In their small communities, the focolarini live out their vocation for the glory of God, and the good of many others, including others of the Focolare family, and the majority of people who have no knowledge of such an ‘ideal’ of communion. Manfred, however, was not the type of person you would take for a deeply religious man, (and I know many monks in our monastery like that – others too, who are priests, or dedicated lay-people). Manfred was, and remained till the end, so human, earthy, moody, cheeky and, sometimes, hard to understand; the kind of person you would want to call your friend on a good day. Then, with the onset of his illness his life developed, and changed.

About April 2012

In February 2012, he was diagnosed with a brain tumour; since then, culminating in his death last week, 12th December 2013, he has lived knowing that he had an incurable and fast growing cancer. God gave him 18 months, and in that period, not only did he enter into a new phase of the holy journey of life himself, but he helped many others to face up to the challenges of their personal journey, including myself.

In November 2012, he gave an interview published in the ‘New City Magazine’. This outlines the change that occurred in him. In that interview Manfred was asked to share his reflections about his illness covering the past seven months:

“I think my illness has profoundly changed my life! Firstly it has shown me that I am totally in God’s hands. Whilst I may previously have lived an active life which gave me the illusion that I was actually doing something, now I realised that it was not the ‘doing’ that was effective but the ‘being’. I became aware of how much God loves me and has always loved me as I am. He does not want me to be perfect: he just wants me to love him above everything else. Suddenly the illness makes sense: it is there to make me love more, to be there for the others and to give my life to God, moment by moment. I realised the only thing I had was the present moment. I could worry about the future; I could regret the past but could change neither. My only chance was to live the present. It does not make the illness nice! It turns it into an opportunity.”

Manfred lived in communion and had many friends, some of whom share the spirituality that he entered as a young man. He explains in the same interview about why he dedicated his life to God in the Focolare community.

“I don’t really know to be honest! I don’t think I ever had a vocation in the ordinary sense of the word. It was a continual saying “yes” to what God proposed in each moment that brought me to here. I feel very strongly that I am not here because of my own merit, but because I had God’s help, through others, and through circumstances, to say yes to him in each moment. I realised that he, God, loves me, a creature, enormously! Well, to be loved by God, there really isn’t anything better”.

He also was asked why he had shared his experience on Facebook and through other social media.

“Very early on in the illness I understood I could not live this on my own. It all happened very publicly, it was something serious, and I tried to live communitarian spirituality, the spirituality of unity. So it was a logical step to communicate my experience on a daily basis on Facebook to all those who know me. I was keen not to exclude anybody and was careful about the language I used. I was convinced that ‘he who has ears to hear, let him hear’. Nobody was left out. I have the impression it created a community.

At the same time I was able to provide a blog for those who shared my own way of life. It was a sharing on a deeper level. It is a rich experience for me and I believe for many, because it allows me to show how much God is at work in us. It has allowed us to focus on what is really important and live with him in the present moment.”

(The whole interview with Manfred is still available on the Parish website: www.leylandstmarys.org.uk as a document that can be read; go to ‘Documents and Albums’, then scroll down to documents.)

 One thing that really impressed me about Manfred, that I find a daily help, was his discovery of ‘diamonds’ during the day. In other words, the special moments when there is a moment of love and joy, beyond the normal in some event, some encounter, some good moment. He found these very helpful moments with God. I have found these happening to me, too, each day; they can be found in so many ways. Today, for instance, I found myself preparing for the Christmas liturgy with a member of the music group. We shared about so many different things and got on with the task of preparing joyfully for the Christmas services. It was a joyful, happy, ‘diamond’ time.

Manfred in the later stages of his illness with his mother

The last time I saw Manfred was on November 8^th 2013. He was in bed permanently: his eyesight had gone, he was cared for by carers, who came in to see him four times a day, and by a wonderful companion focolarino, who had come over from Italy for the task, together with others in his house, who continued with their work, as best they could. It was a mammoth task, caring for him, as his needs were numerous; his personal hygiene, food, companionship, fear, prayer, loneliness, the unknown ahead … and the fact that he was so big and so heavy.

We were assembled there, and it was a good moment, for me, to give him the Sacrament of the Sick. Manfred was keen to be anointed, and as he was lying there, hardly able to see, he smiled, joked and, most certainly, it was another ‘diamond’ moment for me. I think, now, he will find that his life will be one of light and joy, in the company of so many others, in Jesus, with God the Father, the Holy Spirit and with Mary. May he continue to pray for each one of us, as love for him, from many still in this world lives on.

Father Jonathan