Lenten Meditation 16 March
2012
“Not that enlightened people must be rejected, but it is true that wounded and rejected people
have a much greater chance of seeing clearly and having something to say (they
also have a greater chance of being bitter!).
But Jesus still sends his followers to that place, because wisdom emerges from what you do with your
pain! It is a unique and needed
perspective, as poets, artists and seers have always understood. In fact, I would find it hard to understand
all of the beatitudes in any other way (see Matthew 5:1-12).” (page
101)
Job on dungheap (from the Admont Giant-Bible, ca. 1140) |
Chapter five purports to be all about power—both good and
bad. Richard Rohr, however, enters into
a conversation concerning pain, a seemingly tangential focus. His discussion concerns how individuals and
communities ultimately deal with pain and suffering, whether it is from
physical causes, rejection, failure or any other source. Another way of understanding what the
quotation is pointing toward is that in pain, human beings are able to focus on
what is most important, making first things first, or as a friend of mine from
many decades ago used to say, “to stop majoring in the minors.”
Those who have never experienced pain in any form are
less likely to be able to understand it or even come close to one who is in
pain. Sickness, and the attendant pain,
can be an extremely uncomfortable situation for human beings. Too often I have heard parishioners say they
didn’t want to visit someone who is seriously ill, perhaps even terminally ill,
because they don’t know what to say. And
I must say that in that discomfort we sometimes babble and say the “wrong”
thing. I am certain that everyone
reading this meditation has some knowledge of the character Job. Some may not know the whole story, and if you
do not, I recommend a good reading of the Book of Job. After he has been inflicted with boils, a
condition which renders him a leper because of oozing sores, Job goes out of
the city to sit on the sewage pile (dung heap) and to reside there. He has three friends, Zophar, Elephaz, and
Bildad, who come from a great distance to visit him, having heard of the calamities
with which he has been afflicted (including losing ALL of his children, his
wealth and his health). From a distance
they see his misery and as they approach, they internalize his pain to such an
extent that they remain silent for seven days, simply sitting with Job. After seven days they produce more pain with
their words and arguments. Each asks in
long poetic discourses what Job has done, how Job has offended God, to bring
this suffering upon himself. To each Job
replies, “Nothing, I am innocent.” His
“friends” will have none of that and continue to batter Job with their
accusations. Job finally becomes so
angry that he does accuse God of not understanding, to which God replies,
“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the world?” (Job 38ff)
There is much to learn from Job’s friends. When I have been a part of the training of
Stephen Ministers—or others doing much the some sort of visitation ministry—I
have always cautioned against talking too much, rather listening and as we like
to say “empathizing” with the other. The
ministry of presence is heightened by our own ability to grasp another’s pain
by knowing how we have suffered in some form and at some depth. I have never been diagnosed—at least not to
date—with a terminal illness, but I know the pain of failure, rejection, and
illness. When I am able to access those
feelings and memories, I can grasp at least a bit of the other’s fear, loss,
and suffering and sit with them, perhaps weep with them, knowing that God is
present and suffering alongside them. My
goal is to be present. The operative word is be, not do.
I remember a person who was seeking ordination who was
asked at a conference where we explored with the aspirants their experience and
understanding of ministry (it was called BACAM, but I can never remember what
each of the letters of the acronym stood for).
This person was asked when he had failed at something. He pondered for a while and said he had never
failed at anything. Many of us knew that
he had failed to complete two areas of study, he had had a failed marriage, and
there were other areas that were problematic.
He was not recommended for postulancy, because the team felt he would never
be able to grasp the pain and suffering of others until he could come to grips
with the pain in his own life. He
reminded me of Job’s friends.
Pain and suffering, regardless of the cause—be it
illness, death of a loved one, our own impending death, accident, termination
from a job, financial woes, divorce—can, and I say can, help us to prioritize
our life in a healthy manner. As Rohr
says, it can also make us bitter. By
seeking priorities, we have the opportunity to focus on the true first things
and let some of the niggling “stuff” go.
I do not encourage anyone to go out and seek pain just to
be able to relate to others better; but I do encourage everyone to think back
to those time that have been painful.
Some have experienced bullying in childhood or youth, some have suffered
from illness that was debilitating, even if now recovered; some have lost loved
ones who were close. Whatever your life
experience, it is worth recalling those times to see in retrospect where God
was present in order to look for God’s presence in the present. Lent is a great time to reflect; let this be
a part of your reflection, not just so that you can rejoice in knowing God’s
presence more thoroughly, but in order to proclaim God’s presence to others now. How else are we going to “proclaim by word
and example the Good News of God in Christ?”
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