Amidst her ministry to the suffering bodies and souls of Calcutta and the Third World, Blessed Mother Teresa had the spiritual vision to focus as well on the hidden ills of the First World.
“The greatest disease in the West today is not TB or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved and uncared for,” she wrote in her book, “A Simple Path.” “We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread, but there are many more dying for a little love.”
Vincent Scozzari, 76, spent a month in Rome in 2014 volunteering at a hospice for disabled men run by Blessed Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity. Since returning home and beginning new responsibilities as director of pastoral care for Christopher Homes – the affordable senior housing arm of the Archdiocese of New Orleans – Scozzari has been touched by the wisdom of Blessed Teresa’s spiritual insights.
Every day in his pastoral visits to Christopher Homes’ residents, Scozzari has the chance to reignite and share his Catholic faith with residents who are about his age.
“We are supposed to be a ministry of presence,” Scozzari said. “What I do is a catechesis of the heart, rather than a catechesis of the head. The residents are at the point in their lives where they just want to feel the presence of Jesus.”
Usually, Scozzari will see at the senior’s bedside framed pictures of a son or a daughter or grandchildren, and that will trigger a personal conversation.
Sometimes, the photographs elicit touching memories of joyous family moments. Other times, the pictures lead to Mother Teresa, the city of Calcutta and the spiritual abyss of the First World.
“One thing that kind of surprised me is that so many residents are left alone by their families,” Scozzari said. “Their families don’t come; the children are too busy, even though they live in the city.”
Scozzari said he made a rookie mistake just after Mother’s Day when he asked a small group of residents how their celebration had turned out. Some mothers had received family vists; many others did not.
“Some said, ‘My children didn’t even bother to call,’” Scozzari said. “That’s sad.”
In reflecting on and trying to bridge the disconnection in family life, Scozzari has made a point of telling residents they could “look at each other as family.”
Also on Scozzari’s team of pastoral care ministers is Religious of the Sacred Heart Sister Annice Callahan and Dominican Sister of Adrian, Michigan, Judy Zynda.
Sister Annice recently completed a series on how a person can prepare spiritually and emotionally for death. Sister Judy facilitated a program in which seminarians from Notre Dame Seminary met and interacted with the residents.
Scozzari often asks the residents open-ended questions, not knowing where the conversation might lead. One day he asked, “When’s the last time you felt God talk to you?”
A woman pointed to her heart.
“He talks to me right here,” she told Scozzari. “After Katrina, my son was lifting people out of the water and putting them in boats. My son heard a noise and thought it was a dog. It turned out to be a baby. He lifted the baby up to the boat, and then a wave of water came and drowned my son. I had a heart attack (later). God talks to me through my pacemaker.”
Another woman said: “Yeah, God talked to me at 9:30 this morning. The phone rang and I picked it up and I said, ‘Who is this?’ and the man said, ‘Momma, this is your son.’ I hadn’t seen or heard from him in 20 years. He said, ‘Momma, I’m so sorry for all I’ve done.’ And I said, ‘Don’t go there. I’ve been praying for you every day.’ He said, ‘I’m coming home.’”
A cancer patient, who spends his day in a wheelchair, used to love cooking for himself. Now he’s been overwhelmed, Scozzari said, by the women residents who bring him “plenty of good food.”
Scozzari always brings a few snacks with him to feed the residents’ bodies, and when he visits with a resident one on one, he leaves a small crucifix and a holy card with Jesus on the front side and the Our Father on the back.
A man who has lost contact with his son, who now lives in Australia, filled up with tears as he held the card. After they said the Our Father together, Scozzari walked to the door. The resident’s eyes were fixed on the image of Jesus. The resident was crying.
“Are you coming back?” he asked.
Scozzari says volunteers to visit with residents are welcome. Call Christopher Homes at 596-3460. Rosaries are also needed.