Because we feel small and fragile
Over Christmas, our families lost some wonderful people due to long-time illnesses, my cousin John's wife Deena and Randy's Aunt Rita. Myles was clearly affected by hearing the news both times. We gave him some of the usual assurances, but we knew they wouldn't really help.
Less than a week later we were at Mass for Epiphany. It was a Sunday night Mass at Rosary Church in Hong Kong as we were staying there that weekend. As I stood for the Dismissal I looked at Myles who remained in the pew. He was on his knees, hands in clenched in prayer, and quietly crying. I thought maybe it was because I had disciplined him earlier in the Mass. I asked him what was wrong. At first I didn't understand his answer. He repeated it.
"I'm praying God lets me skip seventy-seven," he said so desperately.
Skip seventy-seven? I wasn't quite sure what he meant at first. Then I remembered that Rita was 77 years old.
When earlier today I read Pope Benedict's prayer from earthquake-ravaged Abruzzo(via Via Amy Welborn), I immediately thought of Myles' wet face and shrinking posture that evening. So small and fragile he was considering the terrifyingly large and powerful unknown death. He wasn't in immediate danger of death, just recently touched by it. The prayer is a beautiful catechesis.
Less than a week later we were at Mass for Epiphany. It was a Sunday night Mass at Rosary Church in Hong Kong as we were staying there that weekend. As I stood for the Dismissal I looked at Myles who remained in the pew. He was on his knees, hands in clenched in prayer, and quietly crying. I thought maybe it was because I had disciplined him earlier in the Mass. I asked him what was wrong. At first I didn't understand his answer. He repeated it.
"I'm praying God lets me skip seventy-seven," he said so desperately.
Skip seventy-seven? I wasn't quite sure what he meant at first. Then I remembered that Rita was 77 years old.
When earlier today I read Pope Benedict's prayer from earthquake-ravaged Abruzzo(via Via Amy Welborn), I immediately thought of Myles' wet face and shrinking posture that evening. So small and fragile he was considering the terrifyingly large and powerful unknown death. He wasn't in immediate danger of death, just recently touched by it. The prayer is a beautiful catechesis.
We entrust our loved ones to you, Lord,
Knowing that you never take the lives of your faithful, but transform them,
And that at the moment the dwelling places of this our earthly exile are destroyed,
You prepare an eternal and immortal one for us in paradise.
Holy Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
Hear the cry of pain and of hope
That rises from this community harshly tied by the earthquake.
It is the silent cry of the blood of mothers, fathers, young people
And also innocent little ones that rises up from this land.
They have been snatched from the affection of their loved ones,
Welcome them all into your peace, Lord, who is God-with-us,
Who is the Love able to give life without end.
We need you and your strength
Because we feel small and fragile in the face of death;
Help us, we pray, because only your support
Can help us get up and, with trust, take each other's hands,
And start out again on the journey of life.
We ask you this through Jesus Christ, our savior,
In whom shines the hope of the blessed resurrection. Amen.
Comments