The Tribune

By SIMON

Earlier this year, on Sunday, the second of March, Pope Francis remained in the Gemelli Hospital in Rome, hospitalised with pneumonia in both lungs. Despite gravely ill-health, he issued his Angelus.

What is the Angelus prayer? As noted by Vatican News: “The Angelus is a special prayer recited by Catholics three times a day, at 6am, noon, and 6pm and is accompanied by the ringing of the Angelus bell.

“The name comes from the Latin word for Angel and the prayer itself reminds us of how Jesus Christ assumed our human nature through the Mystery of the Incarnation.

“The Pope recites the Angelus prayer in St Peter’s Square every Sunday at midday.

“He also gives a brief reflection on the Gospel of the day and often comments on some issue of international concern.”

The background to the Pope’s message drew more attention to this Angelus than usual. As Reuters reported: “Pope Francis came so close to death at one point during his 38-day fight in hospital against pneumonia that his doctors considered ending treatment so he could die in peace, the head of the pope’s medical team said.”

Pope Francis recalled in the Angelus: “Sisters and brothers, I am still sending you these thoughts from the hospital, where as you know I have been for several days, accompanied by doctors and healthcare professionals, whom I thank for the attention with which they are taking care of me.

“I feel in my heart the ‘blessing’ that is hidden within frailty, because it is precisely in these moments that we learn even more to trust in the Lord; at the same time, I thank God for giving me the opportunity to share in body and spirit the condition of so many sick and suffering people.

“I would like to thank you for the prayers, which rise up to the Lord from the hearts of so many faithful from many parts of the world: I feel all your affection and closeness and, at this particular time, I feel as if I am ‘carried’ and supported by all God’s people. Thank you all!”

And he prayed: “I pray for you too. And I pray above all for peace. From here, war appears even more absurd. Let us pray for tormented Ukraine, Palestine, Israel, Lebanon, Myanmar, Sudan and Kivu.”

From here! Where was and is the “here” from which he prayed? The Pope prayed from several sacred spaces: his ministry as Bishop of Rome; his possible deathbed; his role as a peacemaker; his long life of service to the Church and the world.

From these “vantage” points, war and so many other things appear so egregiously and fundamentally absurd. The absurdity of mass killing in the supposed name of God and peace. The absurdity of killing innocents and destroying homelands.

In the wars in Ukraine, Palestine, Israel, Lebanon, Myanmar, Sudan, and Kivu in the Democratic Republic of Congo, scores have been killed, maimed, raped, orphaned, made homeless, and robbed of their humanity and future.

There is also the absurdity of all of games of political power and violence violating human dignity and the images and likeness of God in fellow human beings.

Those who have been or are near death, often see their lives, their loved ones, and the world with an emboldened clarity. This is the clarity of love and demand for peace of which Francis implored the world.

Though he is much frailer in body, Francis’s spirit of reconciliation and resolve is even clearer after many weeks of illness and lessened physical vitality.

This Good Friday and Easter, where is the “here” from which we commemorate the Passion of Jesus Christ and our own participation in this Passion?

The here may include diagnoses of ill or declining health, including many instances of cancer in our country. It may include broken dreams, promises and relationships. It includes a world turned upside down and in fear and anxiety caused by absurd decisions by the leadership of the most powerful country in the world.

We are beset by the absurdity of our own human foibles and the foolish actions and lack of imagination by political leaders at home and abroad.

At Easter, we are reminded that the here from which we live is temporary and will pass away sooner than we think. Easter should grant us a greater spirit of clarity about the purpose and meaning of our short lives, the temporary here of now.

At the beginning of the March 2 Angelus, Pope Francis offered us spiritual direction on how we might and taste and see the goodness of the Lord, and our mission as sojourning pilgrims with limited sight and limited time, but the potential for unlimited love and the capacity for continued growth.

He reminds us: “In this Sunday’s Gospel (Lk 6:39-45), Jesus makes us reflect on two of the five senses: sight and taste. “With regard to sight, He asks us to train our eyes to observe the world well and to judge our neighbour with charity.

“He says: ‘Remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your brother’s eye’ (v. 42). Only with this gaze of care, not condemnation, can fraternal correction be a virtue. Because if it is not fraternal, it is not correction!

“With regard to taste, Jesus reminds us that ‘every tree is known by its own fruit’ (v. 44). And the fruits that come from man are, for example, his words, which ripen on his lips, since ‘for from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks’ (v. 45).

“Rotten fruits are violent, false, vulgar words; good ones are the just and honest words that give flavour to our dialogues.

“And so we can ask ourselves: how do I look at other people, who are my brothers and sisters? And how do I feel looked at by others? Do my words have a good flavour, or are they imbued with bitterness and vanity?”

How might we better taste the good fruits of life and love granted us by the Lord of Life and our family and friends?

We might begin by removing bitter words from our tongues, hearts and minds. Our vision and sight might be improved by refraining from constantly staring in the mirrors of self-pity and self-absorption, to which we often relentlessly peer.

Moreover, the anger, frustration, boredom, and hopelessness which rob us of vitality, is only dissipated or lifted by raising our moral gaze above and beyond our blinkered, weary eyes fixated on our own woes.

From his hospital bed, where he had a vista from “here” to eternity, Francis lifted his eyes and gaze beyond his own suffering and near death.

He lifted his the eyes of his heart to children suffering in Gaza and Ukraine; to parents hoping and praying for peace in Israel and Sudan; to refuges suffering and seeking solace in Lebanon, Kivu, and Myanmar.

Despite double pneumonia and his taste buds robbed of certain flavors, from “here”, our brother Francis reminded us in his frailty that there is still much goodness and grace to taste and to see and to impart to others in the hope of new life and resurrection despite whatever our current woes and circumstance. Blessed Easter!