Presence and Power

Two stories echo in me this week as I ponder their spiritual meaning. They both hint of a divine presence in the events of ordinary life. And thus these stories suggest a powerful love in the world that enhances the value of our lives.

The first was told in a Sunday homily Father George Salzmann, a chaplain at Harvard University.  It concerns Cardinal Basil Hume, Archbishop of Westminster and the spiritual leader of Great Britain’s Catholics, who died last week at the age of 76. Known for his openness to all people, he was especially beloved among members of his faith community.

Once, as the Cardinal told it, he went to visit a woman on the occasion of her hundredth birthday. As he came into the bedroom where she was resting, he noticed on the wall the portrait of a large eye. It caught his attention because there used to be one in his own home when he was growing up.

Though such an image may seem strange now, it used to be common in places where people were forbidden to have crucifixes and statues as evidences of their faith. Instead, they would place on the wall the large eye as a sign of God’s presence.

But the eye did not stir in Cardinal Hume welcome memories. That’s because, when he was a boy, his parents had a rule forbidding him to eat between meals. And one time he saw on the kitchen table a shiny apple ripe for the taking. As he picked it up, he happened to look at the eye and he was sternly reminded of his parents’ command. Thus he felt forced to put the apple back.

When he mentioned this memory to the old woman, she shared with him the associations that the eye stirred in her. “When I see the eye,” she said, “I think that God loves us so much that He does not want to let us out of His sight.”

Cardinal Hume benefited from this shift in associations and felt thankful for being  spiritually enriched by this lesson given him by one of his flock.

The second story is told by Jim Wallis, an evangelical Protestant minister and leader of Call To Renewal, a coalition of religious groups working for social justice.

Jim Wallis’ mother recently died at an advanced age, but not before taking part in a family drama that carries deep religious meaning, not only for those present but for others with whom they have shared it.

When word came to family members in May that their mother was dying in a Detroit hospital, they made plans to gather at her bedside. But Jim’s sister, Marci, was in advanced pregnancy and lived a three-hour drive from the city. Other family members doubted the prudence of her leaving home. Despite the risks, however, she determined to come and be with her mother.

So, packing her three young children into the car, Marci set out for Detroit. If labor were to begin, she hoped that her infant could be born in the hospital where her mother was being cared for.

Arriving there, Marci did, in fact, feel labor pains and was admitted to the hospital. Meantime her mother appeared to have entered the final stages of her illness with her other family members present and expressing their love for her and praying with her.

On the hospital floor above, the daughter gave birth to a baby girl. She then told the doctors that she wanted to be with her mother and show the new baby to her.

Against all hospital protocol, a procession formed – – new mother and baby in a bed surrounded by doctors and nurses – – and they proceeded down one flight and into the dying woman’s room. People filled the hallways to see the procession pass.

The baby, named Hayley Ruth after her grandmother, was presented to the dying woman who received her joyfully. Shortly after, the woman died. Her last words were, “I’m very happy.”

Those present, family members and attending professionals alike, wept tears of sorrow and tears of joy. Some felt in this series of events God’s presence and the drama of love, death, and birth that express the deepest meaning of human destiny.

Richard Griffin