Chapter Three





Simon had expected that his first appointment would be as a curate in one of the country towns. But – no – the bishop had directed that he spend the first couple of years of his priesthood in Armidale. As junior curate to the bishop and five other clergy, at first Simon found this life rather daunting. Some days he visited the sick with a senior cleric, other days he observed Scripture lessons given by another senior cleric and on other days again he was taken on visit to the major hospitals – in each case as an observer.

A month passed. He was beginning to inwardly question how long would his ‘observer’ time last – weeks, months, or even longer! – when one morning Dan, the priest administrator, called him to his office.

“Well Simon, how do you like things here?”

“Fine.”

“Not quite true, eh?” laughed the older man.

“Well, okay then,” smiled Simon, beginning to relax.

“We always go this way,” explained Dan. “Just show you young’uns around before we put you to work… Now your easy time is over,” he added with a grin.

Simon remained silent, waiting for Dan to continue.

“We’ll still involve you in the different ministries. But, right now – Basil will be away for three weeks. As you know, he’s the hospital chaplain. How do you feel about filling in for him? – not as in depth as Basil works – just to keep visits going. Now and then you’ll receive requests for some type of help when the patient leaves hospital. Now and then you may be verbally abused! And now and then you may have to listen to a long, long story, mainly about nothing, from a loner. But mainly we’re there offering any service required from the Church. Some request the Sacrament of Reconciliation, many happily accept the Eucharist and most are happy with a blessing. So, Simon, what do you think? Are you okay with filling in for Basil for the next three weeks?”

“Thanks, Dan. I’m ready and happy to fill in. But I won’t be up to Basil’s standards.”

“No one is,” laughed Dan. “And don’t let anything worry you. We’re always here to help in any way.”

“Thanks. When do I start?”

“In a couple of days, if that’s all right.”

“Yes. That’s fine.”

At the end of his first day of hospital ministry, Dan approached him. “Well, Simon, how was it?”

“No problems,” smiled Simon. “I think those in for the long haul missed Basil. But, overall, no complaints. And,” he added, “I rather enjoyed it. Most patients are very chatty.”

By the end of the second week Simon was beginning to feel like an ‘old hand.’ It was a special ministry, he knew, but not completely his ministry. Still, he enjoyed interaction with patients, the majority of whom were hospitalized for curable problems.

On the last day of the second week while visiting the last ward for the day, he was approached by a nursing sister from another ward.

“Excuse me.” She spoke quietly. “You’re a minister, aren’t you?”

Simon nodded.

“We have a patient,” she continued. “A patient in a special non-visiting area who has asked for a minister. You don’t have to come. He’s in isolation – in the final stages of AIDS. He will die within weeks. With precautions there will be no danger to you. But you can decline.”

“Take me there,” responded Simon immediately.

“Thanks.”

After donning the prescribed gown and following proceedings, Simon entered a darkened room where a figure lay motionless in the hospital bed. Simon moved to the side of the bed and looked down on the pale, emaciated face, studded by two brown eyes staring at him.

“Hi, mate!” Simon whispered softly, gently taking the bony hand. “I’m Simon. I’m a Catholic priest. Would you like me to sit here with you for a while?”

The head nodded. Suddenly his eyes were drowned in tears as sobs wracked the thin body.

“It’s okay, mate. Let it out!” Simon spoke quietly as he gently squeezed the hand he held.

Gradually the sobs eased, the eyes cleared. Minutes later he whispered, “My name’s Brad. Do you mind if I talk to you? No one wants to listen to my story.”

“Of course.”

Slowly, in broken whispers, Brad told his story to someone who listened.

Three years ago Brad had met a man whom he thought would be the love of his life. They moved in together and became a couple. When Brad’s parents heard of it, they sent him the ultimatum – either give up this relationship, never, ever again enter a homosexual relationship or be disowned completely and for always. Brad believed in the love and trust of his partner and, sadly, watched his family cut him out of their lives. All went well in the relationship for a short time – that is until his partner left him for a handsome young sportsman. Brad was devastated. But his plight grew even worse when he faced what he had suspected months before – he had AIDS. A few of his friends supported him to the present. He knew he was dying but he really didn’t care – what was left for him in life!

Brad, his little strength used in telling his story, closed his eyes. Minutes later he opened them.

“You still here?”

“Yes, Brad. Do you want me to go?”

“Yeah.”

“There is something, though, isn’t there? You did ask for a minister.”

“Changed my mind.”

“Okay Brad. I’ll come again. I’ll go now – but give you a blessing first.”

Brad closed his eyes during the blessing, then whispered “Thank you,” as Simon left the room.

There, but for the grace of God, go I, an inner voice kept whispering. Throughout the weekend Simon’s thoughts continued to centre on Brad. Brad’s welfare, inner rather than outer, was the prime intention of his weekend liturgies.

Monday morning to the hospital – he decided to see Brad first before other hospital calls.

To his surprise the special area was deserted. At the nurses station on the same floor he received the news – Brad had died on the night he had visited. Arrangements had been made by the family who had originally ‘disowned’ him, and he had already been flown to another State.

Simon’s first reaction was surprise – surprise at the suddenness of events; then questions – questions as to the disowning family who had now claimed him; and finally sadness – sadness for a young life, deeply hurt and snuffed out.

Automatically, Simon continued with his hospital ministry. On returning home he found Dan saying his Office in the garden.

“Dan, can we talk, please?”

“Sure Simon.”

After telling Brad’s story, Simon added, “Dan, what else should I have done?”

“Nothing,” replied the older man. “A blessing was all he was ready for then. Life is never black and white. There is a time for everything, but we may never know at which time. Humans do all sorts of things to themselves – and then blame God. By the sound of things that kid has suffered quite a lot – at the hands of different people. Now, I reckon, he’s at peace, at home with God – wherever that is!”

“Thanks Dan. You’re right.”