Semester exams or job interviews. Planting time or portfolio presentations. Cell phone and utility bills. The death of your dog “Bucky,” your fish “Bubbles,” or worse, that of a loved family member. There are many events in our lives in which seem to prompt the natural human response, “If I only had more time.”
This was one of my first thoughts on Feb. 11 when I heard the news that Pope Benedict XVI would be stepping down from his position as the acting Holy Father. I immediately began the checklist: I should have paid better attention to the homily he gave the last time I was at St. Peter’s for Mass. What did he talk about in his Sunday Angelus address two days ago? Why didn’t I get a few religious articles blessed by him before he left? I should have gone to a Wednesday audience! Why have I not read more of his books and theological articles? As well as: Who will the next pope be? Where will he be from? Will he have a beard?
These thoughts raced through my mind that afternoon as I entered the seminary refectory for lunch, the room ruminating with conversation on the recent news. My appetite was gone, but my curiosity was ravenous. After lunch, I made my way to the chapel to ask the Lord what he thought about all of this. (This should have been step one!) After a short bit of prayer, he assured me that all was in his planning, reminding me that the Holy Spirit has led the Church through 2,000 years of curveballs and that this pitch would bring many home. If I only had more time, I thought. “You do,” the Father assured me, “make the most of these final days. I am with the Church, I am with him, and I am with you.”
I had the blessing of being able to go to his last public Mass on Ash Wednesday, as well as his final General Audiences and Angelus addresses. Knowing that these were his last ones added to their value and helped me to cling attentively to every word he spoke. His final words were filled with love, joy, peace and a bit of tiredness, revealing in a new way his humanity and deep love for the Church. He assured everyone during his last audience, while asking for continued prayers, that he is not abandoning the cross but is entering into a new relationship with the Crucified Lord.
This great theologian, attentive pastor and loving father taught until his last minute as Roman pontiff. He has shown me in a new way that now is the time to live and now is the time to love. He has taught me that life must not be about “what I should have done” or “what I could do.” It is about “what am I doing now,” graciously living the gift of today as if it is my last. As I heard someone recently say, God gives grace in the present moment, not yesterday or tomorrow, but now. Along with the rest of the world, I am now anxiously waiting to see who the next successor of Peter will be. I cannot hope for another “John Paul” or “Benedict,” but I can joyfully anticipate what God wishes to give me, you, and the Church in the present moment. “I am with you always (Matthew 28:20).” With Christ, I do not need more time. Now is enough.
