I bring Holy Communion to my parish’s homebound. Because my visits are regular and sometimes continue for years, I have the privilege of developing relationships with many of the communicants. They become friends. Old friends, I like to joke, because most of them are in their nineties. Born in the 1920s, a few of them remember the Great Depression, many served in World War II, and they can all tell you where they were the moment President Kennedy was shot. They are living history books, a wealth of knowledge, full of wisdom, and their humor is witty and unfiltered. They are authentically themselves, without inhibition or reservation, and our time together is the highlight of my week.
However, when one of my friends becomes ill, the focus of our visit shifts. Frailty, illness, and pending death are often accompanied with emotional and spiritual suffering. Providing comfort and peace during this time is the most crucial yet difficult aspect of homebound ministry and often needs to be referred to the special training of a priest or chaplain. During my visits, however, I try to be a listening presence when my friends express anxieties or need extra hope and guidance. When this happens, we pray together and ask God for help. We also turn to one of the most beautiful aspects of our faith: the examples and wisdom of the saints.
Discouragement
Many of the communicants have outlived their siblings, spouses, friends, and even their own children, and they often ask, “Why am I still here?” I remind them that God has given each of us a special mission, and every day that we are alive is an opportunity to fulfill that mission. Even if my friend’s eyesight is poor, or they can’t hear, or walk, they can still pray for themselves and others.
St. Monica is an example of the importance of intercessory prayer. She devoted her life to praying for the conversion of her husband and son, saw her prayers answered before her death, and her son Augustine is now a great Catholic saint. Prayer is one of the most important missions of our Church and the limitations of our deteriorating bodies often provide us with more opportunity to engage in prayer. There’s power in that, and I invite my friends fully into the mission by bringing them the names of people in our parish who need their dedicated prayers.
Fear
While God reveals that the joys of heaven are more marvelous than anything we know on earth, it is still natural to wonder what the end of our earthly life will be like. How will it happen, and who will be with us? Will we be alone?
When there is fear of the unknown and dying alone, we remember our relationships with our guardian angels. “Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading him to life.” (CCC 336) Our angel’s mission doesn’t end with our earthly death. Saint Aloysius Gonzaga (1568-1591) taught that the moment the soul leaves the body, it is accompanied by its guardian angel, even into purgatory, where the angel will visit, comfort and console the soul, bringing it prayers that have been offered for it, until the soul is united with God. There is much comfort in knowing that we always have our angel, and that we will not be alone even after our death.
Resolution
It’s natural at the end of life to look back and take stock of both our accomplishments and regrets. During this time, unresolved relationship issues and unforgiveness may surface. This is the time to bring to heart all those who have hurt us. Some pain can never be forgotten, but even though we continue to suffer from the hurt others have caused us, we can still choose to forgive.
St. Maria Goretti provides a beautiful example of forgiveness. She was eleven when she was murdered and, in her dying breath, she forgave her attacker and expressed a desire to be with him in heaven. We can emulate her with a simple act of forgiveness and ask God to allow those who have hurt us to be in heaven with us. Forgiving those who have hurt us heals our souls and prepares us to meet Jesus.
Despair
Even after Reconciliation and the Anointing of the Sick, we may fall into despair over old sins. St. Faustina teaches us that the best way to overcome despair is by putting Christ’s Passion at the center of our prayer life. In her diary, she recounts these words spoken to her by Jesus: “Remember my passion, and if you do not believe my words, believe my wounds.” (Diary, 379)
His sacrifice is more powerful than our sin. I always share, too, words from one of my favorite saints, St. Bernard. He says this about our Mother of Mercy: “… she throws open the abyss of God’s mercies to anyone she pleases, when she pleases, and as she pleases. Hence, there are no sinners who will be lost — no matter how great their crimes when this Most Holy Lady intercedes for them.” (The Glories of Mary by St. Alphonsus Liguori) If we ask, Mary will always intercede on our behalf because she is our mother.
The elderly and homebound are the true treasures of our faith communities and serving them is an extension of the parish’s embrace. While it’s difficult to accompany someone through pain and suffering, God assists us through the saints, and we can draw on their strength and wisdom to help others respond to His will with peace and hope.
Through my experiences in homebound ministry, I’ve learned that death is not something to be feared but to prepare for, and the transition can be a time of healing and growth and even unmeasured joy. Never was this so clear than when I visited a friend in the final days of hospice. He was bed-ridden, his face gaunt and drawn, and his eyes rheumy and unexpressive. But when I placed the tiniest sliver of the Holy Host on his tongue, he sat straight up, and all traces of illness, suffering, and age drained from his face. His expression radiated pure joy. He had loved the saints, and I can’t help but believe that he became one at that very moment.
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image: Reimar / Shutterstock
