We are worthwhile

Three elderly men were travelling on a train that stopped at a station. One man asked, "Is this Wensley?" The second replied, "No, it’s Thursday." The third said, "So am I, let’s have a drink." Usually, I don’t like jokes that highlight the foibles and frailties of us elderly folk but I did enjoy that joke because it’s so true to life, at least mine.

When I was chaplain to the Sisters and residents of Nazareth House at North Turramurra, a retirement home in Sydney, the notion about being worthwhile grew in my heart. Most of the people were quite contented but some were not because they thought they could no longer do anything worthwhile.

In the past they had cared for their children or had some trade or profession. Now they could no longer do these things; as a result they believed they were not worthwhile in themselves. The idea that towards the end of our lives we are not worthwhile became abhorrent to me. I became convinced of the opposite - we could grow as persons, grow spiritually as long as we live.

This is the work of God whom I like to think of as the Divine Potter. The prophet Jeremiah says about God as a potter, "Go down now to the potter’s house, and there I shall tell you what I have to say. I went down to the potter’s house, where I found him working at the wheel. Now and then a vessel he was making from the clay would be spoilt in his hands, and he would remould it into another vessel to his liking" (Jer 18:2-4).

I love the saying, "Be patient with me, God hasn’t finished with me yet." Maybe sometimes the Divine Potter will have to start again, but I am convinced that eventually God will make us into worthy vessels.

This conviction that we are worthwhile in ourselves strengthened as I got to know the patients in the nursing section. I saw the help they needed with eating, dressing, having a bath, and going to the toilet. I understood the spirituality of accepting this, but I hesitated to speak of it to the patients because I, myself, was not dependent in this way. One day while we were still together after Mass, one of the assistants, brought it up for discussion.

One of the patients, Sadie who was unable to walk, hold a knife or fork,
shower herself or go to the toilet by herself because of arthritis, said simply that she had reached the stage where she could accept these services peacefully and gratefully. She prayed for those who did them for her. On another occasion Sadie told me that when she is put into bed at night she usually goes to sleep quickly, but if she is unable to sleep, she spends the time thanking God for the good things of her life.

Sadie has been purified by suffering and is like pure gold. (Book of Wisdom 3:5-9). The acceptance of disability such as Sadie’s arthritis, will let us enter into the sufferings of Jesus.

I heard another beautiful statement in the nursing home. Jimmy had had a stroke and made a fairly good recovery but was still confined to a wheelchair. I discussed with him why he hadn’t died and we concluded God wanted him to live longer. "Why did God want you to live longer?" I asked.

"To do good," said Jimmy.

"What good can you do?" I asked? Smiling he looked around at the other patients and said, "I can help to make them happy."

When we are young and strong we can care for the physical well-being of others. Later we cannot, but at any stage of our lives we can be loving, kind, sensitive, forgiving, honest and truthful. Even if we lack money, power, strength, even health, we can still be worthwhile, as were Sadie and Jimmy. Fundamentally we are worthwhile because we are children of God.

I would like you to share some of your thoughts and reflections with me. Please don’t leave it too late. I am 87-years-old and I think of fellow Columban Fr Edward Sherry who died in August 2006. Towards the end of his life he was cared for lovingly by the sisters and staff of the Little Sisters of the Poor, St Joseph’s Home, Northcote, Melbourne.

Shortly before he died one of the staff who was going away for two weeks said, "I’ll see you when I get back." To which Eddie replied with a smile,
"I may have changed my address by then."

Fr Gorman is 87-years-old and living in retirement at St Columban's, Essendon. He worked as a missionary in Japan.

Read Fr Keith Gorman's other Reflections