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I was with my husband at the Veterans Hospital; he was there for a checkup. I went with him. We entered the facility, and he and I took a seat waiting for the electronic board to call his number for the labs that were ordered by the doctor. It was in the waiting room that I observed others for their number to appear on the white electronic board. A Vet sitting across from us had an athletic shoe on one foot, and on his other was a black medical shoe with bandaged toes, or I should say a toeless foot. He came in a wheelchair under his own power. He stared at the whiteboard waiting for his number. Another Vet, also in a wheelchair, had a huge upper thigh and a lower leg made of a metal pipe. He also was waiting on the number on the whiteboard. Various people came in and out, but one vet, looking perfectly normal, stood up and started directing traffic, getting people to get their numbers and showing them how to check the board so they would know when they were called to the lab. He was kind and helpful to the many elderly and various physical problems that surrounded me. I asked him what branch of the service he had served in, and he replied," Marines", with a big smile and great pride. I was not surprised.
What struck me in this waiting room of medical attention was that the men themselves seemed to lack any joy or ability to communicate with others. I realize I was in a hybrid situation, but if it were not for the Marine directing people with such leadership and kindness, there really would have been nothing to bring out the human spirit of these people waiting. His kindness and recognition of the need to help these elderly veterans was a spark of community compassion. The place was lit with talk and banter, a spirit that celebrates our humanity. It was a joy to witness.
This is what Christianity does; it need not be a prayer service or a gathering of fellow church members; it is seeing the human beings that we are and desiring to share and care for those we meet in our daily lives. I have no idea what the Marine’s religious background was, but his ability to help and cheer those around him was like Jesus Himself. His compassion and concern for others spoke loudly in that simple waiting room. We just need to see others and their problems, and this connects on a primary level, and life starts to flow, bringing a smile to the faces of those involved. I have been in waiting rooms of one kind or another, and no one talks to you. Everyone is looking at the face of their phone. There used to be reading material in waiting rooms, but everyone is on their phone, locked into their own lives, tribe, or cult. No one sees the others in a waiting room anymore, or waiting for a plane, or sitting on a bus.
When I was in college, I often went home for weekends. I was about four hours from my parents so I rode a Greyhound bus. Let me tell you, it was one of the most interesting things I did in my young life. I met all kinds of people sitting next to me, black, white, young, old. Some had drank too much; others were knitting; others were reading Plato; some were eating exotic food they were willing to share. It was never the same twice -- each ride let me meet a memorable person, which I would never encounter again. But each situation and ride provided a new chapter of human nature. Yes, I got my degree, but in four years of riding the bus, I got a PhD in humanity. I would have missed that if it had been the era of cell phones. Sometimes I think that the cell phone has taken community away. No one talks to you, or they are afraid to converse with another person. We are neglecting our common need for socialization. When I walked into a room of a dying soul as a Chaplain, I took the person for what they were at that moment. Denomination was not important, or a nonbeliever. I wanted to witness to God's love for them. Sometimes that was in prayer; sometimes it was recognizing what they wanted to talk about; sometimes it was just holding the person’s hand. Often silence and a deep look at the person spoke enough. We all need to be seen, to know we are not alone, especially in those hours before we pass.
God is love and peace, and when I meet someone who has that calm and certainty, there is joy. I know God is present. When I thought of the Marine the other day, he was helpful and joyful, and he lit up the room. Bless him; he was practicing a Christian principle, and I was present to see it. Put the phones down and talk to a fellow human being; we need each other, and God is present in our greeting and meeting..
"For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them." (Matthew 18:20)