04/17/2018
Acts of the Apostles 7:51—8:1A
Stephen said to the people, the elders, and the scribes: "You stiff-necked
people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always oppose the Holy Spirit; you
are just like your ancestors. When they heard this, they were infuriated, and
they ground their teeth at him. But Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit,
looked up intently to heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the
right hand of God, and Stephen said, "Behold, I see the heavens opened and
the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." But they cried out in a
loud voice, covered their ears, and rushed upon him together. They threw him
out of the city, and began to stone him. The witnesses laid down their cloaks
at the feet of a young man named Saul. As they were stoning Stephen, he called
out, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he fell to his knees and
cried out in a loud voice, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them";
and when he said this, he fell asleep. Now Saul was consenting to his
execution.
Priests are often summoned to the
beside of people who are seriously sick and dying. It is obviously a moment of
grief and pending loss, but it can also be a time of grace and peace. How so?
Usually, the last sense a dying person loses is their hearing, even though
their eyes may be closed and they cannot eat or swallow or smell or touch. I
invite the family and friends present to take turns approaching the dying
patient and tell them they love them, and, if necessary (and it usually is),
ask forgiveness for any past hurts. I explain that after someone passes such
immediate contact and communication will be impossible and to take full
advantage of this moment of grace.
I find it really sad, indeed almost
tragic, when family members wait till someone is almost dead to call the
priest. It’s very understandable that they wait till the last second to call
me, because they believe they will upset the dying person or scare them by the
sight of the priest. (Some of us priests are pretty scary looking.) But they
have also deprived them of the duty to make peace with people they have walked
through life with: to say “I am sorry,” or to say “I forgive you.” That’s why
you see the traditional letters on a tombstone, “R.I.P” which stand for the
Latin words “Requiescat in Pace,” or “Rest in Peace.” People who die will not
rest in peace unless they first make peace with people they have hurt. If you
want to watch a movie version of this truth, see “Sixth Sense.” The reason
little Cole says, “I see dead people,” is because those dead people did not die
in peace – they carried some unresolved problem to the grave – and so they
cannot yet “requiescat in pace.”
In the Acts of the Apostles, we are
all summoned to the bedside of a dying man, namely, St. Stephen. He is not in a
hospital dying of cancer, but on the streets of Jerusalem and being stoned for
believing in Jesus. As the rocks rained down, do you recall his final words?
They were very powerful and filled with peace; Stephen said: “Lord, do not hold
this sin against them.” Like I suggest to family and friends when someone is
about to depart from this life, so St. Stephen made peace with people, even his
persecutors. He forgave those who offended him, those who wanted to kill him.
It is only because St. Stephen died in peace with people that he was able to
rest in peace after death, “requiescat in pace.” I can’t help but believe that
hearing those words of forgiveness didn’t strike a chord in Saul’s hard heart,
and that later Jesus would make that chord of forgiveness the first note of a
symphony of a saintly life. You’ll recall how Saul saw Jesus on the road to
Damascus and heard the Lord ask: “Why are you persecuting me?” Saul should have
sought peace with Stephen while he was alive.
Today, take two minutes to try to
think of anyone who has hurt you or whom you have hurt. This is easy to do if
you have ever loved another person. Human beings are broken beings, like a
cracked Ming vase. If you get very close to one of them, their jagged edges
will eventually cut you; they will hurt you and you will hurt them. Don’t
enclose yourself in a cocoon of self-preservation like an Egyptian mummy, but
open your heart to love others and risk being hurt. But then be humble enough to forgive and ask
forgiveness.
May I suggest that if by chance you
are at the deathbed of a family member or friend, seek to be reconciled with
them like St. Stephen. Tell them you love them, tell them you forgive them, and
ask them to forgive you. Only then will they rest in peace. And so will you.
Praised be Jesus Christ!
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