Wonderings--August 22

As you might recognize, I have been spending some time considering how we care for one another both as the church corporately and individuals personally. I have talked about the impulse to care in Sunday school and I wondered about when that impulse is felt, how we choose to respond. Do we act quickly? Decisively? Biblically? 

Where is God in our desire to care and how quickly does the Holy Spirit speak to our hearts before we choose to act and care for someone? 

Part of the care that I have been reflecting upon, and perhaps a large portion of it, involves a ministry of presence and a ministry of touch--a ministry of holding hands. Marcia A. Owens and Samuel Wells in the book, Living without Enemies: Being Present in the Midst of Violence, offer us these words to help shape this dynamic: 

"All words of ministry in the wake of [pain and violence] emerge from a relationship based on being present in silence and overcoming fear through touch." (Emphasis in original text).

Silence and touch. When I have been with someone who is in pain, and regardless of how that pain is named or felt, silence and touch are often the best way to care for that person. Being still and holding the hand of a friend can be just as profound of an experience as praying with them.  

In the rest of the chapter Owens and Wells speak about a process of caring for one another that is less service-based and more present, more still, more dwelling with. Part of the presence they are speaking about is a willingness to abide with the other person. AS we abide we grant that person space for the acknowledgment and solidarity that they need. Here is an example that they provide for the reader: 

"I am allowing this pain, I'm not pushing it away. It is mine; this is as it is. This is. And I'm not going to move away from it. I'm going to allow it to hurt. I'm going to feel my hurt."

In the church we love to care for one another. We appreciate finding ways to dwell with the other person and take pride in how we hear the Holy Spirit speak to us and call us onward. It is a blessing certainly that I feel is active at Bethesda. This is part of who we are and who we long to be in Christ Jesus.

But notice what happens when we still our voices, hold the hand of a loved one or friend, and help them to affirm in their own way, "I hurt." It is powerful and it can be transformational. 

I wonder if there is someone in your day who you could be present for in this way? I wonder how their relationship with God could be nurtured if you took Wells and Owens' advice in how to care for them? 

Blessings