Lord Help Me Hear

 

San Pietro in Vincoli

Lord, Help Me Hear

     I spotted him out of the corner of my eye, his shock of white hair unmistakable. He was hunkered down in the last row notebook in hand. The years had been kind to him, or so it appeared. As I went to find my seat I remembered fondly the many wonderful, albeit sometimes long homilies this retired priest shared with our parish family.  Several years ago this parish was in a tough transition. A beloved pastor called to a new assignment by the bishop, a new pastor installed coming in on the trails of this loss, never really  had a chance. So there we were, a church without a priest, sheep without a shepherd. Fr. Padavick stepped in many weekend masses to shepherd us and we were so very grateful.

    As we walked out I happened to see him in the sacristy.

“Hello Father, great to see you.” I greeted him knowing he would have no idea who I was. He placed a hand to his ear and I repeated louder.

“Hi Father, great to see you, are you still preaching?”

“Me? Oh no no,  I’m deafer than a doornail, can’t hear anymore.”  He shared with that twinkle in his eye, the light of Christ still very much active in him.

“Wow that’s too bad, we sure did enjoy your homilies”, he thanked me and we went on our way after pleasantries’.

    That was the last I thought of it until today, and the readings for today. If he was deafer than a doornail, what was he doing in church one might wonder. How much could he get out of it? As I pondered on this at mass I remembered when my husband and I had the good fortune to travel to Italy a few years ago. The first thing we did after checking into the hotel was wandered up this staircase to a huge church and entered to take in the beauty of this magnificent church. There was a mass going on in one of the small chapels, so we gravitated over to the pews. Naturally the mass was in Italian, and we couldn’t understand a word, but we knew exactly what was going on through the ritual. Prayer, response, pause, kneel, stand, communion, all this ritual almost exactly the same in any Catholic church around the globe. We discovered later it was St. Peter in Chains. (San Pietro in Vincoli)

    You could have just as easily asked us why did you stay if you didn’t understand the language? Mostly because the mass isn’t just heard, it’s prayed. It’s amazed me to think that a man who could not hear perhaps heard more than those that could. He heard with his heart, and after years of obedience he knew not to turn his back to God, even in his losses. What a wonderful witness and great reminder to me, to be ever open to the word of God. Even and especially if I can only hear it in my heart.

God the Grower

 

    So many times as a wife and mother (or anyone for that matter) we wonder if our words fall on deaf ears. The sheer volume of things we say on a daily basis can be mind boggling. Yet we must have faith, that these seeds we are planting will at some point reach fertile soil and bring fruit in due season. We must remember we only do the planting but God does the growing.

One of the best opportunities I had to explain this was to my grandson last summer. Our community has a community garden and we decided to try our hand at growing some produce. Some of the things we planted were root vegetables, their growth not clearly visible. I was able to share the lesson that just because we don't directly see something doesn't mean God's not working on it. Just like our words, he will make sure the message of our heart achieves His purpose in His timing. It brought back memories of my own sons gardening experience. When he was about my grandsons age I let both he and my daughter choose what they wanted to plant in our garden. My daughter chose watermelon and my son chose potatoes. The whole summer he whined about his potatoes. Why is hers growing and not mine he would ask. Yours are growing under the ground. When it's time we will dig them up. At the end of the season we dug up those potatoes and enjoyed them as a side dish with dinner.

    Many times we complicate things. I’ve learned over the years to pare down the message, to focus on the most imperative point and let God do the rest. Today Jesus reminds us of this simplicity in His message to the disciples. The Our Father is the most important, most complete prayer. It is not the amount of words we use but the frequency with which we turn to God in all matters big and small throughout our days that matter.