Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Staging the World by TV
Television is our culture’s principal mode of knowing about itself. Therefore—and this is the critical point—how television stages the world becomes the model for how the world is properly to be staged—Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death (1985).
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Groothuis on Chronic Illness and Redemptive Suffering
On Wedenessay, May 27, I will be speaking in a class at Denver Seminary called Redemptive Suffering. I will address chronic illness and redemptive suffering. This is not a one-off public lecture, but part of a for-credit course, so the public is not invited. However, if you would like my lecture outline (which is substantial), please let me know. This will be the first time I have given a lecture dedicated to this issue.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
My Little Friend
Recently, I met a little boy named Aidan Perkins. Aidan is the three-year old son of one of my students at Metro State College of Denver. He is smart, fun, and very active. He likes to throw things, and proceeded to do that with the small stuffed animal I gave him when he and his mother visited my office at Denver Seminary a few weeks ago. He later drew a crayon picture for me and other for my mother (who gave him some frog stickers). I think he has impressionist leanings.
Aiden began his life with a chronic illness, a rare condition known as Happle Syndrome, which is a form of dwarfism with many complications. He is the only known male to survive past birth with this deformity. Aiden is three, but is about as tall as one-year old. I hope to see him again soon and pray for him and his parents.
His parents love him deeply, but have a heavy load of doctor visits, difficult decisions, and they must deal with social situations in which inept people single Aidan out of the crowd in rude ways. His brave mother, Amanda, refused the doctor's evil advice to abort him when his uniqueness was revealed during the pregnancy. I hope you will look at his other pictures and read his story.
There is a special place in God's heart for children, as Jesus showed us. Moreover, God exhorts us to care for and bless "the least of these," of which Aidan is one (Matthew 25:31-46). As we treat them, so also we treat Jesus. Please pray for Aidan and his family. May we all welcome and love little ones like him.
Aiden began his life with a chronic illness, a rare condition known as Happle Syndrome, which is a form of dwarfism with many complications. He is the only known male to survive past birth with this deformity. Aiden is three, but is about as tall as one-year old. I hope to see him again soon and pray for him and his parents.
His parents love him deeply, but have a heavy load of doctor visits, difficult decisions, and they must deal with social situations in which inept people single Aidan out of the crowd in rude ways. His brave mother, Amanda, refused the doctor's evil advice to abort him when his uniqueness was revealed during the pregnancy. I hope you will look at his other pictures and read his story.
There is a special place in God's heart for children, as Jesus showed us. Moreover, God exhorts us to care for and bless "the least of these," of which Aidan is one (Matthew 25:31-46). As we treat them, so also we treat Jesus. Please pray for Aidan and his family. May we all welcome and love little ones like him.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Ethics Panel
At the request of an MD and Ph.D. at Porter's Adventist Hospital, today I visited an Ethics Panel meeting to see if I would be interested in serving on it. This would give me some inside exposure to the moral world of hospitals from the side of the doctors, chaplains, and nurses. I am interested in them, but they need to decide upon me in light of some other community folks outside of the hospital. We did an exercise with the famous "life boat" case. I don't think crisis ethics is the best path to moral wisdom, but it was fascinating to see how people considered the value of various human lives.
It goes like this: There are ten spaces on a life boat, but fifteen people who want to get on. You are given a short description, then asked to decide who should be allowed on. I voiced concern with the method of moral reflection, but said that volunteers should be solicited who would give their seat up; then children should be picked; after that a lottery should be drawn. I had never done the exercise in a group before.
I may not be asked to be on this panel, but I hope that I am. (I may have been too vocal at the first meeting.) God willing, I could contribute some analytical insights to the moral questions that they address and rub shoulders with some concrete moral issues on site. Let me know what you think of this.
It goes like this: There are ten spaces on a life boat, but fifteen people who want to get on. You are given a short description, then asked to decide who should be allowed on. I voiced concern with the method of moral reflection, but said that volunteers should be solicited who would give their seat up; then children should be picked; after that a lottery should be drawn. I had never done the exercise in a group before.
