Ah, Blessed Kevin of Beaver Dam! In truth nothing can better describe my dear departed brother in Christ better than the title “blessed”. For Kevin was blessed by God as long as I had known him and even longer still than my awareness of him. When I think of my beloved brother I am constantly reminded of the man born blind in John 9. When our Lord came upon him, His disciples asked of Him, “...who sinned, this man or his parents…,” but to this our Lord replied, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but that the works of God should be revealed through him.” In other translations I believe it reads that, “the glory of God should be revealed through him.” Christ goes on to mix some saliva with dirt to form clay and anointed the man’s eyes with the mixture. Upon being commanded by Christ to rinse his eyes in the pool of Siloam this man could see for the first time in his life, thus revealing the glory and loving kindness our God.

Such was the life of this remarkable man. Although he was never healed of his malady, nevertheless his life shone forth brilliantly the glory of God. At the tender age of nine months Kevin was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer and was operated on. Since the first days of his life on earth he was imprisoned within a body that, throughout his life, would literally decay around him. When I first met Blessed Kevin I had come to St. Thomas the Apostle in Kokomo to meet with Fr. Paul, who was Rector at that time. Kevin had only one eye at the time, the other was lost to cancer. You couldn’t notice though, unless you really looked, he had a glass eye. The three of us sat in the common room at the back of the church and conversed over spiritual matters. I had been newly baptized into the faith and Fr. Paul was intent upon introducing Kevin and me to each other (God bless you Fr. Paul). Kevin and I hit it off pretty well and soon we became best of friends. Many a time I would either pick Kevin up to spend Saturday night at my house or Kevin would find a way down. We would sit, talk and pray into the wee hours of the morning before going to Divine Liturgy.  During this time Kevin had a growing desire to become a monk but was always frustrated in his attempts due to his illness. As a matter of fact it seemed that when ever Kevin sought to embark upon some pious endeavor, the ugly head of cancer would rear its head.

He was, for example, an excellent artist and wanted to express his love for God through Iconography but then tragically lost his one remaining eye during an operation, the cancer being too invasive. I still remember an all but finished icon of Christ in his prayer corner, all done, ironically, except His face. It is to date still one of the most beautiful icons I’ve been blessed to see. Later it was his intention to go to a school for the blind to learn Braille in order to translate Scripture and the works of the holy fathers for the blind. Again cancer came into the picture and  he had to postpone his plans for up to a year while he suffered through Chemotherapy.  The following year he was able to attend but did not finish the year out due to his final struggle with cancer.

Although Kevin was constantly frustrated in his attempts to work for the glory of God, indeed many times I was a witness to his crying out to God in his suffering. He never once turned his face from Christ; quite to the contrary, he would search our Lord out even more intently. During the above described times, in between the operations and chemotherapy, he would make pilgrimages of ever widening circles to various monasteries and would ask me to take him. Unfortunately though I could not, given the nature of my job along with my commitments to my family, but that did not deter my precious brother in Christ. In time he would find others that could take him. Eventually he built a network of relationships with numerous abbots and priests. One such priest called him a “clergy magnate” at his wake and in my mind; high praise and an endearing term.

You see God revealed to Kevin that his infirmities were a blessing rather than a curse. The “blessing” of cancer freed him from having to work to make a living giving him both the time and opportunity to devote his full attention to running toward Christ, which he did with fervor. I remember in particular one Sunday morning before Divine Liturgy Kevin, I and another dear brother in Christ were all sitting in the office of St. Thomas. Kevin asked our brother to read an excerpt that he had copied somewhere from a book on the life of Elder Porphyrios of Attica where this holy elder described his many illnesses as blessings from God. Was Kevin curious about the sufferings of this holy elder? Certainly not! The brother that read suffered from chronic back pain and Kevin subtly, humbly was trying to communicate this revelation for our brother’s edification. This was the nature of Blessed Kevin. Kevin knew that, for what it’s worth, we all suffer and are pained to some extent in this life. What counts is how we use that suffering, do we use it to glorify God and strengthen those around us or do we become mired in our self pity and drive those away that we love? Kevin chose to turn his prison of flesh into a gateway to Jesus Christ, and I am only one of many that received great benefit from Kevin’s intercourse with divine love.

In closing I must first ask all who have read this for forgiveness and for their forbearance. Forgive me for boldness in writing, forgive me for any offense that might occur through my boldness and forgive me for actively seeking your forgiveness instead of patiently waiting for it. I did not write about these great men of God to display any oratory prowess on my part, in truth, there are multitudes of others far more elegant than I. I did not write these things to ingratiate myself to you, believe me when I say; there are far more pious men and women that more acutely radiate the image of Christ than I can, at Golgotha I stand far behind those that press ever closer to the precious life-giving Cross. No, I lay pen to paper because their story must be told! Sadly the world is extremely quick and adept at spotting shams and weakness but it is equally slow in seeing all the goodness that God has to offer.

A fellow worker once lamented  on how it was such a shame that miracles were so few and unusual. My response, to which my newly awakened heart has just become dimly aware, was that we are daily surrounded by miracles it’s just that we refuse to see them. Who needs to be confronted with a blind man suddenly seeing for the first time in his life when one can see a blind man miraculously transfigured into the image of Christ?

When Blessed Kevin slipped into repose he had lost both eyes, half of his mouth and a third of his facial structure. When one looked at him what they would see were gaping “soft spots” where the skull had been cut away and flesh covered sockets where eyes once resided. Paul too having fallen fast asleep was presented to the world as an aged man all used up, with nothing left to offer in this life. These are the images the world would walk away with, seeing both men imprisoned for life with death as their only reprieve. And walking away the world would repeat its oft used adage, “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die!” It grieves me sorely to say so, but in this they could not be more correct. But to those of the ilk to which I aspire, children of light, the image of Paul and Kevin would be radically different. The image that is evoked is of Paul the caretaker and Kevin, one who was taken care of, both equally blessed. I see now why both Martha and Mary are considered saints in the Church for in our hearts there is a place for both; the one that adores and the one that serves, allowing the other to adore. Both Paul and Kevin reside in my heart now, ever with me, maintaining the chambers of my heart that the Lord has cleansed.

Lately I find myself asking our Lord where I fit in all of this. What is my place in the divine order of these events? And God revealed to me where I stood in the scheme of things.  He led me to Psalm 51, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart-these, O God, You will not despise.” He showed me that Paul and Kevin, along with many others, lift my heart as a living sacrifice upon the alter of God’s love where there He breaks it and then crushes it to a fine powder. I have fallen upon the anvil of God’s mercy. It hurts so badly that like Elder Josef the Hesychast I cry unto God, “Enough! I can take no more, enough my Lord!” My spirit melts like wax before the Divine Flame. And there in my liquidity I find the lowest place, the place that is mine and ask God why does it hurt so?

 Christ smiles from within me and in His infinite wisdom and transcendent love says to me, “Sin is the disease that kills, but My mercy is a pain which heals.”

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God have mercy on me. . .a sinner.