In church yesterday I told the congregation
about a request I had the week before. A woman, well known and respected in
Peterborough’s anti-poverty circles, asked me if I thought George Street Church
might allow a school portable to be put on the property. It would house a
friend of hers. A man who is homeless and unable to stay at the local shelter.
I asked the congregation how many thought
this would be a good idea and I was surprised by the number of hands that went
up. I had to confess that I hadn’t even taken the request to the Church Council
(like I told her I would) because I was sure that the practicalities of
insurance, by-laws, and fire-safety would have prevented the Council’s
favourable acceptance of the proposal.
I saw her the
day after the Council meeting and she asked me what they’d said? Having to
confess my inaction wasn’t easy. Seeing her response was even tougher. She
explained that her friend was suffering from cancer and in a lot of pain.
Because he had no I.D., he had no OHIP and so couldn’t get pain medication.
I looked into
her eyes and saw, just for an instant, the pain of that man’s suffering. She
was carrying his suffering and in that instant, I shared in it too. Awe-full.
The pain of being a helpless witness to another’s pain is heartbreaking. Tears
welled up as I told the story.
The ones who’d
put their hands up were willing Good Samaritans.
The others
were more practical like their Priest – wanting to help but quickly calculating
the cost and passing by with thoughts like…
…house one and
how many others will line up to find shelter behind him?
…having said
“yes” to one, how could we turn others away?
…this is a
social problem – not an individual problem – and we need the government to
create a social solution…more affordable housing with more support workers.
…we can’t
carry around other people’s pain with us. It doesn’t help them and it only
weakens us.
Some might say
that sharing in another’s pain has a redemptive quality. That Jesus entered
into a world of pain and by doing so offered a redeeming, saving grace to the
human, universal experience of suffering.
I’m more
likely to agree with Simone
Weil who, herself a lifelong sufferer of debilitating migraine headaches,
saw no redemption in suffering. What she did see – in the midst of a brutal
assault on her senses – was a vision of Jesus in the midst of that pain.
Born into a
secular Jewish family and an intellectually devoted communist, Weil experienced
Christ in the midst of suffering. It became the cornerstone of her mystic
philosophy and political theory. Her short life echoes still as a song for the
hope of peace in this world.
The Bhudda says
“all life is suffering”. Pema
Chodron encourages us to walk towards that which we fear most. Jesus tells
his followers that they will experience his presence as they reach out to the
hurting, hungry, and imprisoned.
My choice to
follow Jesus nearly thirty years ago began by walking alongside people who were
homeless.
My decision to
enter the professional Ministry was shaped by a passion to create community
where people – all kinds of people – might find a place to share both suffering
and celebrations, both hardships and the joys of working together thru the
challenges.
I’m still on
that path. I’ve burned out so many times along the way that I’m beginning to
see. I’m beginning to see that no matter how hard I work, how loud I speak, how
furiously I scheme – I cannot bring about the Jubilee Vision of
wealth redistribution.
Not even with
all the cooperation of all the ministers in Peterborough will this happen. Not
even with all the Good Samaritans in the pews will this change occur.
No amount of
guilt leverage. No amount of good Christian charity. No amount of protest or
public outcry. (although all these efforts are somewhat effective)
It is only a
spiritual awakening to the dual forces converging upon us that will bring about
the miracle of wealth redistribution.
The first is
our collective awakening – a steadily growing awareness - that as the forces of
greed pull this planet into pieces and re-order them into the false hope of
consumer-driven mono-culture – our survival depends on our ancient capacities
to organize ourselves locally, organically, cooperatively to find unity in the
midst of diversity.
The other
Spiritual awakening is that in spite of the fear-mongering rhetoric of
belt-tightening politicians, there is more than enough to go around. Always has
been.
Jeremiah knew
the power of a good metaphor. Jesus knew the power of a good story. Hosea knew
the power of symbolic action. Our actions and our stories have the power to put
into people’s imaginations an awakening to a new metaphor. More powerful and more
impossibly hopeful than a virgin birth. More potent than God being killed by
religion and resurrecting in the broken hearts of people no longer afraid and
thus freed to radically share.
How can a
Church be that metaphor?
What is the
story a Church tells to a suffering soul?
When will our
actions match our prayers?
2 comments:
I am very moved by this eloquent and heartfelt cry. The vision that inspires it is of true community such as Jesus created. WE can do it! We can do it when we come together in trust with a thirst for justice. It's happening now in many places, most recently with Idle No More.
This is an eloquent and heartfelt cry for community. We can do it!
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