Joy & Sorrow

My iPhone flashed two notifications on Wednesday morning around 11 a.m. One was voicemail from my friend Johnny alerting me that white smoke arose from the Sistine Chapel, meaning a new pontiff had been selected by the conclave of Catholic Cardinals, a cause for great joy. The other was a text message from my friend Susie bearing news that a husband, father, engineer, and volunteer at my parish in Washington died early in the morning, leaving behind his wife and three children. I ached for their loss, so abrupt and wrenching -- a heart attack at age 52.

To be Catholic is to be present to both these situations. To be Catholic is to rejoice and to mourn. To be Catholic is to celebrate and grieve. To be Catholic is to enter into the full breadth and depth of the human experience, from the incredible conception of life in the womb to the natural end of life whenever that may be, and to embrace all life's experiences with joy.

In this moment of conflicting emotions I stood with my cell phone in hand and thought briefly that a priest must have these sorts of experiences often -- funeral in the morning, youth conference at night; counseling the downtrodden, then celebrating a wedding; providing viaticum and anointing the sick, and then baptizing newborns into the Church. The Catholic faith provides Sacraments that speak to the human need for celebration at key moments. We celebrate birth with baptism, the age of reason with Eucharist, turning to the Lord with Reconciliation, the stirring of the Spirit with Confirmation, love and vocation with Matrimony or Holy Orders, entrance into eternity with Anointing of the Sick. Our year includes feasts for saints and special occasions. Catholics are comprehensive.

The only way anything makes sense is on a foundation of hope. Cancer, heart attacks, car collisions, aneurysms, accidents -- all are agonizing as they afflict individuals, individuals who are loved by others and loved by God. I cannot put words to the grief of losing someone instantly as the family from my church did on Wednesday, but in the depths of our loss, Christ is on the cross. Suffering is our road to Calvary, the loss of loved ones our cross, but rather than be hung to die, we can sit at the feet our crucified Lord, for Jesus wept and died for us and with us. As Lent draws close to the Triduum, the hope of the Resurrection gives meaning to our existence.

The most repeated phrase in the New Testament is "Do not be afraid." A life beautifully and fully lived conquers fear. The man from my parish who died lived truly and fully, producing a faithful and flourishing family with his wife, giving meaning to the world through his work, and coming to know the Lord intimately. Suffering has no sting. Death has no victory. We know the end of the story. God wins. And we have reason to hope, even in moments of despair.

Pope Francis assumes leadership of the Church today in his installation Mass. What a time to shepherd God's people! There is great potential and great challenge to the Church, and here is one man asked to sacrifice, to listen, to lead, and to love God's people with the spotlight constantly upon his every action and word. Where to begin?! Our new holy father began by asking the faithful of the world to bless him. Not the other way around. He in turn blessed the people, but the significance of recognizing the Body of Christ in the people of God must be appreciated. We are pilgrims on the journey together.

Pope Francis stopped the motorcade on the way to his inauguration Mass this morning to bless an onlooker with a physical disability. We all would do well to follow his example of humility and hope, so that when moments of sorrow arise, when moments of joy spring up, we can share with the complete gift of ourselves. To be Catholic is nothing less.