Margaret was a loner. She had been that way for as long as anyone in her large, extended family could remember. Margaret seldom attended family gatherings. She wasn’t close to any of the aunts or uncles or cousins. There was no known wound or catastrophe that led to Margaret’s distance from others. She was, simply, a very private person. Nonetheless, one member of the family called her to check on her from time to time.
Because of that, one day recently he got a phone call from a funeral director near where Margaret lived. That phone call was the beginning of the emergence of a beautiful story.
Margaret had died…in her home…alone—like she had lived. As family claimed the body and arranged for a simple funeral, they discovered Mona and the story.
Mona had worked in the same office with Margaret for years. Through those years, from time to time, Mona asked Margaret to go to lunch. Margaret always said no. She just didn’t socialize with anyone in the office. Nonetheless, Mona sweetly persisted in offering the simple hospitality of a shared meal.
Margaret continued to demure.
Then it was announced that Margaret was retiring. What was unknown was that she had terminal cancer and was getting too sick to continue working. On Margaret’s last day at work Mona asked her one more time, “Would you like to go to lunch?”
This time Margaret said yes.
Somehow, during that lunch, Margaret and Mona began a friendship. Margaret told Mona of her cancer. Mona began to bring Margaret some food, take her to doctor’s appointments, and clean her house. She cared for her when Margaret could not care for herself. She walked with Margaret through her final path of pain.
Phillip Follows a Prompt
My pastor told this story during his homily last Sunday. Margaret’s family connection was Father’s dad. He knew the story to be true. Father tied this story in with Sunday’s readings. It works equally well with today’s readings.
In today’s account from Acts, an angel tells Phillip, “Get up and head south on the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza, the desert route.” Phillip gets up and goes. Once he is close to where God wants him to act, the Holy Spirit tells him, “Go and join up with that chariot.” In the chariot was an Ethiopian official who was reading Isaiah.
I’m guessing the Holy Spirit gave Phillip some help with how to start a conversation, “Do you understand what you are reading?” Phillip asked. The man responded, “How can I, unless someone explain it to me?” So Phillip got in the chariot, started with what the man was reading and found a way to explain God’s great love for us through Christ—in such a way that the man responded, “Look, there is water. What is to prevent me from being baptized?” Phillip baptized him, and “the Spirit of the Lord snatched Phillip away.”
That’s a pretty amazing story—especially since the Ethiopian was both eunuch and Gentile, the setting was a desert, and Phillip did what he was told without knowing any of the details of what would be asked of him.
It seems like one of those New Testament stories that was long ago and far away—until I think of Margaret and Mona.
Following a Prompt of the Holy Spirit
I can’t imagine myself going because of what might be a prompt from the Holy Spirit and climb in a stranger’s car to evangelize—but I can imagine noticing someone at my work who stayed much to herself and asking her to lunch.
I can’t imagine being so immediately effective at telling God’s Story that by the end of the conversation someone would ask to be baptized—but I can imagine being sufficiently effective with simple offers of hospitality that someone would begin to confide in me—and let me walk with her through pain.
Margaret and Mona remind me that I can evangelize as Phillip did—within my capacity and where God puts me. God can reach out to people through me. I don’t have to do something phenomenal. I just have to obey the prompts of the Holy Spirit I get—then persist—and let God work.
Our Gospel selection today from John begins, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him, and I will raise him on the last day.”
No one. We can’t come to God by ourselves. We can’t get to resurrected life by ourselves. It is Jesus who draws us.
God, through Jesus, takes the lead.
The Catholic Catechism says, “By his Revelation, ‘the invisible God, from the fullness of his love, addresses men as his friends, and moves among them, in order to invite and receive them into his own company.’” (CCC, 142)
God made the first move when Christ came to be among us—to show us how to live a life of grace, to pay the price for our sins, to give us a vision of Eternal Life and to come to us—individually—in Eucharist, in Church…and in the lives of his disciples.
Like Phillip.
Like Mona.
Like you.
Like me.
Through a quiet little thought or impulse to do something good.
We don’t have to run through the desert, climb in strangers’ chariots, die as a martyr, or feed 5000. We just have to listen to the Holy Spirit say, “Ask her to lunch.” “Talk about that book he’s reading.” “Take some soup over.” “Stop and talk.” “Call and check on her.” “Be a friend.”
If what we suspect might be a prompt from the Holy Spirit is truly a prompt from God, there will be a sense of peaceful quiet in your soul when you do it. Prompts by the Holy Spirit don’t guarantee success like Phillip had. God always respects each person’s freedom. You are free to respond to a prompt or not. The recipient of your caring is free to accept or not. Sometimes, like in Mona and Margaret’s case, it takes a long time for a person to respond.
Unlike in the world, where we look for results to evaluate whether an action is useful or not, with the Holy Spirit we have to rely on faith and that internal sense of peace. It has taken me a long time to recognize the internal sense of peace. Only trial and error has given me some skill.
But I can tell you, it is often grand, grand fun to follow the prompt and see what God can do…through you.
Prayer:
Lord, thank you for always taking the lead to draw people into your life, your love. Thank you for calling Phillip and Mona and me and A Catholic Moment readers to draw people to you. But, Lord, I’m pretty sure I don’t listen as well as Phillip did. I’m even more sure I don’t persist as well as Mona did. And too often only retrospect tells me “That was a Holy Spirit prompt”–after I’ve missed an opportunity.
Yet when I reflect on my day yesterday and what I expect today to be—there were and will be multiple opportunities to draw people to you through the simple practice of your commandment to “love God and love neighbor.” Like St. Therese of Lisieux, you mostly call me to simply serve and love. So, Lord, today, give me eyes to see and ears to hear what you call me to do. Then give me the grace to do it promptly with generosity and joy.
Note: John Ciribassi will provide meditations the next two weeks on Thursday while I complete some mental health training obligations.
