Humans spend a lot of time complaining. Myself included. Just ask my parents about the car rides home after a frustrating day in high school. Not all of this is bad. We all have problems. With the way things are ordered in this world, we all encounter issues from minor inconveniences to really deep hurt and pain. To vent and express our frustration, anger or sadness can be therapeutic, especially if it helps us not to dwell too deeply.
In the last few days, I’ve come down with a nasty case of pneumonia. It’s left me tired and achy and cough-y, during the first week of classes. Joy upon joy. Yesterday, I was sitting in a clinic for yet another doctor’s appointment, and while waiting I happened to overhear the conversation of the woman sitting across from me. She was explaining to the man sitting next to her about the chronic illness that keeps her in bed most of the time, telling a tale of medications that have stopped working, doctors who wouldn’t take her on, etc. Then another woman’s name was called and she got up, walking towards the doctor with a bowed head and a pronounced limp.
In that moment, I was transported to the stories of Jesus’ healing, especially the stories in Mark I studied at the beginning of this summer at MarkEast. The stories of people whose lives have been defined by being rejected and ostracized for their pain and crippling diseases. The stories of identities intertwined with disease. And finally, the hand extended or word spoken by God walking amongst us to restore health, and begin the process of restoring dignity and value.
Even with the wonders of modern medicine, we still have people living in our developed societies who are marginalized because of the state of their health, not to mention their economic status, race, religion… The list goes on.
See, the issue with complaining and venting is that so often it ends there. We spend an hour unloading on a friend and don’t ask them about the events of their day. Quite simply, we forget to listen and cultivate the skill of empathy. We cannot have experienced the exact pain or anger as all of our fellow humans, but drawing from our own experience, we can understand the emotional root of their distress. By remembering the ways that certain events have knocked our legs out from underneath us, we can reach out in humility and often silence, not with trite turns of phrase, to acknowledge the difficulty of life.
One of my favourite things about the way that Jesus heals in the gospels is that he rarely just addresses the physical illness. He addresses the deep soul decay that happens when your life is controlled by your pain or your loved one’s pain. He is in the business of restoring dignity to His children. In Grade 11, I travelled with some of my parents’ colleagues to meet a woman living with AIDS and some of the leaders of a organization that supported women and children with AIDS at a local level. Sitting in that smoky, chilly house out in the tea hills, I saw a woman with dignity, thanks to the drugs, resources and community support coming her way via a local church.
The more I hear stories of people like that or from people who work in the business of restoring dignity, the more I’m amazed at both the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of sometimes simple and sometimes great acts of love. And, the more I’m convinced of the value of listening, listening for the needs of your friends, your family, strangers even as expressed in their complaints.
These last few days, different members of my Wolfville family have jumped in to take care of me in different ways, picking up responsibilities I had to drop, feeding me, driving me, giving me a place to sleep and recover. Each reminding me of the love and value this community has given me, even while sick and unable to muster coherent thoughts or perform some basic tasks. They couldn’t make the pneumonia in my lungs disappear, but they could do everything within their power to make me more comfortable and speed my recovery.
See, just as we need to be channels of Jesus’ mission of restoring dignity, we also need to be on the receiving end every once in a while. If we spend too long only on the giving end, we can become tired, disillusioned and grouchy about serving. We need many, sometimes daily reminders, big and small, of the transformation Jesus has worked in us through His Spirit and his followers, to keep us grateful, empathetic and dignified.
Now, for those of you wrapped up in semantics, when I say dignity, I do not of course mean social dignity or decorum. For those of you have witnessed me at a dance party, I think it’s safe to say propriety is not high on my list of priorities. What I do mean is your value, your sense of confidence and purpose. Please continue to laugh loudly and dance badly.
If you want to see a great example of human dignity, resilience and the importance of projects that tell the stories of all, take the time to read and laugh/weep along with the stories of Humans of New York, especially those from his recent international tour with the UN in conflict torn regions. I never cease to be moved and humbled by this revolutionary project.
Friends, thank you for reading. Blessings on your day and on your head (and your shoulders, knees and toes, just for good measure). What, you thought you get out of this blog post without one of my cheesy jokes? HAH. Thank you for the dignity you have brought to my life and the dignity you bring to those around you. Keep fighting the good fight.
Side note: I’m going to resist quoting a certain Taylor Swift song right now, especially after my reference to bad dancing. But now, it’s probably stuck in your head and I win.
“And then you will see that I love you; you’ll rest with me all our nights; You say I know a place where your heart can be safe; and you’ve said your last goodbye”
