Undaunted: Preaching From a Hospital Bed

One of the original members of the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal, he doesn't plan to stop preaching for renewal in the lives of Christians. His physical condition, however, could force him to do his worldwide preaching from home.

Father Groeschel spoke April 17 with Register news editor John Burger at the New York hospital where he's been recuperating.

I wonder if you could tell us in your own words what happened to you. What do you remember of this whole incident?

Well as a matter of fact I hardly remember anything. I had gone down to Florida to teach in a national priests program. I met there another priest and a young fellow who works at our retreat house. They were getting a rented car, and I went to buy them some Span-ish/Mexican food. And there was a large road there, and to cross the road you had to wait for the traffic to get thin. And I did wait.

You remember that.

Yes, and there was a bus coming along, or a truck, and I waited for that and walked out toward it because there was no other traffic, and I did not see that there was a car right behind it. So I stepped in front of the car not knowing it was there. And I was thrown about 40 feet.

What do your remember from that point. Do you remember feeling the impact?

I hardly remember anything for another month, probably because they give you a great deal of medication that has narcotics in it. But I can tell you what did happen. I was quite conscious until I got to the hospital, which is an excellent trauma center called Orlando Regional Medical Center.

There the doctors worked very hard on me and I began to lose consciousness, and finally I had no vital signs at all. It was hopeless. I had no pulse, no heartbeat, no vital signs like blood pressure — nothing. So they after three hours were starting to take off their gloves, and the young priest, Father John Lynch, begged them not to give up.

So they went back, and in 15 minutes they had a heartbeat. And they stayed at it for another three hours and got me upstairs. It was still touch and go. In fact, two weeks later my heart stopped, and we had another crisis, none of which I recall. I was totally surprised when I woke up and they told me what had happened.

I was then brought up here, where I've been very nicely cared for. I'm now preparing to go to an intensive rehabilitation program because I have a broken leg, broken elbow and broken shoulder.

At what point did you start to come to, to again be aware that you were alive, and start remembering the event?

As soon as I woke up that day, almost a month after, I realized what had happened. I was on a respirator, which means you can't speak or eat or even drink any liquid. No water. I've always joked about purgatory, and I'll never joke about purgatory again — because I was there. I was on that respirator, flying up in the plane and here in the hospital. They were very cautious. I stayed on the respirator almost two months.

Can you describe the experience since then, what it's been like for you, the pain, the suffering?

Of course it was not pleasant, the suffering. But what I decided to do, since I knew I was going to be silent for a month, was that I would make a rosary retreat. So I said the rosary many times every day, meditating on the mysteries. The mysteries that became very meaningful to me were the Resurrection and the Coronation of Our Blessed Mother.

Why was that?

Well, because I was looking forward. When you're on the threshold of death, it's wise to look ahead and to look ahead, and people look ahead, if they do look ahead, and they think of purgatory. But purgatory is not our goal. Heaven is our goal. That's where we're headed.

I had seen an early screening of Mel Gibson's film The Passion of the Christ, and it struck me that there wasn't one suffering possible that Our Lord missed. All suffering seems to have come to a crescendo in that event, and why should I be different? Why should I miss something in my particular suffering? I wouldn't say that was consoling, but it gave you a motive for going on.

For years I've been telling people to trust God. I don't mean that God caused the accident. Accidents are accidents. God can use evil to do good.

St. Augustine's great phrase: “God does not cause evil but he causes that evil will not become the worst.” So here I am. And my life has changed. I probably will not be an itinerant preacher. I'll stay home and do television at home and radio broadcasts at home and give retreats at home and write books at home. So I may get more done than roaming around the airports of the world.

Has this experience changed you in any profound way?

I hope so. I hope everything that happens to us changes us for the better. I had a lot of time to meditate on my shortcomings and my sins. That's why there was a purgatorial aspect to this.

When we get to purgatory, according to St. Catherine of Genoa and Cardinal Newman, the first thing is that we find out the true spiritual state of our souls and in that silence I had an opportunity to do that — not perfectly — but it was a purgatory.

Then of course you offer things for the Church, for others, for conversion — the beautiful prayer we used to say, and which I still say: “O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer you all the prayers, works and sufferings of this day in atonement for my own sins and those of the world and for the salvation of souls.” So it wasn't wasted.

You know, in my journey through the hospitals, I met very devout people who have been incapacitated for years — completely incapacitated. And we don't think about them very often. They don't move, they can't move. Their lives are meaningful to God, and some of them are very close to God. Some of them don't realize how close to God they are.

You have been preaching for some 40 years, something you love. Now you haven't been able to do it. How have you been coping with that?

Well, the best I could. We daily put a little letter from me on the friars' Internet site, www.francis-canfriars.com, as I've been trying to keep my hand into writing. And also we did a little television. Our boys home in Brooklyn have the television equipment and they know how to use it. They often do my shows. So they came here and we did some spots for EWTN and the Internet, telling people I was grateful, giving some thoughts.

I planned out a couple of books while I was there. You know, I wrote a book called Arise From Darkness, the most popular book I ever wrote, and people are very fond of that book. But one of the things the book does not face is catastrophe. Everybody has sorrows, but not everybody has catastrophes. But a lot of people have catastrophes … a member of their family is killed by a train … they're in a car and one of their relatives is killed in the car … the house burns down, children are killed.

Catastrophes are common enough, and you see them in the paper every day and we haven't seriously, I think, confronted catastrophe and trust in God. People think trusting in God means “I won't have any catastrophes.” Go look at Gibson's film. Was that necessary? Why didn't we go from the Last Supper to the Resurrection? Why did we have to go through that?

I'm sure that question must have come to the Blessed Virgin. It had to. She was the mother of Christ. A mother would not be asking why. Christ himself on the cross says, “Why have you forsaken me?” You don't get stuck with the question. Padre Pio used to say, “Don't ask why. Ask what.” What am I supposed to do? … A great many people I talk to, in their family history, there is a catastrophe.

Are there any other plans you have in mind?

My motto is, “Don't make plans,” but there are tentative plans, if I do get better, to write and to preach, mostly on television and radio. You know, you give a talk on television, you reach 10 million people; you fly to the other side of the country and you give a talk to 1,000 people. The arithmetic is rather easy. …

But always, whatever we do, Jesus tells us to seek first the Kingdom of heaven. I think if you look at the religious problem in Christianity or in the Church in this country or throughout the world, you should say to yourself, “Are we seeking first the Kingdom of heaven?” Read the history of the Church: When the Church has gotten into trouble, it wasn't seeking first the Kingdom of heaven.

You've also been involved in the cause for canonization of Cardinal Terence Cooke, the former archbishop of New York. He suffered very quietly with cancer. Do you think much about him, what he went through and what you're going through now?

His picture is up in my hospital room. It's better not to compare too many things, just to live through it. I have to confess to you that at times a sadness comes over me, and I have to renew my act of faith and confidence. People think that when you believe in God and trust God, it's all over, it's perfectly done, the door is closed. It doesn't work that way. You've got to renew your commitment daily, sometimes hourly.