‘I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!

. . . Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?
No, I tell you, but rather division.’

Today’s Gospel is startling. When I was young, I found it scary because I wanted people to like me, and division sounded confrontational. Yet, fire burns away every burden and sin that clings to us and helps us persevere in running the race (Heb 12:2).  Further, [we must] consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that [we] . . . may not grow weary and lose heart.

And so, these words of Jesus are ultimately meant for hope.

As I started raising my own little band in my domestic church, I realized that I might face some of the same difficulties in winning souls for Christ. I took hope, too, that I could run the race and persevere, that I might not grow weary and lose heart. So, any time there were divisions in our family, I cried out to the Lord for wisdom and perseverance, and he answered me. Not immediately, of course, but gradually, peace was restored. As it was for Jesus, so it was for the apostles, and so it was for me and my family.

The hardest, most challenging division I faced was with my mother-in-law, Claire. She had married at eighteen and had faced many challenges. It wasn’t too long before she started neglecting Mass. By the time I met her, she no longer went to Mass or wanted to discuss religion. Not surprisingly, she was not fond of me, a young, charismatic Catholic. This was a great sorrow for me. For many years, I prayed for Claire, that she would receive faith—and that she would know that I loved and respected her.

Claire lived in Massachusetts, and when she reached her last days, I decided to make the thousand mile trip to, hopefully, help Claire prepare for death. My husband, Russ, would come later.

She was surprised and somewhat happy to see me, especially once she realized that I could be of help to her. Those first few days, I filled her glass with water, hung up the latest pictures of her grandchildren and the great-grandchild she had never met. 

About three days into my visit, however, Claire’s nurse explained to me that too much water was not good for Claire since she needed nutrients. After that, when Claire requested that I bring her water, I said that I wasn’t allowed to. I tried to explain why, but Claire got angry with me and demanded that I leave. I still visited every day, but after ten or fifteen minutes, Claire made it very clear that she no longer wanted me there.

I thought about today’s Gospel—how Jesus was bringing fire and division even between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. I prayed for healing in my relationship with Claire—that the Lord would burn away all that stood between us.

After I had been there for three weeks, Claire looked at me and asked, “Why are you here?” I told her that I loved her—and that I was also bringing the love of Jesus and of her son who wasn’t able to be here. She then asked, “Why would you love me?” “Because you are the mother of my husband and the grandmother of my children. Of course, I love you.” She was quiet after that and soon fell asleep.

The next few days, our visits were peaceful. Claire no longer asked me to bring her water or became angry with me or demanded that I leave, although she still did not want me to pray out loud for her. Yet, the division between us seemed to be lessening. When she began sleeping, I would silently pray the Rosary.

Finally, Russ arrived and was able to stay a few days. Claire was very happy, but quite weak, and we could not stay more than a half hour with her at each visit. He, too, asked if he could pray out loud for her. Again, she rejected the request. We prayed very hard after we left, beseeching the Lord on her behalf.

On our last day visiting Claire, Russ asked his mom to pray the Our Father with us, and she agreed. Although she did not quite remember all of it, she was able to pray along with us through most of it. Then she thanked us for praying with her and for spending so much time with her.

As we left, we rejoiced in the Lord. It seemed that Christ had at last burned away the anger and hurt that had plagued Claire for so long, and she had opened herself to the love of the Father. His love for her and our kindness to her had opened her heart.

Three weeks later, we returned for Claire’s funeral—grateful that the priest from the Polish parish that her grandmother and grandfather had helped build was happy to say her Mass. Russ and I praised God for all that he had done for Claire during her last summer, and we are full of hope for her salvation.