The Monastic Edge on Caring for the Sick
The most striking way I have seen the Church with the sick is in the person of Pope St. John Paul II. In his later years, he was a sick man among the sick. Confined to his wheelchair, with disease overtaking his body, he stood before the people and showed us the dignity of human suffering.
The Holy Father established the World Day of the Sick in 1992. It falls on the Memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes as “a special time of prayer and sharing, of offering one’s suffering for the good of the Church and of reminding everyone to see in his sick brother or sister the face of Christ who, by suffering, dying, and rising, achieved the salvation of mankind.” This day reminds us of the dignity of our suffering and the marks of a Christian community. Now I turn to the monastics who exemplify care for the sick.
Benedictines have a timeless message for us. They are named after St. Benedict of Nursia, born around the year 480. He lived in a world crumbling from its unity. Rome was sacked a second time in 455, and the last Roman emperor was deposed in 476. Benedict witnessed the demise of the Roman Empire with its social and economic structures. He retreated from the deteriorating world to find God in the cave, and his Rule, composed from his lived experience, became the guiding ethos of Western Monasticism.
Through the Rule of St. Benedict, we learn of themes such as structure and the flexible approach to living, balance and moderation, community and belonging, personal transformation, and humility. Benedict puts the sick at the center of all our service.
In Chapters 36 and 37, Benedict instructs that the hallmark of Christian service is care for the sick. He references our Lord’s words, “When I was sick, you visited me,” as the core of the Christian ethos. The sick must keep in mind that “they are served out of honor for God” and must not let their “excessive demands distress their brothers who serve them” (Rule of St. Benedict 36:4). Benedict wants us to be “God-fearing, attentive, and concerned” for the sick (Rule of St. Benedict 36:7).
If we want to find Jesus, we must recognize and serve him in what I call a Communion of Exchange. We serve the sick because we know it is the suffering Christ we are attending to. At the same time, the sick see Christ in us, and they are transformed by our service. Both parties are changed by an intimate exchange of care. This is the heart of true communion and community: having Christ at the center of our interactions.
Benedict is very practical in his wisdom. In attending to the elderly and sick, some will be demanding and mundane, while others will be a rich spiritual encounter. Benedict wants us rooted in humility so that we can serve the sick in the monotonous and extraordinary, for Christ is present in all of it.
In a world that is only interested in those who are strong and can contribute to society, Benedict instructs that everyone matters, regardless of age. In dealing with the youth, the elderly, or the sick, we must keep in mind that moderation and exceptions are a way to a fruitful life in Christ. When the sick are hungry, we must pivot to attend to them. Fasting is good for the soul, but if it takes all the physical energy of the sick, elderly, or the young, then there is no virtue in it. Prayer is important, but if it becomes unbearable, it is more important to pivot or adjust the prayer schedule so that the young and the elderly can fully participate, given their life circumstances.
Many parishes opened their doors on February 11 to celebrate the Eucharist and the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick for those who are not usually able to attend. These are fitting events and a perfect opportunity to pray with the sick, be with them, and feel as if we are at Lourdes, where the sick come constantly to pray for a miracle, strength, and courage.
This Lent, may our hearts be open to recognize Christ in our own community and to serve Him in the mundane and extraordinary ways that the Lord calls us.
Photo by Hanyang Zhang on Unsplash
