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.