I’m sure most of you noticed on Friday that the B.C. Courtof Appeal upheld the so-called “right to die” of a woman in the Okanagan.
You won’t catch me preaching on the right to die, simply
because almost every Catholic already understands that there is no such right,
and that both suicide and euthanasia are gravely wrong
But what about something a little closer to home? Have you
ever heard an elderly friend or relative say they wished they could die? Have
you ever said it yourself?
At first glance, it seems a terrible thing to think or say.
Yet in the first reading we just heard Elijah ask God that he might die, and
God doesn’t seem to get upset with him. So what is the Christian view of
wishing for death—is it wrong?
I have a book that gives an answer—a six and a half page
answer, to be exact. Since it takes Dr.
Germain Grisez, a respected moral theologian, that long to respond to the
question, I sure won’t succeed in the length of a homily. But in short, he says
“yes and no.”*
Yes, it is wrong to wish for death ”by accepting and
endorsing an unreasonable emotional desire to die.” If one judges that life
isn’t worth living, and that pain is to be escaped at all costs, one “commits
suicide in one’s heart,” Dr. Grisez says. Too much thinking of this sort can
lead to neglect of our health or even to actual suicide.
But no, it is not wrong when we wish principally for life,
but as part of our wish for life we welcome death also, as the gateway to the
life to come. In this sense, “every faithful Christian, hoping for heaven,
rightly wishes for death.” With this attitude, we can forego useless medical
treatments or measures that prolong life unduly.
It is also quite acceptable for the terminally ill to seek
adequate relief from pain, even at the risk of shortening life. Many of those
who advocate euthanasia are unaware of the advances in palliative care in
recent years, which have done a great deal to help people die without undue
suffering
Sometimes, though, the elderly or the sick desire death because
they think there is nothing left for them to do on earth. Elijah felt like
that—he’d done his best, and his best wasn’t good enough. Israel had turned
against God despite his zealous preaching, and he was the only prophet who
hadn’t been killed. What was left but to lie down and die?
Yet if you read to the end of the story, after the Lord
restores his strength, Elijah heads to Mount Horeb for one of the closest
encounters man has even had with God. He carries on his mission, anoints a new
king for Israel, and finds a suitable successor in Elisha.
Whether we’re depressed or just plain old discouraged, it’s
very easy to confuse how we feel today with what God has lined up for us
tomorrow. To quote Germain Grisez again “God is a loving Father who always
knows what is best for us. We would not remain alive if there were no good
reason for us to be here.”
Today I want to suggest one of the best of all reasons for
us to be here—because healthy or sick, happy or sad, we are able to eat the Bread
of Life.
And that includes those who can’t come to church. I’ve never
directed a Sunday homily to our parishioners who are housebound or in care
facilities. But today I’m thinking very specially of them—this small group who
eat the living Bread each week without being able to gather with us around the Lord’s
Table
By receiving Holy Communion every week, these men and women can
find meaning and purpose, even when they can no longer do the things they once
did for others—and what a lot of good they can do for the rest of us, who are too
busy sometimes to look beyond the Bread we eat to see the Saviour It has
become!
United to the Lord in the Eucharist, they pray not only with
us, but for us
We talk a lot about Sunday Mass being the high point of our
week. But it’s hard—we’re in such a rush to get to church and to get out again.
Those who are forced by circumstances to accept a quieter pace can spend time with
the Lord after they have received Him at one of the nursing home Masses or
during a Friday visit from Father Xavier, myself, or one of our Extraordinary
Ministers of Holy Communion
Speaking of those dedicated Extraordinary Ministers, it’s
time to say something about the service they provide our elderly and sick
parishioners. Week in, week out, and in some cases over many years, they bring
the Bread of Life faithfully and devoutly.
In many cases, their
ministry not only sustains people in pain or old age, it helps them prepare
properly for death. No doubt you all
believed when you heard Jesus say in today’s Gospel “whoever eats of this bread
will live forever.” But you can be sure his words “one may eat of it and not
die” have an extra-special message for those whose natural lives are drawing to
a close.
We must be grateful to our Extraordinary Ministers, these unsung
heroes who so generously assist the priests in sharing the Bread of Life beyond
the walls of our parish church. Just as important, we should ask whether our
faith in this Sacrament is as strong as theirs—for surely their weekly
sacrifice of time and energy demonstrates a very strong faith in the Eucharist
and its saving power.
Let’s remind ourselves often of those worshippers who are
the active part of our parish family that we do not often see. Jesus comes to
them in the Blessed Sacrament every week as a sign of His faithfulness to all
of us; their faith gives us an example of perseverance and trust.
We are called into a
union of prayer with our parishioners who are sick or confined to home; that unity
should be strengthened every time we eat the Bread of Life. And like them, and like Elijah, we should
trust that God will sustain us too, in all of life’s difficulties.
____________________
* Germain Grisez, Difficult Moral Questions, vol. 3, 196-202.
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