Perfect in infirmity

Perfect in infirmity

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord. He is like a tree planted beside the waters that stretches out its roots to the stream: it fears not the heat when it comes.

– From Jeremiah 17 (and Psalm 1)

My nurse friend says her kids get disgusted at the dinner table when she talks too clearly about things bloody and bruised. I don’t much like it when medical abbreviations take up too much of the conversation. But I’m getting older! What am I to do? My body is wearing out. There are things to talk about, right?

My legs love to be stretched, and my arms, and my back, my muscles pulled tight just enough so they feel loved. They sigh, they moan, they stretch out toward the stream. And my mind, can I stretch it too? How do I learn to think and speak of the gift of diminishment?

James Martin, serious Jesuit priest, former editor of America magazine, wrote a book about laughter: Between Heaven and Mirth. I’m more of a wry-smile guy, but James is a laugh-out-loud guy. In his book he tells lots of jokes on his church and on himself. What I’m discovering is that as I get older, I had better get better at laughing out loud, at myself at least.

In a more serious moment Martin shared part of Cardinal Avery Dulles’ last speech, read by a friend because Avery’s body had grown so weak he couldn’t talk. I thought of Urbana native Roger Ebert in the years before his death, face disfigured by surgery and vocal cords severed, using a clever talking machine during his Overlooked Film Festival. Famous directors and actors still flew across the world to Champaign just to talk with him on stage. His words were wiser than ever. You couldn’t see his smile, but you could feel it.

Father Dulles wrote, “Suffering and diminishment are not the greatest of evils, but are normal ingredients in life, especially in old age. They are to be expected as elements of a full human existence.”

I am surprised and excited by the words he chooses. Normal … Expected … Full! These are sweet sounds, honey in the honeycomb. And this way of seeing things lines up with what Reinhold Neibuhr reminds us in his Serenity Prayer, that we can strive to be “reasonably happy in this life.” We must wait to be “supremely happy in the next.”

I’ve had some good doctors. One of my favorites is from Vietnam. We shared our spirituality, and he shared his secrets, sometimes showing what others might call weakness. For example, he wanted to keep eating salt, so he took blood pressure medicine.

My doctor laughed with me. But he was serious when he said he was treating me now for how I would live in the future. Twenty-five years later, I am so grateful for that.

When my friends in Florida have dinner together and talk too long about their ailments, they get up and walk the dog. Sometimes Margaret and I look each other in the eyes and laugh. There is nothing funnier than getting too serious about the wrong thing.

Because as Father Dulles continued, “I know well that his power can be made perfect in infirmity. ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord.’” It will never get any better than that.

If your eyes crinkle at the edges when I look forlorn, Lord, don’t forget to teach ME the art of laughter, too. I am as good as anyone at feeling sorry for myself. Thank you for the cool cloth and the warm hand, thank you for the comforting word, and thank you for reminding me of joy. O how I love your smile.

http://www.davesandel.net/category/lent-easter-devotions-2018/

http://www.christiancounselingservice.com/archived_devotions.php?article_id=1669