I may not be asked to be on this panel, but I hope that I am. (I may have been too vocal at the first meeting.) God willing, I could contribute some analytical insights to the moral questions that they address and rub shoulders with some concrete moral issues on site. Let me know what you think of this.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Spiritual Loneliness
Ever since Eden, mortals have suffered from alienations: from themselves and from others. This estrangement from the good, from benevolent relationships, traces back to our first parent's rebellion against God. Instead of resting in perfect love, they sought out more than enough. The result was banishment from the garden and the immiseration of women and men, boys and girls down through the millennia.
We are, thus, lonely--among other ills. What is the ontology of loneliness, it being and essence? Perhaps loneliness is the mode of being inadequately alone, of being apart when we should be together, of incompleteness aware of its state. We are separated from needful company and harmony. We are poor in ourselves and can find no one outside of ourselves take away our misery.
The chronically ill and their partners often suffer from an acute and aching kind of loneliness. It is both physical and spiritual in nature. Physically, those weighed down and laid out by one or more chronic maladies simply cannot have much fellowship outside of medical and physical necessities. You may visit a doctor (or three) this week, but you will not attend a play, see a film, or have a leisurely dinner with your husband. There is no time, no energy, and too much pain--or too high a cost to any outing. You may make it through, but you will pay for it for days or weeks. When I first met Sherri Connell (of The Invisible Disabilities Advocate ministry) it was outside and in the sun in downtown Denver. We talked for only about twenty minutes. She was pleasant and not bitter, but she said, "I'll pay for this for weeks." Sadly, I knew what she meant.
The partners of the chronically ill face their own separations. They are alienated from normal life, from vacations, from expected forms of life. They stay home when home is not where one may want to stay. They feel guilty leaving home alone, their loved one left behind. Yet they must do so from time to time. But even then, they are alone, for their loved one is not by their side. And even if he or she was there, this could bring its own frustrations: fatigue, sensitivities, arguments, curtailed expectations...
Lonely, lonely, lonely
Loneliness is such a drag!
So said a celebrity in his mid-twenties in the midst of a meteoric rise to fame in which he redefined rock music and the vistas of guitar playing. A man who was nearly worshipped by the masses, who had as many women as he wanted, who was the envy of guitarists worldwide, wrote that lyric. Jimi Hendrix, who would die from a drug and alcohol overdose not long after (1970) also said, "Everyone thinks I'm free; but I'm just running."
Running from loneliness often generates more of the same, just experienced at a faster pace. The wind may be in your face, but the ache remains in your heart. But I am not concerned about celebrities in this post, but those wounded by chronic illness. How can loneliness be met with grace and courage for us?
I really do not know. Some benefit from support groups of those facing similar problems. Others hate that. Why be around people with just my kind of problem? How depressing! Moreover, they do not find much within to offer others. Yes, thank God for friends who will offer sympathy and even empathy--listening to your woes although they have not experienced them and praying for you in ways that others cannot because they have never listened.
I do take heart that God himself understands. Jesus was utterly alone on his Cross, forsaken by both God and man. "My God, my God. Why have you forsaken me?" He was more alone, more afflicted than anyone else ever has been or will be. This Jesus endured this for us. He knows from the absolute inside what loneliness is--utter separation of all that is good and life-giving. He died that way.
Yet Christ every lives for those who caste themselves on his matchless mercy. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." We must bank on that promise, no matter how lonely we may be or stay. The one forsaken and alone is now with us--now and forever.
We are, thus, lonely--among other ills. What is the ontology of loneliness, it being and essence? Perhaps loneliness is the mode of being inadequately alone, of being apart when we should be together, of incompleteness aware of its state. We are separated from needful company and harmony. We are poor in ourselves and can find no one outside of ourselves take away our misery.
