I got this from a forwarded email. Read on. Something to think about.
John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in
>>Chicago writes about a student in his Theology of
>>Faith class named Tommy:
>>
>>Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my
>>university students file into the classroom for
>>our first session in the Theology of Faith. That
>>was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind
>>both blinked.
>>
>>He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung
>>six inches below his shoulders. It was the first
>>time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I
>>guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know
>>in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but
>>what's in it that counts; but on that day I was
>>unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately
>>filed Tommy under "S" for strange... very strange.
>>
>>Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence"
>>in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly
>>objected to, smirked at, or whined about the
>>possibility of an unconditionally loving
>>Father/God. We lived with each other in relative
>>peace for one semester, although I admit he was
>>for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
>>
>>When he came up at the end of the course to turn
>>in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do
>>you think I'll ever find God?"
>>
>>I decided instantly on a little shock therapy.
>>"No!" I said very emphatically.
>>"Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the
>>product you were pushing."
>>
>>I let him get five steps from the classroom door
>>and then called out, "Tommy! I don't think you'll
>>ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He
>>will find you!"
>>
>>He shrugged a little and left my class and my
>>life. I felt slightly disappointed at the thought
>>that he had missed my clever line --- He will find
>>you! At least I thought it was clever. Later I
>>heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly
>>grateful.
>>
>>Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had
>>terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he
>>came to see me. When he walked into my office, his
>>body was very badly wasted and the long hair had
>>all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But
>>his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for
>>the first time, I believe.
>>
>>"Tommy, I've thought about you so often.. I hear
>>you are sick," I blurted out.
>>"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs.
>>It's a matter of weeks."
>>"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.
>>"Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied.
>>"What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying?"
>>"Well, it could be worse."
>>"Like what?"
>>"Well, like being fifty and having no values or
>>ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze,
>>seducing women, and making money are the real
>>'biggies' in life."
>>
>>I began to look through my mental file cabinet
>>under 'S' where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It
>>seems as though everybody I try to reject by
>>classification, God sends back into my life to
>>educate me.)
>>
>>"But what I really came to see you about," Tom
>>said, "is something you said to me on the last day
>>of class." (He remembered!)
>>He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would
>>ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised
>>me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.' I
>>thought about that a lot, even though my search
>>for God was hardly intense at that time.
>>
>>(My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)
>>
>>"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin
>>and told me that it was malignant, that's when I
>>got serious about locating God.
>>
>>And when the malignancy spread into my vital
>>organs, I really began banging bloody fists
>>against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did
>>not come out.. In fact, nothing happened. Did you
>>ever try anything for a long time with great
>>effort and with no success? You get
>>psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And
>>then you quit.
>>
>>Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a
>>few more futile appeals over that high brick wall
>>to a God who may be or may not be there, I just
>>quit. I decided that I didn't really care about
>>God, about an after life, or anything like that. I
>>decided to spend what time I had left doing
>>something more profitable. I thought about you and
>>your class and I remembered something else you had
>>said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life
>>without loving. But it would be almost equally sad
>>to go through life and leave this world without
>>ever telling those you loved that you had loved
>>them.' "
>>
>>"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was
>>reading the newspaper when I
>>approached him. "Dad."
>>
>>"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper.
>>"Dad, I would like to talk with you."
>>"Well, talk."
>>"I mean. . . It's really important."
>>The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What
>>is it?"
>>"Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that."
>>
>>Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious
>>satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret
>>joy flowing inside of him.
>>
>>"The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my
>>father did two things I could never remember him
>>ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We
>>talked all night, even though he had to go to work
>>the next morning. It felt so good to be close to
>>my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to
>>hear him say that he loved me."
>>
>>"It was easier with my mother and little brother.
>>They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other,
>>and started saying real nice things to each other.
>>We shared the things we had been keeping secret
>>for so many years. I was only sorry about one
>>thing --- that I had waited so long.
>>
>>Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the
>>people I had actually been close to."
>>
>>"Then, one day I turned around and God was there.
>>He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I
>>guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a
>>hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give You
>>three days, three weeks.' Apparently God does
>>things in His own way and at His own hour. But the
>>important thing is that He was there. He found me!
>>You were right. He found me even after I stopped
>>looking for Him."
>>
>>"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are
>>saying something very important and much more
>>universal than you realize. To me, at least, you
>>are saying that the surest way to find God is not
>>to make Him a private possession, a problem
>>solver, or an instant consolation in time of need,
>>but rather by opening to love. You know, the
>>Apostle John said that.
>>
>>He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in
>>love is living with God and God is living in him.'
>>Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had
>>you in class you were a real pain. But
>>(laughingly) you can make it all up to me now.
>>Would you come into my present Theology of Faith
>>course and tell them what you have just told me?
>>If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half
>>as effective as if you were to tell them."
>>
>>"Ooh .... I was ready for you, but I don't know if
>>I'm ready for your class."
>>
>>"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready,
>>give me a call. In a few days Tom called, said he
>>was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that
>>for God and for me. So we scheduled a date.
>>However, he never made it. He had another
>>appointment, far more important than the one with
>>me and my class. Of course, his life was not
>>really ended by his death, only changed. He made
>>the great step from faith into vision. He found a
>>life far more beautiful than the eye of man has
>>ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the
>>mind of man has ever imagined. Before he died, we
>>talked one last time.
>>
>>"I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.
>>"I know, Tom."
>>"Will you tell them for me? Will you ... tell the
>>whole world for me?"
>>"I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best."
>>
>>So, to all of you who have been kind enough to
>>read this simple story about God's love, thank you
>>for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the
>>sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- I told them,
>>Tommy, as best I could.
>>
>>With thanks,
>>
>>Father John Powell, SJ
>>Associate Professor
>>Loyola University in Chicago
