A woman overcomes her betrayal to help another in need.
By Fr. Paddy Clarke

"Suppose you, a layperson, could give one homily during your lifetime. What would you choose to preach about? I asked myself that same question. What subject did I pick?

By way of an answer let me tell you a story.

During my years as a Columban priest in Japan. I once worked in a parish in southern Japan. There was a small out-church in this parish, and each Sunday I said Mass there at 3 o’clock. That’s where I met two parishioners who were grandparents in their mid-80s.

When I met this lovely couple, the first word that came to mind was “serene.” They lived in a house on land that jutted out into the sea. Because the house was painted white and stood out, the locals dubbed it the “White House.”

The grandfather came to Mass in the summer in his small engine-powered boat. Usually I would drive the grandmother home after Mass. She would invite me in, and we would talk over coffee.

I Was Sick & You Looked After Me
One Sunday, as the grandmother sat across from me, I happened to say, “You know, you two are really blessed.” The grandmother looked at me and said, “Well, he can be prickly even still!”

I prompted her, “Even still …”

The grandmother continued, “We have had our ups and downs over the years. Now things are peaceful. His great worry is that I might die before him. He thinks he couldn’t survive without me, but it was not always that way.”

She paused and looked beyond me: “A number of years into our marriage—in fact, four children into our marriage—we were living in a town outside Osaka. He was doing well in business. Then suddenly one day he left the house and did not return for a week. When he did return, he had a bag filled with his laundry.

“He told me, ‘wash and press.’ When the laundry was ready, he walked out again. This became a pattern. It was a small town, and it did not take long to discover what was happening. He had moved in with another woman on the other side of the town.”

The grandmother paused and continued, “I wanted to divorce him, but we had four children. For their sake I decided to stay in the marriage.

“His coming and going continued until one day he returned and remained. There were no explanations, nothing. However, as time passed, bits of information came my way, and finally I could piece the story together. The woman he had been living with had become terminally ill. She was an outsider and was now living in one small room.”

The grandmother then explained how she went to see this other woman. The room was dirty, and the woman cared for herself poorly. She had little food and nobody to look after her.

The grandmother cleaned the room, made a meal for the woman, and from that day on, visited her husband’s former mistress daily to take care of her. The sick woman’s great concern was that she had no burial plot or money to pay for funeral expenses.

The grandmother got enough money together to take care of her while she lived and when she died. The grandmother’s story ended there. She told it as if she was describing the actions of a third party, and not her own.

The story has always remained with me. What’s interesting is that the grandmother was not yet a Christian when all this took place. Or, maybe, I should say she was a Christian and a Catholic before her time.

So what homily would I give if I were only allowed one in my life? I would preach about forgiveness, because I have found it easier to be a loving person than a forgiving person.

Columban Father Paddy Clarke retired in his native Ireland in 1999 after 45 years of ministry, mostly in Japan.