Empathetic Gracious Space

I just watched a short video entitled, Empathy, The Human Connection to Patient Care. The first scene is of an attendant pushing a graying gentleman with a worried look into the hospital lobby (Caption: Has been dreading this appointment. Fears he waited too long).  In an elevator an aging gentleman looks down and stares at the floor (Wife just had stroke.  Worried how he will take care of her.)  In an examination room a doctor in white lab coat gives an explanation to a lady looking up blankly from where she sits (Too shocked to comprehend treatment options).  Scene after scene unfolds with this conclusion, “If you could stand in someone else’s shoes…Hear what they hear.  See what they see.  Feel what they feel.  Would you treat them differently?”  (View video here)

  

The video makes me wonder how we might respond differently if we knew the stories of those who reach out to our church community.  I can imagine the captions of people as they walk through the doors, find a seat, and make awkward conversation: “Carrying the burden of a third divorce after another affair.”  “Suffering with lifelong depression.  Abused as a pre-teen.”  “In bondage to porn after discovering it as a child.”  “Hurting but detached.  Grew up in a controlling oppressive church.”  “Struggling with sexual identity. Father abandoned the family.”  “Self-inflicting pain in order to feel something.  Mother has a drug addiction.”

How do we respond?  Do we project aloof expectations and even condemnation that drive them away or do we provide gracious empathetic space for Christ to interact in their lives?   

In an out of the way place a despised woman of ethnicity shows up at the well carrying a water pot. (Caption: Has been divorced five times.  The man she is currently living with is not her husband).  Jesus is there alone resting.  He could ignore her or even dismiss her.  Instead He becomes indebted to her by asking a favor.  “Would you give me a drink of water?”  As it turns out she is thirsty too.  He offers sparkling, refreshing, redeeming water gushing fountains of endless life.

I have a mentor who when he encounters someone’s situation that makes him uncomfortable or offended prays, “God, help me to see this person not as repulsive, but as thirsty.”  It’s a prayerful perspective that reminds him of Jesus’ heart toward those who are oppressed.  It reminds us that they are looking for a safe relationship, for a home, for unconditional love and for hope.   

Still the Same

I suppose this particular Sabbath was much like any other as the young man stood to take the scroll.  After all, the Sabbath had been mandated and practiced over the centuries with an order of events filled with symbolism.  Friends and neighbors gathered to re-orient themselves to God and what He was doing.  It was a God-given day to set aside their work and to rest. 

The greetings this morning reflected the close community life they shared in the village…the joys and sorrows, the births and deaths, the hopes and disappointments.  As at every Sabbath they would read, sing, teach and pray.  In the back of their minds they held out steadfast hope for the coming of the Messiah. 

This day Jesus showed up, which wasn’t so unusual.  After all he had grown up in their hometown and had attended synagogue with his mother and father for years.  Today however would be different. 

Jesus took the scroll handed to Him.  Like all other biblical scrolls, it had been meticulously copied by strict rules in order to preserve its accuracy.  It was God’s Word to His people and was respectfully honored. 

He found the place he wanted in Isaiah and read.  א  רוּחַ אֲדֹנָי יְהוִה, עָלָי--יַעַן מָשַׁח יְהוָה אֹתִי לְבַשֵּׂר עֲנָוִים, שְׁלָחַנִי לַחֲבֹשׁ לְנִשְׁבְּרֵי-לֵב, לִקְרֹא לִשְׁבוּיִם דְּרוֹר, וְלַאֲסוּרִים פְּקַח-קוֹחַ. “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

The reading captured their attention.  All eyes were on Him as He rolled up the scroll, handed it back to the attendant and sat down to comment.  After a momentary lull the next words took them by surprise, “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”   

The implications were revolutionary.  He was the Messiah and had come to deal with the enormous problems afflicting humanity.  Whether in the physical sense or the spiritual sense He could rescue from poverty, sorrow, bondage, suffering and oppression.

In our day, for you and me, He is still the same.  Granted we live in at different time but eternal issues are still concerned with it.  In Christ we lay hold of things unseen…good news, freedom, recovery and favor.    

Why Try?

The church has confessed for centuries that in Christ all the fullness of deity dwelled in bodily form and that Christ was tempted in every way, just as we are – yet He did not sin.

The church itself is another story.  Protestant and atheist, believer and unbeliever, devoted and cynic attest to our shortcomings.  So we are left pondering the question, “If we are such a poor representation of Christ, why try?”   Phil Yancey gives us a thoughtful answer:

“The church fails in its mission and makes serious blunders precisely because the church comprises human beings who will always fall short of the glory of God.  That is the risk God took.  Anyone who enters the church expecting perfection does not understand the nature of that risk or the nature of humanity.  Just as every romantic eventually learns that marriage is the beginning, not the end of the struggle to make love work, every Christian must learn that church is also only a beginning. 

“I remember hearing an…illustration from Earl Palmer, a pastor who was defending the church against critics who dismissed it for its hypocrisy, its failures, its inability to measure up to the New Testament’s high standards.  Palmer, a Californian at the time, deliberately chose a community known for its cultural unsophistication. 

“‘When the Milpitas High School orchestra attempts Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, the result is appalling,’ said Palmer. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if the performance made old Ludwig roll over in his grave despite his deafness.  You might ask, ‘Why bother?’  Why inflict on those poor kids the terrible burden of trying to render what the immortal Beethoven had in mind?  Not even the great Chicago Symphony Orchestra can attain that perfection.

“‘My answer is this: The Milpitas High School orchestra will give some people in that audience their only encounter with Beethoven’s great Ninth Symphony.  Far from perfection, it is nevertheless the only way they will hear Beethoven’s message.

“I remind myself of Earl Palmer’s analogy whenever I start squirming in a church service.   Although we may never achieve what the composer had in mind, there is no other way for those sounds to be heard on earth.”

Into the Wind

We are in the grip of a harsh winter’s day.  The thermometer on the back porch registers low twenties with wind whipping through the trees and around corners.  I pull on layer after layer of clothing before stepping out the basement door and facing the bitter cold head on.  My steps sink into virgin snow, trying to reach the ground, stumbling from time to time.  The driving snow pelts my hood sounding like a hard spring rain on a tin roof.  I take out my binoculars and gaze down the meadow and over the rolling hills.  The grayness of a Homer Winslow painting wraps itself around every nook and cranny.  The whistling wind brings the sound of dogs barking in the distance.  I stand quietly soaking in the calmness before turning and heading back home. 

Often our most impressionable moments are made as we adventure into the unpredictable.  The senses come alive.  We gain new perspective.  Our lives and world views expand.  Our roots sink deeper into the Eternal God.  Mexico was this for us as.   The impact was lasting.

When it comes to the impact of an “into the wind” adventure, I think of Bilbo Baggins’ return to the Shire.  “Indeed Bilbo found he had lost more than spoons – he had lost his reputation…I am sorry to say he did not mind.  He was quite content; and the sound of the kettle on the hearth was ever after more musical than it had been even in the quiet days before the Unexpected Party…He took to writing poetry and visiting elves; and though many shook their heads and touched their foreheads and said ‘Poor old Baggins!’ and though few believed any of his tales, he remained very happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.”

Michaela is Maria's roommate at Torchbearers