Shared Suffering, Shared Comfort

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.  (2 Corinthians 1:3-5)

It is amazing to me that St. Paul can say these things in His letter to the congregation in Corinth or to any congregation for that matter.   It defies worldly logic and wisdom to find comfort in the midst of affliction. But this is not worldly wisdom that St. Paul uses but the revealed will of God.   Faith is speaking through Paul.  We as Christians see our sufferings and those of others as the sharing in Christ’s sufferings.   In his life, Jesus was afflicted.  He was threatened with death many times and ultimately He endured the physical trial of the passion and the cross.  Yet Christ knew that He would be delivered from death, even defeat it and the consequences of sin, not only for Himself but for all.  We have a share in the comfort Christ received.  “For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.”

St. Paul goes on in his letter to share the tribulation of the cross He and his fellow servants of the Word experienced in Asia.   “For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia.  For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.  Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.  But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.  He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us.” (2 Corinthians 1:8-10)

This week tribulation found me as I awoke early Sunday morning with shortness of breath.  I was unable to catch my breath, and after several hours of laboring I finally woke Nancy and had her take me to the emergency room where I was then admitted to the critical care unit.  It took about nine hours after dialysis before I began to experience relief.  The doctors found a couple small blood clots in my lungs that they believed traveled from  a larger clot in my left leg.   These will be managed with blood thinners.  They decided to install a filter in my vein in order to prevent further clots from entering my lungs.  For good measure, they also put me back on IV antibiotics.  It appears, though, that it was fluid build-up in my lungs that was the main culprit.  I was happy to be released from the hospital on Wednesday afternoon, in time to  attend an important meeting with the stem cell coordinator at UCLA on Friday. 

The Lord once again has delivered me from deadly peril.  Not just temporally, but through baptism as I have a share in Christ’s affliction and therefore have a share in the comfort of the resurrection.  And so do you! Therefore we can pray with Christ and the Psalmist.

"I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy.

Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live.

The snares of death encompassed me; the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me; I suffered distress and anguish. Then I called on the name of the Lord: 'O Lord, I pray, deliver my soul!'  

Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; our God is merciful.

The Lord preserves the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me.

Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.

For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling; I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living." (Ps 116:1-9)

White Washed Tombs

Once again, I am writing from this letter from the hospital. The up-and-down roller coaster ride of my condition continues. Saturday I went in for my regular dialysis.  After 1 ½  hours of dialysis my blood  pressure dropped to 75/53.  They stopped removing fluid and continued the dialysis filtering, but my top number could not get above the 80’s.  So they called 911, and I took my very first ambulance ride to the nearest ER.  It seems pretty easy these days for me to get admitted, not just to a room, but to the ICU. I am a fast tracker. I am getting very familiar with all the hook ups.  The IVs, the blood pressure cuffs, and the finger oxygen measurer.  I can attach my own telemetry now.  I actually know what color attaches to each terminal on my chest.  I have to remember that is not my vocation and I need to let the nurses do their jobs.   At night it’s like sleeping in a box of cables.

 

Many people have commented how good I look.  That is, relatively speaking.   What I mean is that I look healthier on the outside than most people who are in the ER.  I look healthier and act healthier than most people in the ICU.  But when you look at the numbers (the blood counts and tests such as the release of troponins that indicate possible cardiac muscle damage and low platelett counts) the inside view is very different.  I can’t help but think of Jesus speaking to the spiritually dead as “white washed tombs.”  Beautiful on the outside but dead or dying on the inside.  As the ER doctor said to me,  “You look good but you are one sick man.”  Well, doctors are brutally honest and I am glad they are.   I think pastors need to be as well.   We need to be reminded of the seriousness of our sin by the law in God’s word  in order to repent and cling to Christ.  This properly prepares us to hear the Gospel.  Christ forgives and gives to us His life.  The baptismal life is one of repentance and forgiveness, of dying  to sin and rising with Christ.   When the ER doctor found out I was a pastor by vocation, he confessed that he did not know how people without Christ could face what I am facing.  The truth is they have to, but it has no meaning or purpose and will more than likely cause them to be embittered toward God.  Before the ER doctor sent me to the ICU, he and two nurses prayed for my healing.  I also prayed for them and thanked our Lord for serving me through them, not only through prayer, but in the very competent execution of their vocations.   Thanks again for your continued prayers.

Valentines

This week we observed the commemoration martyr St. Valentine.  The commemoration of the death of this physician and priest, which occurred in 270 AD, became an early addition the calendar of the Western Church.  Tradition suggests that on the day of his execution for his Christian faith, Valentine left a note of encouragement for a child of  his jailer on a irregularly shaped piece of paper. This greeting became a pattern for millions of written expressions of love and caring that now are the highlight of Valentines day in many nations.  

This week I reflect on the many valentines I have received over the course of my treatment.  They have come in the form of letters of encouragement, cards filled with our Lord's promises from members of previous congregations who I have known, from Indiana, Ohio, Texas, Wisconsin, Kansas and from California.  They have also come in the form of emails and face book messages. And, they have come in irregular forms expressions of love and caring written on a giant card from the congregation of Fairlawn Lutheran, in Ohio and on a quilt from my beloved Trinity congregation some have come without words in the form of prayer shawls. From the children of Trinity School I have received many misshapen hand made, and hand written expressions of love and care with verses of scripture, God's promises attached. For this I give thanks to the Lord. I am the recipient of the love and care of our Lord through the communion of saints.  We all share in each other's burdens we rejoice together in Lord's promises. In Christ, we have have this common fellowship of love, caring and mercy. 

At this time, I am still waiting. I am finishing my third round of chemotherapy. The doctors say that it will be another three weeks before I start my next stage of treatment at UCLA.  We are taken precautions so that I remain relatively healthy. I am still struggling with maintaining my blood pressure. I am struggling with not knowing day to day how I will feel.  The three weeks seems like an eternity in some respects. So I still covet your expressions of love and caring reminding me of our Lord's promises as I wait for my deliverance from this disease.