In the presence of the Divine

Stories of anointing

By Mike Traher, S.F.M.
September/October 2010

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Some of my most memorable moments of priestly mission in the Philippines were those of anointing parishioners who were dying. In the midst of everything else happening, it was on these occasions that I often experienced a profound presence of God. The stories that follow will illustrate.

A bedside wedding

I had just finished the annual fiesta mass and a number of baptisms in Nueva Esperanza, a small vibrant village located alongside a river flowing from nearby mountains. The parish choir group and I were enjoying a delicious fiesta meal in the home of one of the chapel leaders when someone came up to the table and said, “Padre, will you come and anoint our elderly neighbour who was unable to come to the chapel today because she is dying?”

“Sure,” I said, and shortly after, I left the celebration and was guided by one of the parishioners to a typical small home on stilts and covered by a thatched roof.

Inside, sitting on the side of her bed in her best dress was the elderly woman who had summoned me. Standing shyly by the foot of her bed was her husband.

“Manang,” (Older sister) I respectfully addressed her, “Would you like to be anointed?”

“Oh yes,” she said.

So I proceeded to celebrate with her the Sacrament of Anointing. Upon finishing, I asked her, “Is there anything more I can do for you?”

With a little hesitation she looked up at me, then at her husband, and then back to me saying, “Padre, we have never had our marriage blessed.”

“Would you like to have it blessed now?”

“Oh yes! Could we? It would be so wonderful before I die.”

Then her husband spoke, “Let me first change my clothes,” and he stepped behind the door of the little bedroom and changed from his old working clothes into his good shirt and trousers. Returning from behind the door, he said, “I’m ready now!”

I informed them that I did not have my marriage book, but I knew the prayers and marriage vows off by heart. I felt that they had already made their vows long ago, but what I was doing now was reassuring them that God was indeed blessing their love for each other.

I led them gently through the prayers for declaring their vows to each other and blessed them. Then it happened. A profound moment of silence came over us. We did not speak. I witnessed on their faces an indescribable glow of joy and gratitude and felt in the room an extraordinary sense of the presence of God.

As the moment passed and a short time later I prepared to leave, the woman motioned to her husband to reach for something under the bed. He did so, pulling out a big old sock from which he withdrew two fresh eggs. These he handed to me saying, “Padre, please take these as our gift of thanksgiving to God.” Their simple, meaningful gift humbled me and I have carried that experience of God and the bedside wedding with me ever since.

Lolo

His popular name was “Lolo” (Grandpa) and he had been a servant to the local parish community in a village near the coastal town of Silago, Southern Leyte. With their own pastor away on vacation, the church core group had sent for me because Lolo was ill and dying. I found him lying on a mat on the bamboo floor of his home, his head on a small pillow, his faithful wife sitting beside him. The suffering in her eyes said it all. Her husband was clearly dying. In faith they had already committed themselves into the hands of God.

How readily they celebrated the sacrament of anointing. I was deeply moved by their commitment to each other and their prayers of quiet trust in God’s holy will for them. Once again I felt the presence of God whose endearing love for these two special people was very evident. They had served their God and the Christian community so faithfully and generously for many years. When we concluded the anointing and prayers I asked them if there was anything more I could do for them. Lolo looked up at me with yearning in his eyes and said: “If only the Lord will let me live to attend our family reunion next May, then I can die happy.” It was already December.

“Let’s pray for that!” I said as I left them with a final blessing.

The months past and the following August I had occasion to go up to Silago on my motorbike. Riding up the road near the town, I saw a lone figure walking towards me, staff in hand, waving excitedly. It was Lolo, clearly alive and happy to see me.

I stopped to chat and he exclaimed with such delight in his eyes that God had indeed given him more life, “a resurrection” in his words, and he had been happily able to enjoy their family reunion. “And now,” he said, “God could take me any time.” I felt such joy for Lolo, that God had indeed given him such a wonderful gift. A few months later, he went happily to his eternal home.

The final days of Angel

One quiet afternoon while at the main parish house of the coastal town of Hinunangan, I was approached by the parish lay leaders from a nearby village to come and anoint a neighbour who was dying. His name was Angel but the name did not reflect his situation. Due to alcohol abuse, he had suffered the loss of everything including his health. Not only did he lose his family, but he was alienated from his whole community. When Angel became very sick and could no longer look after himself, the lay leaders of his village in a generous act of compassion persuaded the community to help them build a small shelter for him. Several leaders took turns to feed and look after him as he lay dying.

Called to anoint Angel, I entered his dirt floor dwelling where I found him lying on a mat covered with blankets. He was very subdued, but alert. As I heard his confession and anointed him, he acknowledged his failings so humbly. He also expressed that he was now at peace with God and filled with gratitude for the kindness of his neighbours. I found it very humbling to kneel beside him. Accompanying this poor man whose life had become so wretched, I became aware of God’s presence with us, filling the little dwelling. By way of his simple faith and the goodness of his neighbours, salvation had come to this man as one of God’s beloved. Shortly after his anointing, Angel was received into eternal life. God had pursued him and never gave up on him. I have since shared this experience many times with others, realizing that I too had been blessed by this Divine encounter.

Our common destiny

All priests and those who work with the sick and dying will have had similar experiences. I believe it is God’s way to remind us of our common destiny—to return home to the heart of God. In our ministry to the dying we are at times given the privilege of tasting something of the Divine reality. Perhaps it’s God’s way of encouraging us to continue to live our witness to the mission of Christ in the world, facing any difficulties confidently.

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