2 Corinthians 5:1 (ESV)
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is
destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in
the heavens.
Betsy is slender, with snow-white hair, blue eyes, and a
pleasant smile. Every week Janet introduces herself, and every week Betsy
responds as if she's never seen her before. When other people interact in the
group or laugh at some little joke, Betsy smiles a distant, disarming smile.
Mostly she sits quietly, vacant-eyed, enjoying the change of scenery from her
room but comprehending nothing of the discussion going on around her.
After a few weeks, Janet learned that Betsy has retained
the ability to read. Often, she carries with her a postcard her daughter sent
her several months before, which she pores over as if it came in yesterday's
mail. She has no comprehension of what she is reading and will repeat the same
line over and over, like a stuck record, until someone prompts her to move on.
But on a good day she can read a passage straight through in a clear, strong
voice. Janet began calling on her each week to read a hymn.
One Friday the senior citizens, who prefer older hymns
they remember from childhood, selected "The Old Rugged Cross" for
Betsy to read. "On a hill far away stands an old rugged cross, the emblem
of suffering and shame," she began, and stopped. She suddenly got
agitated. "I can't go on! It's too sad! Too sad!" She said. Some of
the seniors gasped. Others stared at her, dumbfounded. In years of living at
the home, not once had Betsy shown the ability to put words together
meaningfully. Now, obviously, she did understand.
Janet calmed her: "That's fine, Betsy. You don't
have to keep reading if you don't want to."
After a pause, though, she started reading again, and
stopped at the same place. A tear made a trail down each check. "I can't
go on! It's too sad!" She said, unaware she had said the same thing two
minutes ago. She tried again, and again reacted with a sudden shock of
recognition, grief, and the exact same words.
Since the meeting had drawn to a close, the other seniors
moved away, heading for the cafeteria or their rooms. They moved quietly, as if
in church, glancing over their shoulders in awe at Betsy workers who had come
to rearrange the furniture stopped in their tracks and stared. No one had ever
seen Betsy in a state resembling lucidity.
Finally, when Betsy seemed tranquil, Janet led her to the
elevator to return her to her room. To her amazement Betsy began singing the
hymn from memory. The words came in breathy, chopped phrases, and she could
barely carry the tune, but anyone could recognize the hymn.
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross
The emblem of suff'ring and shame.
New tears fell, but this time Betsy kept going, still
from memory, gaining strength as she sang.
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.
So I'll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.
Somewhere in that tattered mind, damaged neurons had
tapped into a network of old connections to resurrect a pattern of meaning for
Betsy In her confusion, two things only stood out: suffering and shame. Those
two words summarize the human condition, the condition she lives in every day
of her sad life. Who knows more suffering and shame than Betsy? For her, the
hymn answered that question: Jesus does.
The hymn ends, and the Christian story ends, with the
promise that redemption will one day be complete, that God will vindicate
himself with a burst of re-creative power, that personal knowledge of God will
be as certain as the most intimate relationships we know on earth. "For
now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known."
We can live with the fact that the Lord has a new mind and
body for each of us someday.
Dear Lord, we thank You for the promise You gave us that
someday old things will pass away and all things will become new. In the Name
of Jesus, Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment