What does a priest do when he’s unexpectedly facing the final days of his life?

This story from the Boston Globe offers an answer — and a lesson:

Father Field is having one of his good days.

It’s Pentecost Sunday – the birthday of the Christian church – and the pews are packed. The parishioners who took medicine to the Dominican Republic are giving their report. The Kilpatrick family is here for baby Brendan’s baptism. And after Mass, the whole congregation will gather out front to pose for its annual photo. Father Field can feel the adrenaline rush, and he is upbeat, funny, and familiar, as he walks the center aisle, clasping his hands and closing his eyes as he sings “Lord, Send Out Your Spirit.”

There are bad days, too. On Holy Thursday, Father Field was doubled up on the floor in pain. His vulnerability to infection means he has to wear a mask to visit those who are sick; some weeks, he can’t shake hands during the sign of peace, and on rare occasions he even avoids distributing Communion.

The Rev. James A. Field has spent years helping others cope with death and dying. He has anointed the sick, buried the dead, and comforted the bereaved.

But now he is confronting his own mortality, much earlier than he had expected. He is 58 years old and he has pancreatic cancer, an incurable and fast-moving disease that he knows he can’t survive. And, in a step that has rallied the Parish of the Incarnation of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ around its pastor, Field is bringing the congregation along on his uncommonly public final journey, preaching and writing about each up and down. “This is what I got, and this is how I deal with it,” he says. “I’m a teacher, and this is a teachable moment.”

Field could have retired or gone on sick leave, but he has chosen to remain with the parish community he loves, and he is using the march of cancer across his body as a text from which to preach on Catholic notions about suffering, hope, and faith.

The parish, in turn, is pitching in as much as Field will allow. When he is feeling well, which is much of the time, he prefers to keep working. When he is weak, parishioners run errands, give rides, and set up the church. And if he is hospitalized, retired priests come say Mass. His longtime pastoral associate, Linda Swett, is planning to have parishioners stay with him in the rectory if that becomes necessary – Field and his 4-year-old Welsh Corgi, Sophia, live by themselves in a house built for four priests and a housekeeper.

“Right away, when I got sick, I knew that I was loved,” he says. “After a certain number of hugs and kisses and cards and seeing people with tears in their eyes, you just get the sense, this is how God loves me.”

You’ll want to read the rest.

H/T to Dracut Musings.