Parish Missions

Being a Sign of Hope

In New York's Greenwich Village of the twenties, there lived two

"starving artists." Sue and Johnsy (short for Joanna) struggled to

study and produce to keep body and soul together. It was probably

the long hours and less than well-heated dwelling that felled Johnsy

with what developed into a serious case of pneumonia.

As serious as the illness was the neighborhood doctor insisted

that Johnsy's desire to live would be the best prescription. But for

whatever reason -- Johnsy had lost her will to live. It may have been

the dim prospects for success or the constant struggle to make ends

meet. Whatever it was, Johnsy had lost hope.

Sue really became concerned one blustery November day when

Johnsy, barely able to talk, revealed that she would die when the last

leaf on the vine covered wall outside her bedroom window fell to the

ground. Even the pleadings of their aging, errant protector, Mr.

Behrman, couldn't assuage Johnsy's conviction that she was near

death.

Johnsy’s condition worsened as each day she awoke to find fewer

and fewer leaves on the vine. Finally just one last leaf remained. The

next day it was still there. And the next. On the third day Johnsy asked

for some broth and sat up for the first time. The doctor came and

pronounced that she was out of danger.

"You're very lucky, young woman," the doctor announced. "Old

Mr. Behrman, that would-be artist from the basement apartment, wasn't

so lucky. He went very quickly. Just two mornings ago they found him

on the ground between the two buildings soaked to the skin and in

considerable pain. Nearby were a ladder, a palette of yellows and

greens and some brushes."

It was then that Sue pointed to the last leaf on the wall. "That's why

it never fell. Behrman did paint his masterpiece, Johnsy, he painted it

there the night that the last leaf fell."

Adapted from "The Last Leaf," by O. Henry

As the Church year draws to a close, the Word of God calls us to look around and see the signs of distress. Whether it’s a young woman giving up on life, the barren trees in our own environment, the seeming hopelessness of the current economic and political climate, or the endless chorus of hunger, suffering, and violence that bombards us from around the globe, we are confronted with distressing signs.

But that is not the whole picture. Mark proclaims that when we see these signs we will also see the Son of Man coming on the clouds with great glory and power. Daniel's vision of the "time of distress" includes the promise that "those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever." The Scriptures clearly point to signs of hope in times of distress.

The Good News here is that each of us is called to be that sign for one another and for the world. In this Eucharist we gather to celebrate God's promise fulfilled in Jesus Christ. In our communion we pledge with our "AMEN!" to become his Body to the world. We are the Body of Christ. We are the Sacrament of his presence in this broken world. How will we be that sign of hope?

Our own determination to curb our anger in personal conflict can be the sign of hope in the face of the violence that surrounds us, whether in Afghanistan or Fort Hood. Our willingness to accept responsibility for the disposal of waste and the use of the earth’s resources can be a sign of hope for our planet.

Being outspoken about the need for the health and wellbeing of those in our cities who struggle to maintain their dignity in the face of poverty and unemployment need not be of the heroic proportions of a Mr. Behrman to offer hope. Especially in our own families we can see that the call to be signs of hope is so often in the little things we do or say.

Wherever we see signs of distress, we recognize the call of our Sunday Eucharist to be the Body of Christ. For the Eucharist allows us to be transformed in the Spirit to be a sign of hope to those in distress--to become a sign of the New Creation.

Like old Mr. Behrman, who used his talent to create a sign of hope for Johnsy, we are called today to use our imaginations, to be creative in searching for ways to alleviate the suffering and pain around us. His own weakness did not stay him from offering all he had to be a sign of hope. This Eucharist, itself the sacrament of hope, invites us to be that sign -- that sacrament -- until we "see the Son of God coming on the clouds with great power and glory." Then "those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever."