The expression “pity party” gained widespread use during the latter part of the twentieth century. Perhaps you’ve been to one, as I know I have. With just one attendee, it is a party where we dwell upon our own hardships and disappointments. The main drawback to such parties is that our personal growth comes to a screeching halt.
A priest once told me that one of the saddest things he witnesses are those who live their lives without an understanding of what their lives should be about. He noted that some think their lives will be fulfilled by the accumulation of earthly treasure whereas others worry about how they are “seen” in the world. His greatest sadness, however, is with the increasing numbers of individuals he meets who fail to see their lives in relationship to God. And so, he feels pity for them, but like St Monica did for her son, he prays for them every day.
A woman once told me a story of her brother-in-law. Having been raised in the Catholic faith, he veered from it after high school. Over the course of many decades, when confronted by family members about why he had left the Faith, his response was always the same: “I don’t need the Church to tell me how to live my life.” Regarding his “life philosophy,” he remained committed to it until being diagnosed with an illness that would end his earthly life.
Throughout his final days spent in the hospital, she recounted that family members visited, and stories were told. But then, something remarkable happened. For on the day he died, her brother-in-law turned to her and asked that she find a priest. In her mind, she thought: “A priest! Really?” And shortly thereafter, a chaplain arrived, family exited his hospital room, and her brother-in-law made his final confession and received the Sacraments of Reconciliation and Anointing of the Sick.
An hour later, with a smile on his face, he died.
After years of separation from that moment, she shared with me her analysis of what had happened. First, she believed that her brother-in-law, in the moments before his death, had a profound encounter with the Lord and received His gift of forgiveness and mercy. And further, despite the many years he had turned his back to Him, the Lord continued to seek him out.
In the Gospel of Matthew (9:36), Our Lord’s pity for us is on full display: “At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” Standing before them, Jesus recognized their suffering and need and was moved by their pain and hardships. And He also understood that many of them were lost and lacked direction in their lives.
Sound familiar?
Another story. This past week, I called my mother to tell her that my father (who passed on Christmas morning 13 years ago) had been on my mind—especially a visual of him that I’ve carried since I was a little boy. It was a routine that I witnessed whereby each morning, he would place his trusted Timex watch on his left wrist, wind it up, and be on his way. I told her that for me, his routine had a profound impact on me because it represented a sense of stability and continuity. At the conclusion of our conversation, I asked if she remembered where that watch ended up whereby, she quickly told me it was in a small box tucked away in my disorganized office.
Later that day, I found the small box and that important watch, a vintage 1960s Timex Marlin, that had witnessed much over the years. But, as it hadn’t been wound since my father’s passing in 2013, the second hand was silent. And so, I gave it a try. After placing it on my wrist, I wound it and lo and behold, that watch which had “taken a licking, began ticking.” Once more.
Perhaps we can apply this story to our own faith life and commitment to follow Jesus? If the practice of our Faith is stuck or has become one of going through the motions, now is the time to wind it up. Or, if we know someone who has been away from the Church, now is also the time to wind up our courage and invite them back.
Also, if we’ve forgotten just how much our God loves and longs for us, we do well to consider what God instructed Moses (Exodus 19:2-6) to pass along to the Israelites parked in the Sinai desert, namely, that He bore them up on eagle wings and made them His special possession, dearer than all other people.
So, on this 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, may we remind ourselves that this world and the “things” of this world are passing away. In the end, divine time is all that matters- which begins here and now! As such, perhaps our own personal rewinds include praying more, reflecting upon divine truths, and asking Jesus for guidance in our lives. For whatever time it may be, He is always there for us.






