The
hospital visitor approached the bed where an old woman lay hunched in a foetal
position. Her small frame, hidden under the bedclothes, trembled as she cried
silently, covering her face with the sheet. Gently the visitor touched her. “What
is it?” she asked. “Are you in pain?” The woman shook her head and sobbed. “I’ve
been so bad,” she said, “I’ve been so bad.” The visitor sat by her bed, stroked
her hand and tried to console her.
Alone in the crowded ward, the fear of death had overwhelmed the old woman and as she recalled her sins and failures, her terror of the judgement that awaited her was unbearable. “The bonds of death encompassed me and destructive torrents overtook me, the bonds of Sheol tightened about me; the snares of death were set to catch me” (Ps 18:4-5). Weakened with age and pain, all thought of a loving, merciful God had gone. Her broken, battered spirit wrestled with demons as a sense of hopelessness overwhelmed her completely.
How many people, especially the old and lonely feel bereft and forsaken at this crucial stage of their lives? Weakened by disease and sickness, sunk into a bleak existence and unable to pray they feel alienated from the hope that sustained them in other difficult times. The promises of a loving God seem like a mockery as depression sucks them into an ever deepening darkness. Looking on we, friends or family, may be driven to ‘rage, rage against the dying of the light.’ How can God allow this to happen to this good man or woman, this loving mother, this devoted husband, this cherished companion? A mocking voice echoes within us, “Now where is your God?”
Now is the time to stand firm, to be like those four determined men who climbed up on the flat roof, made an opening and lowered their paralysed friend at the feet of Jesus (Mk 2: 1-12). “Seeing their faith”, the faith of his friends, Jesus healed him. “Child, your sins are forgiven” (Mk 2:5).
This was the first, most essential step, the forgiveness of sin, the healing of the soul. Our first prayer for the sick and suffering must be for that deep inner peace that assures them that they are forgiven, that they are loved and accepted. Physical pain or drug induced nightmares can fill even the holiest person with terror.
If we take our stand with strong faith and great patience - that stranglehold will be released and the peace which is the Lord’s gift will strengthen the sick or the dying man or woman. We become a channel of God’s peace, a sign of forgiveness, a witness to hope.
Sr Redempta Twomey is assistant editor of the Far East at St Columban’s , Navan, Ireland.