January 22, 2010
The Second Half
One body
BY DEACON JIM AND ANN CAVERA
Barely a week ago, a devastating earthquake abruptly changed the lives of hundreds of thousands of Haitians. Even as we write, a few fortunate survivors are still being rescued from the rubble. As many as 200,000 may have perished, leaving behind friends and relatives who must try to piece their broken lives back together.
This Sunday in the reading from I Corinthians, two lines speak to our connection with the people of Haiti: “If one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it; if one part is honored all the parts share its joy.” Those few words bring to mind what it means to be part of humanity. In the aftermath of destruction, we are most aware that the world is a single fragile community. We are reminded that what happens in one part of the world can easily happen in any part of the world. The pain of the people in Haiti is our pain and we pour out our hearts as we mobilize resources to ease their suffering in any way possible.
The magnitude of the pain of the Haitian people has focused the world’s attention. Yet, the pain experienced by the people in Haiti is remarkably similar to the pain of people anywhere who experience destruction and loss of loved ones. Over the last three weeks, our parish has lost seven men. For some, it was the culmination of a long illness, for others it was unexpected. From this past Saturday to Thursday, we will have hosted four of the seven funerals. The pain of loss within these families is as devastating as the pain of loss within any family.
As a community of believers, we have been given the promise of eternal life by the death and resurrection of the one whose birthday we celebrated just a few short weeks ago. Jesus gave us the opportunity to live forever and, as a result, we became a people of hope. Sometimes it is hard to feel this gift of hope in the midst of tragedy, great loss, and overwhelming grief. But hope has not left us. We saw signs of hope in the images from Haiti of people reaching out to others — the teenage boy who stopped to feed an old woman sitting outside the destroyed nursing home and the lady who invited all the people in her neighborhood to her home, the only one left standing. Even in the midst of chaos there are signs of God’s presence.
During these last few weeks, in between our recent funeral liturgies, Jim had the privilege of baptizing five children. In each liturgy the lighted Easter candle overshadowed us; a white garment was placed on the child — a white cloth was placed on the coffin. Water from the font was poured over the head of the child — water was sprinkled on the casket. We read in Matthew 28:20 “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” The promise of Jesus’ real presence echoes the name Emmanuel given to him in the infancy narrative. Jesus is with us in tragedy and in joy. He is the source of our unending hope.
Deacon Jim and Ann Cavera are former residents of Evansville; their award-winning column is a regular feature of the Message. Contact them at www.catholicseniorspirit.com.