Care and Feeding When in Need
A community shows its truest colors when the lonely beg not to be forgotten, the hurting ask for mercy, and the sick seek compassion. At the Casa, we believe the care and feeding of our community is essential and a form of healing that is filled with grace.
If you are ill or otherwise unable to come to the Casa for Mass and would like the opportunity to pray with someone and receive Eucharist, please call the Front Desk at 480.948.7460, or send us an e-mail using the form below. A member of our Pastoral Ministry team will contact you to arrange a visit.
Experiences with this Ministry
When did we find you sick or in prison and go to see you? (MT 25:39)
It just never occurred to me! Not everyone has the luxury of going to a church that feeds them, and inspires them to follow Christ on their spiritual journey … like the Casa, for example. The first thing that Dorris said to me when I visited her in the hospital was, “Oh, I don’t know… it’s been so long since I’ve been to church.” Then she hastily added, “But I pray every night, and ask the Lord’s forgiveness!” I had asked her if she’d like to receive communion. We prayed together, and we shared communion. As we finished, Dorris said, “I feel so much better already! Thank you for coming to see me.”
I can sense when someone I see in the hospital is going it alone…There’s no card, no balloons, no flowers — even the side chair is missing. It reminds me of the loneliness of Christ’s passion. Where are the families, the friends…?
I remember my visit with Jose, alone on the night before his surgery. His anxiety poured out in tears during our prayers together, and his gratitude flowed freely as he apologized for his emotions. How fortunate we are to have faith when our lives get difficult. And what a blessing to those of us visiting at the hospital, to be the face of Christ to our brothers and sisters who are going it alone.
With tears of gratitude
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the window, a panoramic view over the city, the distant mountains shimmering on the horizon. His eyes were closed. The nod of his head was just barely perceptible when asked if he’d like to receive Communion. “In the name of the Father,” he began. His prayer was whisper-soft, reverent, drawing the prayer deeply inward. “And forgive us our trespasses…,” he continued, with perhaps just a slight catch in his voice. “This is the Lamb of God…” Surely he would open his eyes now! “…The body of Christ.” He barely moved, but his lips parted just enough to receive the Sacrament. Then, in closing, “…bring us to everlasting life. Amen.” At last, his head slowly turned, tilted up toward me, and for the first time, his eyes opened, welling over with tears. He softly said, “Thank you.”
When I met Nick, he was the picture of despondency. It wouldn’t have come as a surprise if he’d told me he was living on the street. What he did tell me was, “They cut off my leg … then the doctor told me my heart is only at 10%.” When I asked if he’d like to receive communion, he said, “Oh yes, I still believe in my Jesus Christ.” We prayed together, and I sensed he wanted to say a little more. “I don’t know what I’m going to do… I don’t have anyone…” and a tear rolled down his cheek. “All I can do is pray…” Then after a bit, “Thank you for coming.”
I saw Nick again, a week after his surgery. The first thing he said to me was, “My prayers were answered! The next day, after I prayed and prayed, my son walked through that door… I don’t know how he found out I was here… I guess God sent him.” And once again, we prayed together.
Tomasita is very old. Her last days in this world are certainly drawing near. “Quieres commungar, Senora?” (“Would you like to receive communion?”) Without a moment’s hesitation, Tomasita says “yes” to communion. Daughter, grand-daughter and great grand-daughter — four generations — join in prayer as Tomasita receives the Body of Christ. It is perhaps her food for the final journey. From new life visits with young mothers to end of life visits and everything in between, we experience the joys, and the challenges, with our brothers and sisters on their journeys through life.