There are times in a priesty guy's life where he goes to a bedside with his heart in his boots because the person in the bed is someone who he has grown fond of. I wonder what on earth I will say. True the Church gives us formularies and books and prayers which are great, but often I think there is something more that needs to be offered.
Something else should be said. Surely the right words, spoken at the right time, in the right tones would make this all better. Sunshine and rainbows would ensue and there would be no more suffering, and every tear would evaporate. But no… I leave with an icky sense that I should have done more and said something else. Where are the prophets who can ‘up-skill’ me in priest craft?
Fortunately there are some leaders in the world today. People leave us inspired and hopeful. Every so often someone gets it right and for a time that is far too brief there is a chance for us. One such prophetess captured my angst exquisitely when she said to her weeping nation. “But even when we had no words, we still heard yours, and they have left us humbled and they have left us united”.
This ministry thing is a two way street. It’s not just about me trying to minister, it's about the person in the bed ministering to me to say nothing of their loved ones at the bedside who are … Well, they are simply magnificent! And even when the person in the bed is breathing their last, or has breathed their last, I am always left humbled and enriched. Perhaps the secret to this priest business is not just about trying to minister to others, but to begin by graciously accepting others' ministry to me.