July 19, 2007

When I walked into the tiny cluttered room off the closet-sized kitchen, I braced myself a bit. I had not seen Bill for over two years, but had heard through the friar grapevine he didn’t have much longer to live. I first met Bill over ten years ago when he came to our door, homeless and unhappy, asking for a cup of coffee. Life has been rough for Bill, yet he has managed to stay afloat finding a place here and there. All along he remained in contact with the friars, but now it appears our friendship can only continue in heaven.

I suspect when I entered the room my eyes may have betrayed my big smile and cherry greeting. A cancerous tumor no less than the size of a football clung to the right side of Bill’s head, stretching his face tightly to one side. A thin white sheet clung to his body only highlighting his brown lanky limbs which were withered and the width of young saplings.

When Bill saw me walk into the room he immediately became animated, widening his eyes and waving his big hands above his head. He then quickly rolled to one side and stretched to grab a plastic clipboard wedged into the edge of his bed. Not even attempting to write on the lines he scrawled – “Thank you! I am grateful! God is so good!” Bill was indeed happy, not only because a friar and some sisters were there to visit him, but because Jesus would be coming to him in a very special way.

Thanks to the efforts of Father Emmanuel and Sister Agnes, Bill was well prepared for this day. Despite the very sad situation, everyone present was drawn into a definitive and tangible presence of joy. The congregation that day was small, but it filled the room: Beatrice, Bill’s home health aide, his daughter Melissa and son Bakea, and three CFR sisters. Since we had no documentation asserting that Bill was ever validly baptized, I had to start from “square one.”

So, I began. “Bill, do you believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth?” He responded with widened eyes and gave me a “thumbs up.” “Do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, born of the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate, suffered, died, and was buried? Now two thumbs up. The entire Creed was accompanied by Bill punching the air with a series of enthusiastic thumbs-up “Amens!” With his assent to be baptized, I then placed a white linen towel between his head and pillow. While pouring water over his brow, I solemnly pronounced, “William Johnson, if you have not been baptized, I baptize you, William Francis Johnson, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

After the baptismal rite was completed I dipped my thumb in the silver vial containing the sacred chrism and anointed his forehead with the fragrant oil. “Receive the Holy Spirit,” I said, and then in silence I laid my hand on his head. Due to the extraordinary circumstances of Bill’s illness, I was given permission to confer this sacrament which is ordinarily reserved to the bishop.

Now that Bill was validly baptized with certitude and also confirmed in the Catholic Church, he was not only ready and willing, but now able to receive Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. We then began Holy Mass, and when it came time for communion, as he was unable to receive the sacred host, I rolled up a sterile gauze pad, dipped it into the chalice, and reverently inserted it into the corner of Bill’s mouth. As he received Our Lord, he closed his eyes and gently sucked on the gauze like a baby would a pacifier. I returned to the altar with my tear-filled eyes cast down but could easily hear the muffled sniffles from the tiny congregation.

Friends, pray for Bill Johnson. The road ahead of him will certainly be rough, but perhaps mercifully short. Pray his feet will find yet another path, very smooth and stretching up and out into eternity. There, at its end, I can just see the saints standing and awaiting - Bill with a bright and beautiful smile, and they, the holy ones, singing “Amen!” with two thumbs raised on high.

Fr. Glenn Sudano, CFR

Most Blessed Sacrament Friary, Newark, NJ

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