IS THAT ALL THERE IS? 

TWO WOMEN WHO

HOVER IN MY MEMORY

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 32^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, C, “Is That All There Is?  Two Women Who Hover In My Memory.”

Today’s three readings, Machabees, Thessalonians, and Luke, Old Testament and New Testament, challenge us to look at life and death, faith and meaning, resurrection or nothingness.  Big topics!

Is this life all there is?

How many of us - at a funeral - or a sleepless night - or - when we’re about to have a major operation think: “What happens if I die and there is nothing after this?”

Then we laugh - or smirk inwardly: “Well if this is all there is, we’ll never know till after we die and then we’ll never know.”

Uh oh! That triggers one more, “Uh oh!”

Doubts! We’re allowed to have them.

Doubts! In fact as wisdom figures often point out: if you don’t have them, you’re not thinking.

Doubts! So they are real. They’re under different rocks along the way - especially tomb stones.

And I would expect as we move towards the end of the year, we should expect end of life questions. 

We who live in the Northern Hemisphere, if we’re in a four season locale, are reminded of these topics and themes by nature as well. The trees along the roads and on our streets - announce with each parachuting leaf: time is almost up. Neighbors who are neat are out there with their rakes and black plastic bags. They are telling us: winter is coming. For some reason cemeteries in November seem louder than usual. And sometimes we wonder if the obituary column is longer around this time of the year than at other times.

TWO WOMEN

As priest - these questions pop up - perhaps - more in my mind - than for other folks. The request to do a funeral - or to visit someone who is dying - are part of a parish priest’s week. Before I came to Annapolis to do parish priest work, I did quite a bit of parish missions. Part of that work was to visit the sick of a parish - especially those who were homebound or in nursing homes.

Two women still hover - keep lingering -  in my memories - whenever I begin thinking about these end of life issues - as well as when I drive down November or December highways as we head towards the end of another year - church and calendar years.

I met these two women in different states. For the sake of privacy I’ll keep the first name of both these women anonymous.

The first woman lived in a farm house. A parishioner, a man who brought me to see this lady, told me as we were getting out of the car that the lady had about 2 months to live. We had asked the pastor to line up people in the parish who know who the shut-ins were. The driver visited this couple once a week and brought them communion.

Hearing him say, “two months to live” triggered an “Uh oh!” in me.

The man knocked on the door. He then opened it and walked right in. This told me that  he had been here many times. The woman was sitting right there on a couch. She was yellow. She was filled with cancer. It was eating into her liver.

The woman told us that her husband was in the bedroom - not feeling that well. He told her, “Relax! I’ll check him out.”

He then walked towards the back of the house to see her husband.  The idea was to give her some time to chat and pray and be alone with me. We sat and talked. We sat and I listened.

With a bit of nervousness - after she told me she didn’t have much time left, I asked her, “Are you ready?”

She looked at me - as if surprised a priest would ask her such a question.

Then she said directly and calmly. “Ready?  In less than a month I’m going to see the shining face of Jesus.”

Then she told me that Jesus has been the one who had been with her all these days - loving her husband - raising the kids - dealing with cancer. “Jesus has been with me all the days of my life.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

When we were finished  I went to the back and asked her husband if he was well enough to have communion with his wife - in the living room.

Then we went back to the front of the house and the four of us joined hands in prayer. Then I broke the communion host in half - and gave one half to her and the other half to her husband. That’s something I like to do when I give communion to couples in a situation like this.

As we headed back to the car - I said to the guy doing the driving, “Wow. What a neat couple. What serenity. What faith. What hope. What trust.”

I’ll have never forgotten her face. It was shining!

The second woman whom I have never forgotten was in a nursing home - in another state. The two priests in the parish asked me to see her. For some reason, I sensed problems here. But they said nothing.

I went by myself.  It was quite a distance to the nursing home. They gave good directions. She was the only Catholic in the nursing home.

She was in her room.  Her only question was, “Am I going to hell, Father?” She asked that question at least 7 times in the first 7 minutes. A nurse’s aid in the corridor heard the question and I could see her face wince.

