“How will you find anything in your old age?” Sirach 25:3

Below is a 2 year old post dusted off for reuse. As I re-read it, it reminded me of two things: (1) Pope Francis’ recent comments on old age and (2) a very moving video of John Fraley playing a song to his Mom who has Alzheimer’s. Here is the quote and then the video:

Harm can also be waged quietly, through many forms of neglect and abandonment, which are a real and true hidden euthanasia.

People need to fight against this poisonous throwaway culture, which targets children, young people and the elderly, on the pretext of keeping the economic system balanced, where the focus is not on the human being but on the god of money.

While residential care facilities are important for those who don’t have a family who can care for them, it’s important these institutes be truly like homes, not prisons, the pope said, and that their placement there is in the best interest of the older person, not someone else.

These retirement homes should be like sanctuaries that breathe life into a community whose members are drawn to visit and look after the residents like they would an older sibling.

+ + + +

Sts. Joachim and Anna, taken from vultus.stblogs.org

With all of the Marian themes abounding in this liturgical season, I found myself reflecting on Mary’s agèd parents, Joachim and Anna, and more generally on the significance of old age in our Catholic tradition. I recalled especially the first reading from Sirach on the feast of the Holy Family, and this line in particular:

My son, take care of your father when he is old;
grieve him not as long as he lives.
Even if his mind fail, be considerate of him;
revile him not all the days of his life;
kindness to a father will not be forgotten,
firmly planted against the debt of your sins
—a house raised in justice to you.

That reflection called me back in my memory to two places. First, to a comment Mother Teresa made when she came to visit the hospice I was working at in Washington D.C. back in 1992. She said something like this:

I was asked once who were the poorest of the poor in the United States, and I said it was those elderly men and women in nursing homes. These are so often unwanted, unloved, forgotten, abandoned, and uncared for. Let us not make a mistake. We think of hunger for a piece of bread. The hunger of today is much greater: for love – to be wanted, to be loved, to be cared for, to be somebody.

Then my memory roamed back to a conversation I had while I was in Omaha several summers ago. I was chatting with an older, “late vocation” seminarian about his experience at a non-Catholic nursing home while he was on his pastoral assignment in his diocese. We’ll call the nursing home, “Sunset.” He shared with me a set of insightful and challenging perspectives on ministry to the elderly that knocked my socks off. I told him I had to share his thoughts at some point with others. To that end, here’s a summary of his perspective:

…Every month, a priest would come and celebrate Mass at Sunset. So many of the Catholic residents wanted desperately to go to Mass every Sunday at a local parish, but had no means of getting there. Most of the residents could not drive, of course. Some had children who were fallen-away Catholics, so never wanted to go to Mass anyway. Others found themselves simply alone in their last years, for whatever reason, though some — even many — I found out were estranged from their children, or at least had a terrible relationship. Some had not heard from their children in years, were just plain old neglected by their adult children.

I used to get angry and ask myself, “Why aren’t these local parishes organizing help to get them to Mass?” I understand people are busy, pastors are overloaded with endless ministry demands and that everywhere it’s always those same 10% of the people who do 90% of the work. But if we complain about Mass attendance dropping, let’s do all we can to get all “the willing” there!

We always talk in my diocese about the pastoral priority of youth ministry in our diocese, that the young church is the future church. True enough. But if you think about it, isn’t more true that the elderly are the real future of our church? I mean, eternal life is the church’s ultimate future, and they’re about to face death after having lived a whole life as Catholics. Many of them ask for me to help them die; they’re afraid.

