weep not for me

Station 8: Jesus meets the weeping women of Jerusalem


“A large crowd of people followed Jesus, including many women who mourned and lamented him. Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep instead for yourselves and for your children'"  Luke 23:27-28


I learned today that someone very dear to myself and many others is in the hospital, and expected to receive His divine summons soon.  This man is 98 years old, and one of the holiest humans I have had the blessing to encounter.  His name is Father Matt Robinson, and he has been a priest for 71 years.  He actually taught at my mom’s high school, Bishop Lynch, and my mom once went to the Dominican Priory with me for Mass, and recognized him.  She remembered him as a quiet soul, but a staunch and active supporter of the pro-life movement when it first began to take root.  

I knew him first by his slow gait between the parking lot and the UD chapel every Monday for his never failing appointment to preside at the 12:05 Mass.  He was quiet, he was joyful, he wore the peace of Christ like a an invisible, yet palpable garment. His habit was white, and it gracefully veiled his thin, stooped frame. Undaunted by quibbling things such as old age, he smiled and greeted in his quiet manner any soul that passed him by. As I began to venture to different venues for Mass, aka the Priory that was a good 3 minute walk from the UD campus, I heard more of his homilies, and witnessed his ministry to the people that came up to him before and after Mass. Often times he received a request or two or three, for post-Mass confessions.  I was today reminded of perhaps his most commonly used phrase that always followed a request like that: “Happy to help”.

I soon became accustomed to making my way to the priory when I needed confession and didn’t want to brave the line, or just needed to be in the presence of someone who so completely loves Jesus, and only wants others to know His Love for them as well.  I would go and ring the doorbell and he would almost always answer. I think he was the doorkeeper for the priory, which reminds me of a Scripture verse that so completely applies to him:


"Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked" Psalm 84:10

He would click the intercom and I would utter my sometimes desperate plea “Father, could you please hear my confession?”.  Always, always, the answer was “I’d be happy to help”.  He would come down in the elevator as quickly as his 96 years could manage, and usher me in, waving away any thought that I was taking him from his own rest.  His sole purpose was to be there for us poor children who needed to be near someone who radiated the Peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding.

He would first walk with me to the chapel and encourage me “to spend a few minutes with the Lord”.  He would tell me to take my time conversing with Jesus in the Eucharist.  Not only was I interrupting his life, but he willingly encouraged me to prolong the interruption. I don't think he ever thought of another human as an interruption. Just an opportunity to love more. When finally I would reach the little room set aside for this purpose, he would quietly listen as I rattled off my list.  When it was over, and I heaved a sigh of relief, he always spoke the same words, sometimes with a few new insights here and there, but always the message was the same.  

Leave it with the Lord. Look to the Holy Family for guidance and strength and hope. 

He loves the Holy Family, and there was a wooden carving of their faces in that room, and he would always point to it and speak of the beauty of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  And then he would give me the Holy Family blessing for my family and myself, and a copy of a prayer he loved.  A prayer he called very powerful, because it is a prayer asking the Holy Spirit to employ the gifts that were sealed within us at Baptism and in Confirmation.  He would always give me a few copies in case I lost one, or wanted to pass it on to a friend.  There was really no danger in me losing them, because I am pretty sure I had a copy of that prayer in every bag, purse, pocket or desk that I called my own.


Holy Spirit of God, take me as Thy disciple.
Guide me, instruct me, illuminate me.
Bind my hands, that they may do no evil.
Cover my eyes. that they may see evil no more.
Sanctify my heart, that evil may not dwell within it.
Be Thou my guide, be Thou my God!
Wherever Thou leadest me, I shall go.
Whatever Thou forbidest me, I shall renounce.
Whatever Thou commandest me, in Thy strength I shall do.
Lead me, then, unto the fullness of Thy truth.
Amen.


After that he would effortlessly ease into chat mode, asking me about school, my family, and my plans. When I asked him about himself, he always said he was getting along. There were a few things that came with getting old that were a bit of a challenge, but he was doing well on the whole. Never one complaint.  


I probably just described the experience of so many other students who went to the Priory to receive the Sacraments from Father Robinson. He loves each person as if they were Jesus coming to talk with him. I know, at least from my friends who also went to him often, that it was because they felt Jesus loving them straight through Father Matt that kept them going back. Because that's what we need most. To know we are infinitely loved by Jesus. And Father Robinson lives to share that truth with others..

And he loves babies.  

If there's a baby around after Mass, he wants to see the baby, and bless the families that came with the babies.  He has never stopped advocating for the right to life and an end to abortion.  

I heard this story about him, that gave me more insight into the beauty of his heart that burns like a quiet, yet brilliant flame in the darkness of this world. He was offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass one Sunday, and there was a baby crying in the back of the chapel. Instead of being frustrated, or annoyed like others might be if they are trying to talk over a wailing baby, Father Robinson looked up from whatever he was doing and said something to the effect of   "Let the child cry.  There are so many babies whose cries never get to be heard”.  

His heart belongs to Jesus, and even though he was in his late 90s by the time I met him, obviously deserving of a quiet, relaxing retirement, he did not see his life as his own.  He is a priest, a servant of God, the hands and feet of Jesus.  And if someone wanted to go to confession, or receive a Holy Family blessing from him, or spiritual direction, he is at their disposal.  


He has touched so many lives through his gentle, peaceful, compassionate, and loving response to God’s Love for him.  I believe he will continue to touch lives with the love of Christ so present in him until Jesus calls Him Home. He emptied himself and allowed Jesus to fill him with His self.  He has given his life to Christ, the Church.  
He has given his time and his love to any lost lamb that wandered into his meadow seeking a shepherd to point them towards Home again.

I believe he is a living saint, and I am so excited for him in that moment when Jesus welcomes him with outstretched arms to his True Home with the words: “Well done good and faithful servant”.  

I will not weep for Father Robinson. I will rejoice with him, and for Heaven gaining a new saint. I will remember his love for the unborn, and all those whom he encountered. I will weep instead for those children whose cries are never heard. I will weep for the lost souls who have not found their way to the Good Shepherd. I will seek to follow the example of Father Robinson, who took very seriously the words of Jesus: 


"No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends" John 15:13 


I just received a message from a dear friend and old roommate, Teresa, who is very close to Father Matt. Holy people tend to find each other and befriend each other, I have noticed, and that is the case with these two.  Here is an excerpt from the message that will give better insight into the one I have so tried to describe through my brief time with him:

"I know that you have come to love him with so much sincerity that you too will find comfort in knowing that if God does call him in the coming days, he will be one of His most cherished children coming home!! The choirs Fr. Matt may hear!!
I know that he is still in a lot of pain, so please be keeping him in your prayers. I know that he will be using every drop of his being for God's greater glory"


He uses every drop of his being for God's greater glory. That sums up Fr. Robinson perfectly. Thank you, dear Teresa.


*Please remember Father Robinson in your prayers, as well as all those he loved. Let us join him in continued prayer for the end to abortion and a greater respect for life. Born and unborn.

link to an article written by a UD student a while back about Father Robinson:
http://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth201514/m1/13/