Be at peace, whatever the call you take, don’t confuse others and yourself
September 27, 2026
This morning, a hangover from the previous night, was such a Yes/No decision.
A friend of my wife called to say she was having severe chest pain. This lady lives on the opposite end of the city. My phobia kicked in. I don’t like long car journeys, especially in a city notorious for traffic snarls that only an ambulance with its screeching siren can wedge its way through.
I suggested to my wife to inform some of our relatives in the area from which the lady called to look in on the person. If it is a serious issue, then do the needful. If, by the time the 911 relative team arrives at this person’s home, and she is sitting pretty and in the prime of health save for a panic attack or a bad case of gas, wish her goodnight and come home. Apologies in advance for the inconvenience.
With this sage advice, I retired to bed for day-end reflection and priming myself on the Church Missals of the next day. At 4 am I was awake to attend the first Mass of the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time at 6 am. My wife charged into the room, saying the late-night caller was not answering the phone. While awake at 4 am, it was “a-bit-of-both” mind fog answer that my son, who works night shift, gave me when I asked him, “Are you waking up or going to sleep?”
My wife said, “I am going across town to her place.” I asked my wife to call up our relatives who live nearby and ask them to check on this person. So, she called a poor blighter at 4 am and he actually answered the phone. Amazing people keep their phone up all night. The rest is a blur for me. Perhaps my wife and this person, who did not know the address of the late-night caller, agreed to rendezvous at a known place and proceed from there. My wife asked me to come. I said, no. Not without a plan.
I asked my wife if we could get hold of this lady’s brother-in-law, who is a doctor, and the lady’s sister who stayed nearby, to check on her. My wife said she does not have the number, despite asking this lady on many occasions to share their number in case of exactly this kind of emergency. The lady would not share. I don’t wish to speculate why or why not. It is a meaningless pursuit.
I asked my wife again, “What is your plan”? My daughter, who had once booked an Uber for this lady, was awakened to get the exact address. Then one could Google search and get hold of someone’s number in that condo and alert them that we are dealing with this issue.
My resistance to my wife wanting to go there had to do with the three possibilities: one, the lady was fine, in a deep sleep and therefore not answering the phone. Two, the lady had got through to the doctor or her sister (she had tried them before calling my wife), and they had finally responded. And all was well. If not, the doctor would have hospitalised her. All may not be great, but at least under the control of her closest relative and a medical professional. Three, she had succumbed to the heart attack and was lying comatose at home. This lady lived alone.
Once again, I asked my wife, “What’s our plan?” The first two scenarios were good news, so not a concern. What about the morbid scenario? If we reach her place and she does not answer the door or her phone? What were we going to do? Break down the door? Wake up the neighbours? Call the police? My wife and my daughter answered, “We will worry about it then.”
My daughter, a sensible girl, had decided I was not being helpful, but full of excuses, unwilling to make the transatlantic trip to accompany my wife on a mission of love and service. She was partly right. They went their way. And I went my way to attend the Eucharistic Celebrations. In my heart, the solution to this dilemma lay in the Good Lord’s hands. Better for me to spend time in prayer, let the morning break, and whatever is to be will be.
Unlike my night owl son or the poor blighter who was woken up at 4 am, I switch off my phone before entering the House of God. It helps me only a little. I am distracted by the messages on the phone on the pew in front of me; it is on silent, but the messages flash, vibrate, and beg to be seen. I am conflicted. To see or not see? I don’t succumb to the temptation.
Instead, I focus on the Gospel Reading from Matthew 21:28-32, The Parable of the Two Sons. The vineyard played a significant role, laden with deep spiritual meaning for the Israelites, led out of Egypt into the Promised Land, a wasteland that God transformed for His chosen:
“You transplanted a vine from Egypt; you drove out the nations and planted it. You cleared the ground for it, and it took root and filled the land. The mountains were covered with its shade, the mighty cedars with its branches. Its branches reached as far as the Sea, its shoots as far as the River.” (Ps 80:8-11)
The parallel is about our relationship with our heavenly Father. The first son had a relationship. He said no to his father, but on reflection he agreed to go into the vineyard to work. The second son formerly said, “Yes, sir”, but did not go. He clearly had issues with the father or himself. Neither was anything laudable like the first son’s about-turn.
Now I wonder about my relationship with my wife. My daughter said, “Yes”, and she went. I said “No” and stayed back to go to Church. Putting reason above “going there and figuring it out.” I will forever be conflicted with the decision. Unsure I did the right thing by going to Church instead of accompanying my panicking wife, despite my daughter being with my wife.
When I switched the phone on after Mass, there was a message from my daughter and wife. They were in the house with the lady - in poor or good health, I still don’t know. No more messages for me to confirm to you. When my wife comes back, will it be the vineyard or the backyard for me? Only God knows.
- Mathew Anthony
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