On the Way to Wonder

Yesterday Sr. Wantabee was on a 24 hour call at the hospital. That means 8-5 going from room to room to hear stories of woe asking for prayer, coming home to collapse and watch Amelia, and then mindless knitting to the Oldies. Mingled among the visits in the ICU to comfort the grieving of age-mates whose parent just died or an age-mate whose wife was intubated, came visits with what felt like more than my fair share of visits with 89, 87, 91 ish little ole people who had been married for 60 plus years who were in the hospital with failing bodies while their spouse of the same age was on a different floor or in a different insititution dying. “We never thought it would end this way.” The humiliation of living in a body that doesn’t respond like it did even thirty years ago and now such basic things as eating, pooping, peeing are being inspected by an entourage of people coming through. “I have no dignity left,” said one little old lady as she raised her gown for the aid to check whether her various bags were emptied.
We all at some level cry, “I never thought it would end like this.” I did not plan to be fat. I did not plan to have arthritis. I did not plan for my child to struggle with migraines. I did not plan… or want… The list does not end.
The text for this Sunday was the raising of Lazarus. One sister, Martha, meets Jesus and says, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Do I detect a note of anger, frustration and pain. Jesus, you are my friend and I thought it wouldn’t end this way. The other sister, Mary, meets Jesus and cries, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Do her tears present the despair that she feels when faced with death. She too did not think it would end this way. We join Mary and Martha somewhere along the spectrum of their cries going from anger, frustration to despair with our cry, Lord, we didn’t think it would end this way.
We all rather envision a Notebook ending. Maybe we have Alzheimers but we will be beautiful and loved. Maybe our spouse will have Alzheimers but we will be handsome, charmin, reading the story of love and adventure. And we will die in each other’s arms, quietly, together, in the night, grieved by a crying audience at the beauty of our passing. Sigh. Now back to reality.
Jesus meets Martha’s anger, not with rejection because we know that “Jesus loved Martha” but with a challenge. “Do you believe that I am the resurrection?” Jesus meets Mary’s despair not with condemnation but with tears, “Jesus wept.” I never thought it would end this way, we cry. And Jesus responds, “I am the ressurection and the life. He who believes in me will never die”