“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…”

These words were spoken by St. Martha to Jesus shortly after her brother, Lazarus, died. The story is told in the eleventh chapter of John’s gospel. It is a story that I can relate to personally. It is the story we hear in the gospel today on the Memorial of St. Martha.

At first, these words sound like an accusation. In fact, the gospel says that when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him. She did not wait for him to arrive, but instead went out to greet him and perhaps to ask something of him. Martha reminds Jesus that whatever he asks the Father for the Father will give him. Undoubtedly Martha was asking that her brother be brought back to life on earth. The gospel account ends with Martha’s witness that Jesus is, in fact, “the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” Martha, in the midst of great sadness is able to declare her faith and hope in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. If only, we were all so faithful.

I have heard this gospel passage many times this summer. At Our Lady of Guadalupe, the families who come to the parish to have a funeral Mass for their loved one who has died rarely pick out their own readings. At OLG, we often use this gospel during the funeral Mass. I have heard the pastor preach his homily on this gospel numerous times (we average about a funeral per week here). Each time I get hung up on the phrase that Martha went out to meet Jesus.

Anyone who has lost someone that is close to them knows how difficult a time it can be. It is a time that will test anyone’s faith, no matter how rooted in their faith he/she is. It is a time when many people feel that God has abandoned them. It is hard to understand why a loving God would let bad things happen to good people. Sure, when we are not in the moment and can think rationally, it is easy to respond, “God allows the bad things to happen so as to bring about a greater good.” We know that in our heads, but in our hearts the words mean very little.

This morning started like most other mornings. I was sitting in the office in the rectory checking emails and preparing to begin my Spanish studies with the Rosetta Stone software. The pastor then walked in the door with a tired look on his face. Normally the pastor would be walking out the door to head to the parish office and not returning at this hour. I noticed a cup of coffee in his hand and his habit draped over his arm. Seeing the habit, I understood that he was returning from a hospital visit.

The pastor told me that he was called to the hospital for a young man (mid-twenties) who is a member of the inter-parroquial Spanish youth group that sometimes meets at our parish. While working construction five days ago, the young man fell off a roof and hit his head. The family called for a priest this morning as they were preparing to remove him from life support. The pastor told me that he anointed the young man and prayed with the family. I could tell that the early hour wake up call was not the only thing tiring out this priest.

We went about our day and I reminded myself to pray for the young man and his family during the Mass at noon. As I was sitting in the chapel, I watched many new faces showing up to Mass. Normally we only have 8-10 people at the mid-day masses but now the chapel was almost full (20-25). I guessed that from the looks of the people who arrived they were friends of the young man from the hospital. Then, during the prayers of intercession, I heard a lady pray for the eternal repose of the young man’s soul.

I must tell you that I was struck deeply by their display of faith. The pastor told me that the people who arrived at the Mass were, in fact, members of the family. Only hours after losing their family member, they were going out to greet Jesus. In their time of sadness and despair, they were going to Jesus and asking him to be with them now.

After Mass, the pastor and I returned to the rectory and were discussing the sad news of the young man’s death. The pastor told me that he had invited the family to the Mass and said that he would offer it for the young man. I kept thinking about the words to the gospel for today. I thought about the amazing faith these people had displayed. I know the next few days will be difficult for them, their friends, and the parish community. However difficult the times may be, we should all follow the example of this family (and St. Martha) and go out to greet Jesus in our time of need.

I realize that this story is perhaps one of the more personal ones (not for me, but for others) I have written about. I hope no one minds me telling the story. I have left names out for a reason. I just wanted to share with you the impact this display of faith had on me. It helps me to realize that when things get tough (no matter how big or small they may seem), we should go out to greet Jesus and not wait for him to come to us. We should turn to him and boldly proclaim, “I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

Please pray for the repose of the soul of the young man and his family.

Pax Tecum,
Tom