Over my time at the hospital, I met a few people in spiritual crisis right outside the chapel. People seemed to halt at the door, as if they were pondering whether they were allowed in. Were they afraid that God would not welcome them in, or if the people around them would be annoyed by their crying?
I walked up to Martin* as he was standing near the door of the chapel. This was the second day in a row (that week) that I ran into someone near the chapel door. Martin’s body language suggested indecision as to whether he should enter the chapel or not, which alerts to me spiritual indecision/crisis. People in prayer I tend to leave to prayer; people looking indecisive about whether they should be in a holy space tend to push me to make an introduction.
It was clear that I needed to introduce myself.
"Hi, my name is Robert, I'm a chaplain."
"Hello, chaplain Robert, My name is Martin and I just need you to listen. Is there a place we can talk?
We found a place. Martin was suffering from clinical depression.
Martin was “depressed, suicidal, and not afraid to die.” The reason he came to the hospital was because he had another medical condition that was very painful. As he said, he was “not afraid to die, but afraid of how he would die.”
He told me of his anger at God because of the death of his sister.
He told me that he had a significant amount of theological training, none of which mitigated his anger at God.
He later had surgery and was admitted to the psychiatric ward.
He knew the CPE curriculum;
He knew my training, and so he knew some of the boundaries of what I may or may not comment on. There was little pressure for me to perform theologically since his training surpassed mine, and on one occasion he did say that he “didn’t want pat theological answers.”
I laughed and immediately replied, “Good, because I’m not going to give you any.”
Martin knew that I was trained to listen, and so I was able to set myself to that task completely.
But that changed about three weeks later. I went to visit him on his last day in the ward; he was going to be discharged in an hour after three weeks in the psychiatric ward.
"You know, I’m still angry with God," Martin said.
"Yeah, I figured that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon," I replied, "but it still seems like you are on speaking terms with him."
"Yeah." He fell silent for a few seconds. "I wonder if I would get struck by lightning if I were to walk into the chapel…"
A minute passes.
"Robert, I want you to do something for me..." another pause. "If you were God, and you saw me walk in the chapel, what would you say?"
I chuckled, "Martin, you took CPE! You know that’s a trap of a question!"
"Yes, but please humor me."
The air suddenly weighed twice as much. There were so many ways an answer could go wrong. Everything in me told me not to answer that question.
But for a little twinge. I realized that it was not that the air changed weight, but a thin space opened; an inbreaking of the Holy had settled. We had God's full attention.
Come, Holy Spirit, I prayed, and gave myself a few seconds.
In the steadiest voice I could muster, the most locked gaze I could conjure, I said, "If I were God, and if I saw you walk into the chapel, I would say, “That’s Martin. He has a chemical imbalance in his brain that is hard to control, and he is angry at me. I love him anyway."
In the steadiest voice I could muster, the most locked gaze I could conjure, I said, "If I were God, and if I saw you walk into the chapel, I would say, “That’s Martin. He has a chemical imbalance in his brain that is hard to control, and he is angry at me. I love him anyway."
Martin looked down for about a minute. I was on eggshells, and trying not to show it. When he looked up, tears were in his eyes and his voice trembled.
"Thank you, Robert. You could have given me some sentimental crap or unloaded thirteen theologians on me. But you kept in mind that I have a clinical condition. It’s something that few ministers may remember."
_______
When do we have permission to speak for God?
When do we have permission to speak from God?
We are all so (rightfully) careful about speaking in God's name. We've seen that people can abuse this responsibility (I'm thinking of Pat Robertson, among others).
But if there are three things, and only three things about God of which we can be certain, it is these:
God loves us.
God loves you....yes, you.
God is love.**
This is not something to hide.
To be whispered sheepishly.
To be forgotten conveniently.
To be hidden ashamedly.
This is something to be lavished on the world.
To be shouted jubilantly.
To be repeated resolutely.
To be shared widely.
People forget.
remind them.
People disbelieve in guilt.
Set them free.
People are scorned.
Help in healing.
People may laugh.
Persist in love.
People may deride.
Persist in love.
People may mock.
Persist in love.
If we Christians would be known for our love,
we should not be afraid to say that God is a God of love,
and we should not forget that God can be known by our attempts to show this same love to others.
Amen.
_______
*Martin is not his real name.
**1Jn4:8, Jn3:16ff, etc.
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