The Feast of Stephen

Yesterday Dec 26th my little group of friends was scheduled to bring the Eucharist to those Catholics with the misfortune of being in the hospital on Christmas.  As we rode the elevators, I thought about some comments of a few mentors who introduced me to this ministry.  While much focus was given to bringing the physical presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, my Deacon and Priest friend also focused on the importance of bringing Jesus in companionship and brotherly love. In other words we are all called to be His hands and His feet.  The deacon said that often times, no one comes to visit these people and they are starved for some simple conversation and attention.   As I rode the elevator up I wondered where it was that he got the impression that so many were looking for that.  It was a rare experience for me.  I kid you not, the following then happened...

For it being the day after Christmas, a surprising number of people did not want to receive, but this was tempered by the genuine enthusiasm and gratitude of those who did receive.  At my very last stop though, I experienced something new.  I had one last woman to visit in room 448.  It was a two bed room, but there was no one in the first bed.  The lights were off, though there was that grey illumination that comes from the overcast sky.  Behind the divider curtain slouched an elderly woman who watched me approach.  I asked her name, and it turned out that she was not the person I was looking for.  On a whim, I asked if she was Catholic and explained why I was there.  She was not Catholic.  She then engaged me in a conversation that  was filled with the fear of a person confused as to where they were and what was happening.  In the beginning, I was seeking a break in the conversation, or an opportunity to extricate myself (I had to serve at Mass within the hour).  But  when she denied me every opportunity I thought "so what if I am late, they'll get along fine without me."  And so I started to speak with her and tell her a few stories about my Christmas, and the cruise I just returned from.  She lit right up, had long moments of lucidity and laughed at my stories.  She complained of being hungry but couldn't sit up to eat or peel the banana that was on her breakfast tray.  So, I helped her rearrange her pillows and sit up, peeled her bananas and told her another story while I helped her to eat.  In the end as I left she thanked me for 'being the only Human contact' she has had.

On the elevator down I realized that today was the feast of St. Stephen -- the first Deacon and martyr in the Church.  The Diaconate was created to serve because of inequities and human failings  in the early church; 'the Hellenists murmured against the Hebrews because their widows were neglected in the daily distribution'.  And now, on the cusp of my 40th birthday I ask for clarification on this aspect of the diaconate, and the Holy Spirit provides.  How remarkably easy it would have been for me to turn around and leave this woman the second I learned she wasn't who I was looking for.  And yet... she was who I was looking for after all.