Yesterday we celebrated the Memorial of Pope Saint John Paul II. It’s hard to believe that we’ve had three popes since JPII, including our current Holy Father Leo XIV. This could be because of the length of his pontificate, nearly 27 years, or certainly because of his apostolic travels around the world, 104 throughout his papacy, or possibly because of his important theological contributions to the Church, like the promulgation of the 1983 Code of Canon Law or the newest Catechism of the Catholic Church, two ambitious projects that today stand as the ground on which our Church finds a foothold to exist on earth and prepare for eternity in heaven. Of these and so many other memories of Pope John Paul II’s papacy, one that might be less talked about but carries deep spiritual meaning is the fact that he was admitted to Gemelli Hospital ten times for serious medical care during his time as our Holy Father, including on the day that he was shot in St. Peter’s Square. By God’s grace and the watchful vigilance of the Blessed Mother, he recovered fully.
I recall this lesser-known, less-talked-about part of JPII’s Petrine ministry, considering Pope Leo XIV’s hospitalization last week to remove a nodule from his lung, which proved to be malignant and is now being reported to require no further treatment, as the surgery was successful, thanks be to God. As the news emerged of the Holy Father’s condition, revealed by Pope Leo himself at his Sunday Angelus, our hearts were naturally concerned for him, and each day we prayerfully waited for updates on the surgery, the recovery, and the pathology results. Now we can rest assured with the news that he needs no further medical care at this time, and we will continue to benefit from his steady and faithful steering of the Barque of Peter.
As we walked with Pope Leo through the uncertainty of last week and as we consider that this happened ten times during Pope John Paul II’s papacy, totaling 153 nights in the hospital during his nearly 27 years as pope, the spiritual graces of serious illness come to my mind. When we are young, most of us struggle to imagine that the day will come when we spend multiple nights in the hospital for a serious health matter. And when that day arrives, it sometimes takes us by surprise. But the more we look at this reality of the human experience, the clearer it becomes that a hospital stay is almost inevitable for all of us, some of our younger brothers and sisters have already experienced this. So, how should we reflect on this fact? Pope Leo and Pope John Paul II certainly, but everyone else who has journeyed and continues to journey through health crises is our model, our teacher.
What are the quality identifiers of a serious health situation? They begin with the initial news from the doctors and the profound fear that comes from that news, which then moves into the weighing of possible outcomes (some of which are well-founded and some of which are conjured up by our fearful thoughts with little rationale), which then moves into questions of fault – what I’ve done wrong to have this condition – which then moves into prayer that God will intervene to heal this illness (certainly strengthened by the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick), which then arrives at a line in the sand deep in the soul. This is where God, by His grace, takes us where we cannot go on our own. In my experience as a priest making hospital visits to celebrate the sacraments and pray with people, time and time again, after the initial reactions and emotions, a grace-filled opportunity emerges — giving oneself over to God and others. This is a moment of true formation for which we are deeply indebted to Pope John Paul II and Pope Leo, and our loved ones who’ve gone through hospitalizations, and every other person on the planet who has done so and will do so this day. They teach all of us maybe the most essential aspect of the Christian journey — giving oneself over to God and others. In a world that celebrates total autonomy and rugged individualism, where the individual is increasingly turned inward on himself or herself, a moment of total surrender to God and other people who care about us is a moment of deep spiritual maturity. So many times in my priesthood, I have shared this with people in a health crisis, and when they’ve come out of the hospital, they’ve mentioned that the surrender to God and to other caring hands was a life-changing experience. This is why hospital ministry is integral to our Catholic identity. Yes, it is certainly about the physical care of the person — God’s masterpiece. But more so, hospitals are about the human soul and the ongoing progression of each soul to total surrender to God.
So, the next time you visit a loved one in the hospital or visit someone suffering from a very difficult health condition, thank them for serving as your teacher, your formator. Thank them for showing you how to surrender to God and others. Thank them for the service they provide to a world that doesn’t always value defenselessness but, instead, cultivates defensiveness. The Beatitude, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” really means God is with the defenseless. This is the spiritual grace that the sick and the suffering teach us. We often think that we are in service to them through our visits and prayers. But in fact, the opposite is true. They are in service to us and the world through their sacrifice and their faithfulness. Thank you to all those who suffer from medical uncertainty. You continue to teach us one of the central quality identifiers of a Christian — surrendering to God and God’s good providence. Thank you!