Once upon a time there was a man who was struck down in his early thirties; he was diagnosed withcancer. He had a wife and young children and a promising career. Suddenly all of that was swept away from him. He could barely talk or walk. He was in constant agony. His friends and his family, except for his wife and mother, avoided him. The doctors shook their heads. It was too bad. He was a nice man and deserved longer life. But there was nothing they could. At last he went to a very famous doctor who offered to operate on him, even though everyone else said the tumor was inoperable. The doctor warned the patient and his wife that he could very well die during the operation, though he (the doctor) was pretty sure that he would survive and return to health. They decided that they should take the risk. After nine hours of surgery, the doctor came into the waiting room, grinned at the man’s wife and said, “Got it!” The man recovered and went on to a happy and successful life. Twenty years later the surgeon died. We should go to the wake, the patient’s wife said. I’d like to, her husband replied. But it’s on the weekend and I have an important golf tournament.
The word Eucharist means "to give thanks". I am supposed to thank God for all He has done and is doing for me. I thank God for the prayers that have been answered the way I wish they would be answered, and for the prayers that have been answered in ways different than I have asked.
… but the Eucharist is on Sunday and I have so many other urgent things to be done …
