Dear Friends,

Two weeks ago, following the whirlwind of "Name Tag Weekend," I was finally settling down into the quiet of my evening. That peace, however, was suddenly interrupted by a single phone call from the daughter of a former parishioner at St. Andrew the Apostle. Her message was brief but urgent: "Father Robert, your friend collapsed in church and is being rushed to the emergency room at Banner Thunderbird Medical Center in Glendale."

Adrenaline replacing my exhaustion, I immediately jumped into my car and headed to the West Valley. Upon arriving at the ER, I was met with a sight that often stirs a bit of unease in our current socio-political climate: four police officers standing guard amidst the commotion in the waiting room. One officer, in particular, kept his eyes on me. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I was in some kind of trouble.

Then, the narrative shifted when the same officer approached me, not with an accusation, but with a question: "Do you know which room your patient is in, Father?" When I mentioned the room number and explained to him that I was there to administer the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, his demeanor softened instantly. He didn't just point the way; he offered to escort me.

As we walked the sterile hospital corridors, we shared a brief but deeply enlightening conversation about faith. He asked me to pray for his mother, who was also very ill and dying of cancer. Before we parted ways, he handed me a simple wristband. On it were the words:

"Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer."

I was struck by the timing. As we navigate this Lenten season, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect motto and a better assignment. I immediately resolved to make those words my focus for the first week of Lent.

Reflecting more on that encounter that night when I got back, I realized how easily I could have let my own preconceptions or the "exhaustion" of my weekend close me off to that moment of grace. Yes, God used a moment of crisis and a chance meeting with a stranger in uniform to speak directly to my heart.

This is the reality of our Lenten journey: God can use any situation to open our eyes to the mission of evangelization. Often, we think of "sharing the Gospel" as something that happens only within the church walls or through formal programs. But the police officer reminded me that we are all called to be conduits of grace in the "emergency rooms" of life—in the grocery store, the workplace, or a stressful hospital hallway.

As we continue through Lent, I invite you to ask yourself:

• Am I looking for God in the faces of the strangers I meet?
• Am I prepared to offer a word of hope—or even a simple wristband—to someone in need of comfort?
• How can I "be constant in prayer" even when the world feels chaotic?

Let us not be so focused on our own schedules or anxieties that we miss the "enlightening conversations" God is trying to have with us through others. This week, may we all strive to be patient in our tribulations, joyful in our hope. And constant in prayer.

I love you!

BACK TO LIST