Too busy to be present
People who say they’re too busy often experience burnout, strained relationship, and muddled priorities. If you find yourself swirling in frenetic activity, you are probably in a bind like Mitch Albom who could not decide which is more important – to be present to a dying friend or to continue a phone conversation with a business partner. In his best-selling book, Tuesdays with Morrie, Albom recounts the first day he visited his old professor Morrie Schwartz who had become terminally ill with a nervous system disease. He writes:
“I had not seen him for sixteen years. I was hoping that Morrie had not noticed my arrival so I could drive around the block a few more times to finish my conversation on the phone. But I saw him, already smiling at me, waiting for me to come out of the car. For all the kindness he had shown me when I was young, I should have dropped the phone and jumped out of the car, run and held and kissed him hello. Instead, I killed the engine and sunk down off the seat, pretending to look for something, while continuing my phone conversation.
“I did what I used to do best— multitasking, even while my dying professor waited on his front lawn. After my phone conversation, I went to Morrie and told him that I was looking for my key that’s why it took me so long to get out of the car. I only hoped that, for the next few hours, I could fool him.”
Albom was lucky because in the short time that he had spent with his dear professor, he was able to say
“Thank You!” to him. Albom also learned never to put his friends and loved ones at the bottom of his priorities.
Pope Francis was not that lucky. In 1961, while he was still a student in Philosophy, Jorge Mario Bergoglio (his name before he became Pope) went to a hospital to visit Fr. Enrico Pozzoli, a Salesian priest who was his mentor, adviser, and spiritual guide for many years.
When Jorge arrived at the hospital, Fr. Enrico was asleep, so he went out of the room and chatted with the people in the corridor. Soon, he was told by a priest that Fr. Pozzoli had awakened and was ready to see him. But having lingered too long in the hospital, Jorge told the priest: “Tell Fr. Enrico that I had already left.”
When Fr. Enrico died a few days later, Jorge was overwhelmed with guilt and regret. He did not even have the chance to say goodbye to this priest who had showered him with kindness and generosity. Twentyeight years later, in one of his letters, he confessed that he was still bothered by the fact that he lied to Fr. Enrico at a time when he needed him most.
That event in his life taught him that deep inside us, there lurks the tendency to be indifferent, unloving, and selfish when our priorities are not set right. We can refuse to be present to those who matter most to us because we lose our sense of perspective. We can no longer distinguish between what is urgent and what is important, between what is trivial and what is necessary.
Our gospel reading contains a powerful reminder for those who are drowning in breathless activism:
“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). The “rest” that Jesus promised comes from acknowledging that God can do more for us, if only we allow Him to. Being too busy makes us revel in the illusion that we are achieving much, when in reality we are setting ourselves up for disappointment.
“In vain is your earlier rising, your going later to rest, you who toil for the bread you eat, when He pours gifts on His beloved while they slumber” (Ps 127:2).