stress. Then the Second Vatican Council changed the stress from death to life. People are living longer. People have hospital stays and recoveries more frequently. Make it a sacrament to help people who are seriously sick – or people who are going to undergo a serious operation or treatments – to bring God into the picture – to bring prayer and faith – the presence of Jesus into the process of healing as well as getting older.

Many people have been helped with this different stress – that the sacrament is for the living who are seriously sick. Some people only see this sacrament as an immediate preparation for death. I see it as both.

How do you see the sacrament of the sick? It’s for you. It’s one of the seven sacraments of the Catholic Church?

Most priests in the United States have this green book. They keep it in their car or on a shelf right inside their door. It has prayers for sick calls in it. Priests also keep this little metal cylinder for the sacred oil - for this sacrament of the sick right next to the ritual book. Then right with the oil and the book is a small gold pyx or box for bringing communion to the sick.

In this parish Father Pat Flynn is tremendous. He visits the hospital almost every day and takes most of the Catholic sick calls at Anne Arundel Medical Center. The rest of us are very, very grateful for his dedication to this ministry. The priests in parishes in this area and the Eastern Shore just over the bridge are very grateful that St. Mary’s does so much for Catholics who are in Anne Arundel Medical Center. It makes their life easier – especially with the shortage of priests – and distances to travel.

Father Pat also organizes a wonderful group of lay people who visit Catholics who register as Catholics at the hospital. They visit them and bring them communion and check if they want to receive the sacrament of the sick. They also do this in nursing homes as well as for the homebound. This is a great parish.

At present only a priest can anoint someone with this sacrament – because the church wants to also provide people the possibility of the sacrament of reconciliation or confession – and only priests can hear confession. Various people are pushing for deacons to be able to administer this sacrament of the sick. They anoint people when they baptize. Many deacons do hospital work – but the church has not made that change.

We would like to stress this weekend that if Father Flynn or one of us provides this sacrament during the day – we don’t have to go back the next day or that night if a person gets worse. We don’t want to appear lazy or unconcerned for the pastoral care of people – but the work load of being a priest can be very heavy. That’s why Father Pat Flynn goes during the day in the first place.

We are also aware that part of the sacrament of the sick is the help and assurance it gives to those around the sick bed – the family and friends of the sick person – as we all pray together for the sick person or the dying person.

Now let me say a few words about the mystery of death.

Even though there has been a change in the stress of this sacrament from death being very imminent to a help and comfort for the living – to get through a serious illness or operation – I still see a deep connection between this sacrament with death.

BEING A FATHER OR A MOTHER

Most of you have the great life experience of being a parent – bringing a child or several children into the world.

I miss that. Those of us who have not been parents can only imagine what it’s like to be a parent.

Becoming pregnant – the news – the holding each other – the comments – the congratulations – the wondering what it’s like – the days becoming weeks, becoming months – as the mother to be sees her body change. The beauty of a pregnant woman – one of the world’s great scenes – along with a full moon on a clear night on the ocean – fall colors – the Alps, the Grand Canyon.

Then the birth of a child – coming out of the dark into the light. “It’s a girl!” “It’s a boy!”

Then all the moments that follow. Ah sweet mystery of life.

DEATH MAKES LIFE WHAT LIFE IS

Life is such a powerful reality – because we have a death day besides our birthday – whether we acknowledge it or not.

Life is such a powerful reality – because we don’t know our death day.

Life is a mystery, because life has term limits – because we don’t know the ending of the story – the last chapter of the book – as well as the question, “Is there a sequel?”

I’m dying to find out – but not yet.

Why did God do all this the way God did all this? I’m dying to find out – but not yet.

It’s the same with love. If the other person had to love us – if the other person couldn’t say, “I want to leave” or “I want out” – or “It’s over!” relationships would not have the tremendous power and significance they have.

As priest I have not experienced births – like parents have – but I have experienced deaths.

Powerful stuff. Painful stuff. Mysterious stuff.

In July of 1966, just after I had full faculties as a priest, I was helping out for two weeks in Monticello, New York. The phone rang at 12:30 in the night. I dressed and drove quickly to the local hospital. Two brothers from Paterson, New Jersey, were driving too fast after going to a bar after going to the track, and crashed.

I asked the nurse in the emergency room if the person under the brown sheet of the wheeled stretcher just below me was alive. She didn’t say a word. She just pulled back the sheet and I saw a man’s face. It looked like someone shot him in the face with a shot gun. It was from the horrible car crash.

I anointed him and said some prayers over him because he had just died and then went to his brother Ray who was the driver. – very banged up – drunk – and a mess – and I anointed him before he went into surgery. The next two weeks I visited Ray every day in the hospital – not knowing what I was doing.

That was the beginning of lots of experiences of death – not just family deaths – but painful – as well as deaths that were blessings.

I saw first hand the importance of the church’s presence, Christ’s presence, prayer’s presence, in moments of deep pain – especially death.

I sat with various people in the parish – one to one – and heard them tell me their thoughts about death – which for each of them was only a short time to come.

I said to them, “You’re lucky! You’re going to know before me what’s it like after death. I’m dying to find out. If there is nothing, we’ll never know. I pause after saying that – letting that sink it – but if there is something, then you’ll soon know. You’re lucky. You’re blessed. Then I say, “It’s our Christian faith that Jesus will take us across the dark of death – into whatever is next.

Then I ask them to tell me their faith stuff. To me it’s often just like the pregnancy stuff – all the wonderings before the birth of a child.

Then I say: the baby doesn’t know the great mystery on the other side of the womb – parents waiting for them with great smiles, amazement, joy, kisses, hugs, celebration. I see the moment after the womb of the tomb the birth into eternity and God welcomes us into his smile, his eyes, his love, his embrace.

The dying person sometimes talks about worries of mistakes in one’s life – if they haven’t accepted forgiveness yet.

Then I try to anoint people with the words of the scriptures. All our sacraments are a mixture of symbol, scripture and prayers. When it comes to what happens after death, Christ for the most part doesn’t talk about a scale – where our eternity depends on whether our good outweighs our bad. Like the Good Thief, we can steal heaven at the last moment. We can enter the Garden at the last hour. Yet, why wait till then to live the great life of Jesus’ Kingdom, Dream, Vision?

I would tell dying people scripture words like the ones we heard from Isaiah in both the first reading and today’s gospel. I would say something like: “Picture all the people who die each day – completely in shock like a new born baby – but in reverse – moving from the lights of life and finding themselves in the dark on the other side of death – and suddenly they see a great light – the Great Light – God.”

Thomas Merton has a great poem on this – which he wrote just after Ernest Hemingway died. If I remember correctly, he pictures people climbing this big staircase in the dark – heading for the light.

Or I would tell folks the words of Luke 15 where Jesus tells us the three great stories of the Lost Sheep, Lost Coin, Lost Son – when found, brings great joy to God the Finder. Amen. I’m dying to find out if I’m right about all this – but not yet.