During the past week, life seemed to have come full circle. It began with the funeral Mass for Msgr. Raymond Barton, which truly was a celebration of his life. It had been my privilege to serve as the bishop’s liaison to the Jewish and Muslim Communities for the Diocese of Richmond during part of Msgr. Barton’s tenure as vicar for ecumenism. His passion for Jesus’ words, “That they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (Jn 17:21) was the guiding principle that inspired Msgr. Barton’s tireless efforts to unify the people of God.
Often when he would speak to groups about the documents from Vatican II, he would ask his audience, “Are you with me?” As I reflect on his life, I believe his question had less to do with his listeners understanding him than it was about his asking them to share his passion for Christian unity. As we bid him farewell, amid so much division within and outside the Church, I could almost hear him asking, “Are you with me?” inviting all who gathered to celebrate his life to continue the work he had begun.
Like every good work, Msgr. Barton’s devotion to ecumenism did not come without a cost. I recall one conversation when he laughingly asked me if I would like to see his scars. This is the paradox of discipleship: it’s our scars that carry us into eternal life. It shouldn’t surprise us as we see examples of new life from death all around us. “No pain, no gain” is a popular expression, and nowhere is this fact more evident than during childbirth.
The day after Msgr. Barton’s funeral, a phone call from our son informed us that the baby they were expecting next week was on her way. After a tumultuous twelve hours of labor, our newest granddaughter emerged turning her mother’s pain and father’s concern into joyful relief, a reminder that the resurrection story surrounds us in ways both great and small, whenever suffering is turned into joy. Here on Earth, death and life, joy and sorrow will always be intertwined within the events of everyday life. But to appreciate this paradox as grace, we must look at life through the lenses of faith.
As the death toll rises and scenes of destruction from Hurricane Ian become known, the phenomenon of suffering is once again front and center. Death often comes with little warning, a reminder that life is fragile. We never know when we will be called to give an account of our life, so to view events through the lenses of faith not only makes sense, but gives us the courage to persevere in times of sorrow and tribulation. During the last years of her life, when she was enduring terrible physical pain and spiritual darkness, St. Thérese of Lisieux said that all things are grace. For her, obstacles were only opportunities that brought her closer to God.
The events of these past few days have provided much food for thought. We who happen to live in middle class America, where resources and help are readily available, are blessed, and yet, I can’t help but wonder about the millions of people who are living in the midst of war or where food insecurity is the norm. None of us have any control over when or where we are born. They are circumstances over which we have no control, but we are not helpless. We can control the way we respond both internally and externally. Emotions come and go, but our actions and the choices we make will endure and are what matter most.
The parable of the Good Samaritan should make us squirm because it’s easy to be dismissive of the needs of others or ignore crises that don’t directly impact us. Excuses and reasons not to get involved, look the other way, even blame those who are less fortunate are not the ways of God. As his children, we are called to do more than what is naturally attractive or convenient. God has placed his law within our hearts, and so regardless of our religion, we cannot plead ignorance.
No one is called to do everything, but we can all do something. According to numerous saints, when we devote our lives to building the kingdom of God, seek and do God’s will on Earth, our heaven begins right here and now. Who could ask for anything more?