The sacrament of the
anointing of the sick is just one way priests and chaplains can minister
to the dying and their families. They -- along with others in pastoral
care ministry -- can also pray, sing, read Scriptures, counsel, help
with arrangements and mediate conflicts. They even grant final requests.
One patient at Our Lady of Mercy Life Center nursing home in
Guilderland, for example, expressed a lifelong desire to see a certain
play. Marie Venaglia, the Catholic chaplain, rented a DVD from the
library and played it for her. After residents die, the center holds a
service for family, staff and visitors. It also has periodic memorial
services. "It's another form of closure, another way to talk about how
(the bereaved are) doing," Venaglia told The Evangelist, newspaper of
the Albany Diocese. "Death is a natural process. We can speak freely
about it. It's not all medical. The pastoral ministry here is all
incorporated into the whole care." She and other Catholics who encounter
death on a regular basis recently reflected on pastoral care of the
dying, God's presence at a deathbed and their common experiences in
patients' final hours. The anointing of the sick -- which Venaglia
described as "a blessing showing that the whole church is united in
praying for this person at this time in their life, not just a death" --
is offered every six weeks and as needed.
In the quiet, dusty corners of our hearts, we often harbor blueprint drafts of how we think our lives should unfold. We carefully map out our timelines, hoping for a smooth path, and it is only natural to feel a bit lost or weary when a sudden storm alters our course or a door we prayed would open remains closed. Yet, our Lord does not stand at a distance during these moments of uncertainty; He is a tender Shepherd who walks beside us, gently whispering, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope" ( Jeremiah 29:11). When our own plans crumble, it is not a sign that He has abandoned us, but rather an invitation to fold our hands, release our grip on the pen, and offer our own quiet fiat—letting Him guide us into green pastures we could never have found on our own. Placing our trust in His loving providence allows us to breathe deeply and find rest, even when the road ahead is shrouded in mist. E...