If the real job of the church is, in the end, to make saints, and death’s the time that finally happens or not, the church has to be there walking with them to the very end. And it’s especially these ladies I think about all the time — it bothers me — who gave so much of their time to the church volunteering over the years, passed the faith on to their children, and now, more than ever, they count on the church to help them in the last years of their life to help them prepare for death. I see them lose hope and cry over the lack of reciprocity. The church asked them all their life to pray the Hail Mary, “…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death…” But just when “now” and “the hour of death” are about to fuse, they feel abandoned. It’s a crisis and we are just not responding as a church, I think. I feel God has given me this calling, you this calling. First to my own family and then out to others. We can’t make people think church is a NGO, a bureaucracy or programs or clerics who take care of business. It’s me and you. Jesus needs us to love these people; to touch them and smile at them and wipe their drool. Like St. Teresa says, “Christ has no body now but yours; no hands, no feet on earth but yours.”

I think the American church should put more pastoral energy into the elderly, and be a sign of contradiction to a cult-of-youth society that thinks of the elderly not as powerhouses of prayer, or as sources of wisdom, or as the generation owed a debt of gratitude by the younger generations, but as a burden and useless drain on resources due the young and the strong. Stop the rhetoric of words to fight euthanasia and start using the rhetoric of deeds. Sometimes I wonder if our particular way of placing emphasis on youth in the church is not as much a faith priority as it is a cultural one we have just swallowed like Kool-Aid. I think that if we as a church cultivated a culture of reverence, service and love for our elders, the youth would be far better served than by any youth-centered youth ministry program we could devise. I’ve seen it — when youth connect with the elderly it’s electric. God shows up.

It really hit me when one lady in her early 90s told me she used to be a devout Catholic, but was so frustrated by failed attempts to get spiritual support from the church. She said that some Pentecostal women, who used to visit a few of the residents, one day asked her if she’d like to pray with them. She was delighted. After praying with her, they asked if she’d like them to visit her several times a week. She said she would love that, and with two words she summarized what she saw as the difference: They did. They would bring her things she’d ask for — toiletries, her favorite candy — and eventually brought her to the nearby Pentecostal church most Wednesday nights and every Sunday morning.

How could she say no?

Bl. John Paul the Elder

I will give Pope St. John Paul II the final word here from his stirring Letter to the Elderly:

In the past, great respect was shown to the elderly. “Great was once the reverence given to a hoary head”, says Ovid, the Latin poet.(13) Centuries earlier, the Greek poet Phocylides had admonished: “Respect grey hair: give to the elderly sage the same signs of respect that you give your own father”.(14)

And what of today? If we stop to consider the current situation, we see that among some peoples old age is esteemed and valued, while among others this is much less the case, due to a mentality which gives priority to immediate human usefulness and productivity. Such an attitude frequently leads to contempt for the later years of life, while older people themselves are led to wonder whether their lives are still worthwhile….

…There is an urgent need to recover a correct perspective on life as a whole. The correct perspective is that of eternity, for which life at every phase is a meaningful preparation. Old age too has a proper role to play in this process of gradual maturing along the path to eternity. And this process of maturing cannot but benefit the larger society of which the elderly person is a part.

Elderly people help us to see human affairs with greater wisdom, because life’s vicissitudes have brought them knowledge and maturity. They are the guardians of our collective memory, and thus the privileged interpreters of that body of ideals and common values which support and guide life in society. To exclude the elderly is in a sense to deny the past, in which the present is firmly rooted, in the name of a modernity without memory. Precisely because of their mature experience, the elderly are able to offer young people precious advice and guidance.

In view of all this, the signs of human frailty which are clearly connected with advanced age become a summons to the mutual dependence and indispensable solidarity which link the different generations, inasmuch as every person needs others and draws enrichment from the gifts and charisms of all.

Taken from pelorous.totallyplc.com

6 comments on ““How will you find anything in your old age?” Sirach 25:3

  1. Pat Beckett says:

    Awesome discussion, Tom. I have been struggling with these issues of old age, after retiring from such active ministry. Life is quieter now and has returned to a focus on simple service of family, preparing meals, caring for grandchildren, fixing things around our daughter’s house and just learning to be quiet and make more time for prayer and meditation.