I stayed for about 20 minutes. She didn’t hear me when I said, “Jesus loves you. Jesus forgives you everything.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I said words like that. They didn’t take. She kept with her, “Am I going to hell, Father?” 

I realized she had memory loss and was frozen in that one question: “Am I going to hell?”

As I drove back I felt lonely. Helpless! I felt angst and yuck.

That evening at supper, both priests asked me about my day and the different nursing homes I visited. And then came  the real question, “Did you see so and so? Were you able to deal with her, ‘Am I going to hell?’ question.”

At that I felt they had the same feelings of disappointment.

They told me that she has been asking that same question of every priest that goes to see her for over 7 years now.

We talked a bit more about all this. I have no idea what we ate - only what was eating us - our wonderings if  church or preachers - or family - who or what - got her into this frozen lake of worry. We wondered if we or anyone could have helped her back then sometime - before she got into this state.

By now she’s surely dead - and I’m assuming she’s laughing with God.

Yet,   to be totally honest, let me say this: “Of course, I don’t know - really down deep - I don’t know how all this works. I know the words and the teachings and the scripture stories.”

She’s still alive for me - in that small nursing home - somewhere there in the back of my mind.

And the obvious question: will this happen to me?

And the obvious question: have I done this to anyone?

And the obvious prayer: “Lord, make me an announcer of your copious redemption.” That’s the motto and the charism of the community I belong to - the Redemptorist Congregation in the Church.

Yes - that’s our motto - and I wince every time someone says, “Redemptorists? Aren’t they the ones who used to preach fire and brimstone sermons?” 

And I respond: “I hope not. Our motto is, ‘Copiosa apud eum redemptio.’ ‘With him there is fullness of  redemption.’”

So I hope I can preach that message to those who still have their minds - and I pray for those in nursing homes or at home who are in the November or December of their lives that they have  serenity of Spirit - trusting in the Lord walking with them if they begin to feel they are going through a dark valley.

GOSPEL

Ooops. Well, I better get to a conclusion - after talking about conclusions - in this homily.

The title of my homily is: “Is That All There Is?  Two Women Who Hover In My Memory.”

Today’s gospel can get us in touch with the reality that some people think about these questions.

Some people think there is nothing after this life.

Some do.

Some people get nervous about second marriages - and what happens if there is life after this? Will my first spouse be waiting for me and say, “I thought ….?”

Today’s gospel tells us about the Sadducees - who use an old anecdote about a woman  who was married to seven brothers. She buries them all off - so the question arises:  “Who will be her husband if there is life after death?”

It’s their way of challenging Jesus and anyone who believes in resurrection after death. 

Jesus tries to stretch their minds and their hopes by telling those who will listen that they have no clue to what the next life is all about. The next age will not be about marriage and re-marriage - but about being celebrating eternal life with God and with all who have gone before us - Moses, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob. 

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily is: “Is That All There Is?  Two Women Who Hover In My Memory.”

Right now I’m thinking of my sister Peggy who has just died. I have faith that her life includes resurrection and eternal life. Being a religious, I believe in Jesus’ promises about those who chose the kind of life a religious nun or priest chooses has eternal value.

Having read today’s readings - I also suspect that triggered Peggy Lee’s 1969 signature song: “Is That All There Is?”

The song’s message compared to Jesus’ words about all that is to come - seems empty and insipid. Peggy Lee’s refrain is, “If that’s all there is, my friend, then let’s keep dancing, let’s break out the booze, and have a ball.”

Peggy Lee near the end of her song says that if that’s all there is, it will be disappointing. I was disappointed with the end of the song - because I think Christianity - with the promises of Christ - urges us to live life to the full - both now and for all eternity.

Interesting - in Greek theology - eternity is described as the perichoresis - from the two Greek words - “peri” - “around” and “chorea” meaning dance - so heaven is the Great Dance or the Divine Dance - in which all are invited into this great dance with the Trinity. I picture my sister Peggy and all those who have gone before me - in that dance - and so as Peggy Lee says, “let’s keep dancing” because this here life is not all that there is. Amen.

OOOOOOOOOO

Painting on top: Mary Cassatt, Young Woman in Green Outdoors in the Sun, 1914