The Christ Who Suffers With Us
David Martin, Director of Spiritual Care – Fort Worth
Room One: An act of violence scars the psyche. The patient had witnessed such an event. A bloody act of terrorism wrenched his soul. Though he survived, the spiritual wound cut deeply. On top of this trauma was the failing health of a beloved family member. The lips trembled. Even so, the story spilled forth in the emergency room.
Room Two: Yet another patient opened his heart recently, telling of the death of his son. The police said it was suicide. The dad said it was foul play. We talked, then prayed for the justice of God to redeem the violence of our world. Thy kingdom come, indeed.
There is little one can say in the face of such sorrow, but sitting face to face, and sharing our grief, lifts the spirit somehow. In room two, we wondered aloud about the Man of Sorrows and his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me: yet not my will, but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42). The patient’s language was salty and the disappointment with God evident. For thirty-seven years pain had wracked his body, and I wondered if he would agree to prayer. I asked anyway. He said yes.
Even when angry or disappointed with God, like this patient, we reach upward. It’s as if we say, “Not my will, but thine be done.”
But we don’t have to pray alone in a garden of Gethsemane. We can awaken. We can show up. We can enter the darkness of the hospital room.
And we can pray, saying, “God, our very present help in a time of trouble…” reveal to us a new day. Show us the empty tomb. Heal our tired bodies and resurrect our wearied spirits. In Jesus name. Amen.