  2. Dismas Dancing says:

    Welcome back, my dear brother in Christ. I am certainly not alone in having missed your wisdom, humor, and love, given life in your blogs.

    My bride and I are no strangers to the plight of the aged, especially those suffering from the ravages of dementia and Alzheimer’s. Her grandmother died in a nursing home shortly after her 99th birthday, having spent 20+ years therein, only because the management and complexity of her dementia meds became UN-manageable by family caretakers. Ever the family matriarch, the beloved “Granny” was one of the fortunate, however, since she was visited quite frequently by a large number of family. One of the most treasured photos my bride and I have is one of a group picture taken of five generations of her family. Our eldest daughter was visiting us, and she insisted on having that rare picture of five “living” generations taken with Granny before she left this earth. I remember the day well, since Granny was enjoying a day in which she experienced more than a few rare minutes of lucidity, hearing and repeating the names of our four of her great-great-grandchildren born of our marriage. She wanted to hold them and love them, smiling that mischievous, but endearing, smile, much like a young girl caressing a new and treasured doll. After the picture, she looked up, and with moistening eyes said, “Thank you so much for bringing ‘my babies’ to see me!” Granny was a woman who lived a very hard life and rarely shed a tear. This rarest of rare, great moments with her bore deeply into each of our hearts, burning eternal memories for all of us that will never die; and our understanding tears melded with hers. In a later visit with her on a Christmas day a year or so before she died (2002), my bride and I experienced a similar delightful Epiphany (of sorts) that I memorialized in a rather lengthy poem I entitled, “Vincero” (“I will win, or conquer”). I occasionally re-read it when my bride and I talk about cherished memories and blessings from Our Lord, especially during the Christmas season.

    As so many of your posts do, at least for me, my dear brother, I was taken back to not only those particular visits, but also to so many more wherein we saw Granny and a few others who delighted in having someone visit them. We discovered a wheelchair-bound lady who insisted on always being placed by the entrance, waiting (perhaps “pining” is a better word) for a son who promised—but never came for—a visit. We sought, and were provided, additional information about her. The sadness of her situation, and the relative hopelessness of her longing, touched us deeply; so we began to include her during our visits to Granny. What an indescribable joy—for all of us. Both of these magnificent ladies are long dead and in the Loving Hands of Our God. But the poignancy of your blog today involving the untold joy that can be had in sharing the tiniest touch of recognition to those who have been long-forgotten by those of us who protest our love for them, simply cannot be overstated. In fact, in the intimate dealings with the homeless that I have been privileged to experience during the past several years where the giving of genuine love is richly and immeasurably rewarded, I am reminded in your post that equally-awesome opportunities exist in working with the “unloved” elderly who desire nothing more than similar warm smiles and gentle touches. Now that I am no longer working, perhaps the inspiration of the Holy Spirit generated by your post will lead me by the hand to rediscover that God-created intimacy of love which you so eloquently encourage us to share. Somewhere nearby awaits a poor woman or lonely old man, staring longingly at an entrance door to a place that, for them, has become a prison, waiting desperately for that visit promised, that never comes: from a son, brother, daughter, or great-granddaughter offering a simple hug, a tender touch, a smile, and perhaps an “I love you!” “Here I am, Lord: Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go, Lord, if You lead me….” (From the hymn, Here I Am, Lord.)

    • As ever, Dismas, you lift my spirits with your eloquence and depth. How am I not surprised that you wrote such a poem, Vincero, to honor a loved one? I feel my blogs are a springboard for your own rich posts, and how blessed am I, among others, to be a recipient. Thank you for sharing this here.

  3. oneview says:

    This is a beautiful, relevant reflection on where the Church is putting her emphasis. I passed this along to all my friends who work in pastoral ministry, including team members of MIssionaries of Mercy, and the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th annual Ministers of Compassion. See details on the 2015 workshop at http://sjeciowa.org/the-power-of-palliative-care Blessings!

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