The chronically ill and their partners often suffer from an acute and aching kind of loneliness. It is both physical and spiritual in nature. Physically, those weighed down and laid out by one or more chronic maladies simply cannot have much fellowship outside of medical and physical necessities. You may visit a doctor (or three) this week, but you will not attend a play, see a film, or have a leisurely dinner with your husband. There is no time, no energy, and too much pain--or too high a cost to any outing. You may make it through, but you will pay for it for days or weeks. When I first met Sherri Connell (of The Invisible Disabilities Advocate ministry) it was outside and in the sun in downtown Denver. We talked for only about twenty minutes. She was pleasant and not bitter, but she said, "I'll pay for this for weeks." Sadly, I knew what she meant.
The partners of the chronically ill face their own separations. They are alienated from normal life, from vacations, from expected forms of life. They stay home when home is not where one may want to stay. They feel guilty leaving home alone, their loved one left behind. Yet they must do so from time to time. But even then, they are alone, for their loved one is not by their side. And even if he or she was there, this could bring its own frustrations: fatigue, sensitivities, arguments, curtailed expectations...
Lonely, lonely, lonely
Loneliness is such a drag!
So said a celebrity in his mid-twenties in the midst of a meteoric rise to fame in which he redefined rock music and the vistas of guitar playing. A man who was nearly worshipped by the masses, who had as many women as he wanted, who was the envy of guitarists worldwide, wrote that lyric. Jimi Hendrix, who would die from a drug and alcohol overdose not long after (1970) also said, "Everyone thinks I'm free; but I'm just running."
Running from loneliness often generates more of the same, just experienced at a faster pace. The wind may be in your face, but the ache remains in your heart. But I am not concerned about celebrities in this post, but those wounded by chronic illness. How can loneliness be met with grace and courage for us?
I really do not know. Some benefit from support groups of those facing similar problems. Others hate that. Why be around people with just my kind of problem? How depressing! Moreover, they do not find much within to offer others. Yes, thank God for friends who will offer sympathy and even empathy--listening to your woes although they have not experienced them and praying for you in ways that others cannot because they have never listened.
I do take heart that God himself understands. Jesus was utterly alone on his Cross, forsaken by both God and man. "My God, my God. Why have you forsaken me?" He was more alone, more afflicted than anyone else ever has been or will be. This Jesus endured this for us. He knows from the absolute inside what loneliness is--utter separation of all that is good and life-giving. He died that way.
Yet Christ every lives for those who caste themselves on his matchless mercy. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." We must bank on that promise, no matter how lonely we may be or stay. The one forsaken and alone is now with us--now and forever.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Ministry to the Chronically Ill
As was made obvious to me yet again from a short telephone conversation yesterday, the chronically ill are often chronically misunderstood and chronically lonely. Why is this and what can be done about it?
First, many do not understand the unique ravages of diseases that neither kill nor heal (apart from God's intervention). I speak of chronic fatigue, irritable bowel syndrome, lupus (although complications from this can be fatal), chemical and environmental sensitivities, and (sadly) more. Those who so suffer may not always look ill; they are not disfigured or depending on wheel chairs, necessarily. Thus, they often fail to solicit sympathy, given that people judge by mere appearance and do not attend to the words of those sore afflicted. This lack of sympathy can translate into outright cruelty when people infer that the chronically ill are not really that bad off, that they should just "buck up" or that "it is all in your head."
There is a simple solution to this problem, but it requires a sacrifice: Listen to the wounded, really hear what they are saying and why. Do not prejudge their words because they do not resonate with your experience. The world is more wounded than you life may know, so, for God's sake, listen. The walking wounded are among "the least of these" who Jesus tells us to care for as both a duty and privilege. If you do not understand the condition or situation, keep listening and ask real questions.
Second, even if some understanding is reached, many shrink back from helping in any concrete way. "I'll pray for you," we may say, but do we do so in any consistent way (see Luke 18:1-8)? The chronically ill do not have short term illnesses. Those are easier to minister unto: you simply bring over meals, do housework, take people to the doctors, and so on--knowing that the duration is limited: the broken leg or arm will heal, the operation will be recovered from. Chronic illness has no limited duration. Nor is it a death sentence, but a life sentence (should God not intervene). In a way, terminal illness is easier to cope with: there is a finish line. Chronic illness, is, well, chronic--interminable and often unbearable. Ministering to these folks requires patience and kindness. It requires the creative love described in 1 Corinthians 13. It requires an infusion of grace from the Holy Spirit to reach out to those who may not be able to "pay back" your efforts, those who are not cheerful after years of pain and crushed dreams, those who are weary and skeptical of real help after so many have faded out so quickly.
