7 years ago (Thanks to Lily, who is 6 years old now, I can pinpoint the year), I was driving Mom home from LA on Tuesday the week before
Easter. I was really tired and my mind
was starting to wander. Mom asked me if I would say the Divine Mercy chaplet
with her, as it was the 3 O’clock hour. I said yes with a sigh, thinking, “OK,
I’ll do it out of respect for Mom, but I really don’t feel like it. I’m soooo
tired.” And so we began—“In the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the
Holy Spirit. Amen.” Then we recited the Our Father, a Hail Mary, and the
Apostle’s Creed. Mom began the first Praise—“Eternal Father, I offer you the
Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Your Dearly Beloved Son, Our Lord Jesus
Christ…” To which I was to have replied “In atonement for our sins and those of
the whole world.” But just as Mom had said “Our Lord Jesus Christ” we drove by
a meadow where there were several sheep grazing with small lambs in attendance,
and I immediately thought of the Lamb of God. Here we were, offering the Body
and Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Lamb of God to the Father, and I get a
visual! I was so taken aback by the revelation that I stumbled on my response
to Mom and she had to remind me what it should be! I felt the tears welling up
in my eyes. But at the same time, I felt rejuvenated and committed to reciting
the chaplet with as much love for our Lord as I could muster. It also reminded
me that I should get to confession as soon as possible and apologize to God for
sinning through my own fault, in what I had done and in what I had failed to
do.
The 4 days immediately preceding this drive with Mom,
Marilyn the girls and I had been in New York for a short sightseeing trip and
to see a couple of Broadway plays. As we
were walking along 5th Avenue in the morning on the way to Mass at St.
Patrick’s Cathedral, we passed by a young man who was obviously cold. I
thought, “Dear God, if this guy is still out here when we pass this way again,
I’m going to give him my gloves.” Talk is cheap. Strike one. Not only that, but
by the time Mass was over, I had already forgotten to look for him on the way
back. Strike two. Later on in the day, we were walking back to the hotel for
the evening after a long day of sightseeing, and I saw a woman bundled up
against the cold, looking almost dead lying on the sidewalk. Many people were walking by very quickly,
appearing not to notice her. It was like she was just part of the landscape.
But did I do anything? For a fleeting moment, I thought I should see if she was
all right and maybe buy her a cup of soup or something. But did I? No, I picked
up my pace to try to catch up to the girls, who were crossing the street about
50 feet in front of me. Strike three. From this point on in the trip, I really
felt bad about my obvious lack of compassion. For all of my noble thoughts of loving my
neighbor as myself, I showed a complete disdain for what Christ called the
Greatest Commandment. I think that both
of these unfortunate people were placed in my path for me to recognize as
Jesus, and I failed our Lord’s test.
So on that Tuesday I was praying with Mom, when I saw those
lambs in the meadow, I was so sorry for having failed Christ that I almost
cried and didn’t feel worthy enough to be speaking to Him. At the same time I
felt so overwhelmed with gratitude because even though I had denied Him (3
times!... Coincidence?) earlier that week, He was letting me know that He loves
me and will afford me His perfect mercy if I just ask. In fact, I feel like
crying now just writing about it.
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