© 2014 Victor R. Claveau, MJ
Harry and his wife Alice entered my Catholic Bookstore a few years ago. As I had not met them previously, I introduced myself as the proprietor and asked if I could be of service.
Harry told me that he needed a bit of help in deciding which prayer book he might be interested in buying. I judged him to be in his late fifties when he mentioned that he had not been to Mass since he was about seventeen.
I commented that forty plus years was heck of a long time to be away from the Church and asked what had prompted him, all of a sudden, to consider the purchase of a prayer book. Nine months previous, he said, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and had been given six to eighteen months to live. His time was running out. He explained that he was now on heavy doses of medication to help him cope with the excruciating pain, thought maybe some prayer might help where the narcotics had failed. Then he surprised me with a probing question, “Why do you think God gave me cancer?”
I reared back a step, then caught my wits, and said, “God did not give you cancer; life gave you cancer. St. Augustine once said that if we celebrate birth, we should also celebrate death, God has given you a gift.” At that, he became upset and sarcastically replied, “Didn’t you hear what I said, I’m dying of cancer and you call it a gift.” “No sir,” I said, “the cancer is not the gift, the gift is knowing when you are going to die. You have time to confess your sins and make amends for all the hurts you have caused others in your lifetime. You have time to tell your family and friends that you love them. You have time to share your life with others and possibly leave your life’s testimony recorded in some way. You probably now try to live each day to the fullest possible and appreciate life more than you ever have before.” “Yes,” I said, “God has given you a gift. Please try to make the most of it. Most importantly, God is giving you the time to reconcile yourself to Him.”
Harry’s wife drifted away to another part of the store, realizing perhaps, that God had brought Harry and I together in this trying time in their lives. Harry and I spoke of many things over the next 30 minutes or so.
He shared his thoughts about his family and his worries as to how his death would affect them. He wanted, in some way to prepare them for the struggles that lay ahead. Most importantly, we talked about his reconciliation with God, our Father in Heaven. Harry wanted a prayer book because he was frightened of death.
I told Harry of the story of the Prodigal Son and explained that God is a loving God, and had been patiently waiting, over these many years, for Harry’s return home. I shared the Gospel message of love and God’s revelation on the afterlife, that death is nothing more than a transition. “Death,” I said, “is like going from one room to another, with our Lord waiting with open arms to receive us on the other side of the door. Death is not the end, but a new beginning; one that should be looked forward to with joyful anticipation.” Our relationship with God and the teaching of the Church has a direct impact on our view of death.
It was Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, the distinguished Boston physician and father of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., Justice of the United States Supreme Court who wrote:
“So far as I have observed persons nearing the end of life, the Roman Catholics understand the business of dying better than Protestants. They have an expert by them, armed with spiritual specifics, in which they both, patient and priestly ministrant, place implicit trust. Confession, the Eucharist, Extreme Unction, these all inspire a confidence, which, without this symbolism, is too apt to be wanting in over sensitive natures…. I have seen a good many Roman Catholics on their dying beds; and it has always appeared to me that they accept the inevitable with a composure which showed that their belief, whether or not the best to live by, was a better one to die by” (Over the Teacups [1891]).
I also shared the teaching of St. John of the Cross, that in the end we will be judged by our love. In order to enter into eternal life with Christ, we must perfect our love to the point that we love God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength, and love our neighbor at least as much as we love ourselves. Only then will we be worthy to spend eternity with God.
Harry said that he had led most of his life without really thinking much about God and asked how could he make up for lost time? The first thing, I explained, was that he should seek out a priest to hear his confession and to have a spiritual advisor during the period of time he had left. Secondly, to attend the celebration of Holy Mass and receive our Blessed Lord in the Holy Eucharist, for it will only be with the grace of the sacraments that he will be able to remain true to God and to get through this difficult time. I also recommended that he study the Gospels to learn as much as he possibly could about Jesus as it is difficult to love someone you don’t know. I gave him the telephone number of one of our local priests and he promised that he would call the following day for an appointment.
As they were about to leave, Harry stopped at the door, turned to me and said, “I lost my best friend in a traffic accident two weeks ago, and the first thing that crossed my mind, was that I didn’t have time to say goodbye. Thanks.”
I never saw Harry or Alice again, but I prayed that God would prepare them both for the journey and have mercy on Harry’s soul.