It was near the end of the E.R. resident’s second straight week of 14-hour night shifts. She was nauseated and cold from fatigue.
At 5 A.M. she was called to the examining room to see an 86-year-old man. Looking at the triage report, she had him categorized immediately: He’s going to be demented. He won’t be able to give me any history. Taking a deep breath, she began.
“I’m sorry to wake you, sir”, she said, trying not to overreact, reminding herself that this happens countless times. “Here’s some water”, offering him a glass.
As he sipped, she started firing questions at him about his symptoms and medical history. His speech was painfully slow, his answers inconclusive. She tossed the chart aside. On to the physical examination.
“My hands are cold”, she warned.
“Do what you have to do, Doctor”.
The doctor placed her frigid palm on his chest as she listened through her stethoscope. He didn’t flinch.
When she finished, he grasped her hand. Then the old man, who moved so slowly and painfully, began to rub her hand rapidly between his. The doctor stared at him with a combination of disbelief and annoyance.
“To warm you up, Doctor. My wife also gets cold when she’s tired. This helps her. You should be taking care of yourself; not old men like me”.
When he finished rubbing one hand, he took her other one. It felt incredibly good; the doctor continued to watch, but now in amazement.
He was the sick one, not her. And yet this man, the object of her impatience, was concerned about her well-being.
The doctor’s haste dissipated. At that moment, it was the patient, not the doctor, who had the healing touch.
The “voice” of Christ speaks to all of us – but to hear his voice demands that we come out of the soundproof isolation of our own interests and needs and hear Christ speaking in the plight of the poor, the needs of the helpless, the cry of the persecuted. Easter faith calls us to put aside our own crosses when we hear the voice of Jesus pleading in the struggle of those being crushed under the weight of their crosses; to rise above our own pain when we hear the voice of Jesus crying out in the pain of others; to give from our treasure when we hear the voice of Jesus begging in the poverty of others.
Archive for the ‘Cycle C’ Category
A Lesson in Bedside Manner 5-8-2022
Wednesday, May 4th, 2022In Praise of Compost 5-1-2022
Friday, April 29th, 2022As spring warms the earth, the work of the garden begins. And, as every serious gardener knows, compost is not a pile of garbage but life itself.
Gardeners have long realized the secret of the compost pile for nourishing and maintaining a garden of beauty and bounty. In a compost pile, nature transforms our unused, unwanted scraps into nutrient-rich soil. Like the garden itself, the compost heap rests during the cold winter months under the snow, slowly changing in form from a pile of dead leaves and rotting food into humus, nature’s own rich fertilizer.
Yes, it stinks, it generates heat, it’s an ugly pile. But it is one of nature’s most amazing metamorphoses. The brown of dead leaves provides the carbon; the green of fruits and vegetables, as well as the eggshells and coffee grounds, are rich in nitrogen. Bacteria and fungi, earthworms and insects break the material down. Rain, air, time and temperature transform the worthless and unwanted into the richest of soil for the most bountiful of harvests.
In this Easter springtime, composting can be more than a gardening miracle but a living parable of the transformation we can affect in our own lives. In God’s time, with God’s grace, we can transform the “scraps”, the hurts, the disappointments of our lives into a rich “humus” in which the life and love of God can take root and flourish. The Easter Jesus shows us that change is always possible, that we can always begin again and again and again. Like good composting, such transformation demands the hard work of surrendering our brokenness, our insensitivity, our stubbornness, our self-absorption, and placing it all in the “pile”, then trusting God to work his miracle of transformation. The compost pile teaches us to embrace life, to reject nothing, to be open to mystery, to become what God desires of us all: to be humus, to be human.
Easter People 4-17-2022
Wednesday, April 13th, 2022In one family, it is a Good Friday. A job has been lost, a career derailed. A serious illness has been diagnosed. A once-loving relationship has unraveled. But the other members of the family put aside their own lives and come together at the foot of their loved one’s cross. Their love moves whatever mountain necessary, changes the course of whatever river is in their way. Together, Mom and Dad and Sister and Brother, Step Parent, Single Parent, and Grandparent bear one another’s crosses to bring hope, healing, forgiveness — and resurrection — to every aspect of their life together as a family. The love of our families can transform tragic and desperate Good Fridays into Easter hope.
In this classroom, it is a Good Friday. The numbers and diagrams in the algebra text are a maze to the student. She is lost and frustrated and discouraged and wants to quit. A tired, overworked teacher just wants to go home after a long week; but, seeing her student’s frustration, she takes off her coat, puts down her pile of books and papers, and patiently walks through the problems with the befuddled student. After a lot of hard work and patience, the “lights come on.” A teacher’s selfless caring and generous gift of time transform this student’s Good Friday into Easter light.
At corporate, it is Good Friday. A single mother has lost all of her vacation and leave time to care for her seriously ill child. She is about to lose her job – and the important medical benefits critical to her family’s survival. Her co-workers devise a plan to pool some of their vacation time and cover her responsibilities so that she can keep her job and benefits while caring for her son. A Good Friday of desperation is transformed into an Easter of possibility.
If we are honest, all of us sometimes find ourselves stuck in a Good Friday world – our problems batter us, overwhelm us, strain our ability to cope and make it all work. Our Alleluias are tempered by reality; we approach this Easter Day with “Christ is risen, BUT…” But in raising his son from the dead, God affirms the Good news of his Christ: that good can conquer evil, that love can transform hatred, that light can shatter the darkness. We need to remember and remember it well, the story of Jesus whether told in the Bible or on a movie screen does not end in the cold hopelessness of the cross but reaches ultimate fulfillment in the Resurrection. Easter calls us to embrace the Risen One’s compassion and openness of heart and spirit, enabling us to transform the Good Fridays of our lives into Easter mornings.
This Easter morning I close with a challenge for all of us!
Some years ago, I was in Rome on Palm Sunday with the youth from our Diocese for World Youth Day. We all had the opportunity to hear Mother Theresa of Calcutta speak.
I remember well what she said:
“Death has not put a stop to the mission of Jesus. His mission is to be carried on through us. Living witnesses of his presence.” The challenge, to be Easter People — not just today, but everyday. People whose lives not just their mouths (in church) radiate (not perfectly but as best we can) the hope — the joy – the presence of Jesus risen and alive – right here — right now.
Let us stand and re commit ourselves to Being Easter People everyday!