There are no easy answers on how to help the chronically ill, even if you have fathomed something of their fate. But one can put oneself in their shoes, in their compromised bodies through sympathetic imagination. Then one may contribute acts of kindness, no matter how small, to help alleviate the loneliness and frustrations. It may simply be a phone call or an email to provide fellowship and alleviate loneliness. Most importantly, ask the ill person what she or he needs. It may be other than you think. They probably know better than you do, so please consult them! And if you tell them you will pray for them, do so earnestly and seriously (1 Thes. 5:17). Otherwise, your words are empty.
The chronically ill in our midst want and need to heard and helped. Ask God to make you a listening ear and a helping hand.
First, many do not understand the unique ravages of diseases that neither kill nor heal (apart from God's intervention). I speak of chronic fatigue, irritable bowel syndrome, lupus (although complications from this can be fatal), chemical and environmental sensitivities, and (sadly) more. Those who so suffer may not always look ill; they are not disfigured or depending on wheel chairs, necessarily. Thus, they often fail to solicit sympathy, given that people judge by mere appearance and do not attend to the words of those sore afflicted. This lack of sympathy can translate into outright cruelty when people infer that the chronically ill are not really that bad off, that they should just "buck up" or that "it is all in your head."
There is a simple solution to this problem, but it requires a sacrifice: Listen to the wounded, really hear what they are saying and why. Do not prejudge their words because they do not resonate with your experience. The world is more wounded than you life may know, so, for God's sake, listen. The walking wounded are among "the least of these" who Jesus tells us to care for as both a duty and privilege. If you do not understand the condition or situation, keep listening and ask real questions.
Second, even if some understanding is reached, many shrink back from helping in any concrete way. "I'll pray for you," we may say, but do we do so in any consistent way (see Luke 18:1-8)? The chronically ill do not have short term illnesses. Those are easier to minister unto: you simply bring over meals, do housework, take people to the doctors, and so on--knowing that the duration is limited: the broken leg or arm will heal, the operation will be recovered from. Chronic illness has no limited duration. Nor is it a death sentence, but a life sentence (should God not intervene). In a way, terminal illness is easier to cope with: there is a finish line. Chronic illness, is, well, chronic--interminable and often unbearable. Ministering to these folks requires patience and kindness. It requires the creative love described in 1 Corinthians 13. It requires an infusion of grace from the Holy Spirit to reach out to those who may not be able to "pay back" your efforts, those who are not cheerful after years of pain and crushed dreams, those who are weary and skeptical of real help after so many have faded out so quickly.
There are no easy answers on how to help the chronically ill, even if you have fathomed something of their fate. But one can put oneself in their shoes, in their compromised bodies through sympathetic imagination. Then one may contribute acts of kindness, no matter how small, to help alleviate the loneliness and frustrations. It may simply be a phone call or an email to provide fellowship and alleviate loneliness. Most importantly, ask the ill person what she or he needs. It may be other than you think. They probably know better than you do, so please consult them! And if you tell them you will pray for them, do so earnestly and seriously (1 Thes. 5:17). Otherwise, your words are empty.
The chronically ill in our midst want and need to heard and helped. Ask God to make you a listening ear and a helping hand.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Prayers for the Sick
Let me offer these beautiful and biblical prayers from The Book of Common Prayer to my readers who struggle with chronic, acute, and even terminal illnesses. Notice that they call out to God for healing (they are not fatalistic), but they also ask for grace through the process.
Prayers for the Sick
For a Sick Person
O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need: We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit, and relieve thy sick servant N. for whom our prayers are desired. Look upon him with the eyes of thy mercy; comfort him with a sense of thy goodness; preserve him from the temptations of the enemy; and give him patience under his affliction. In thy good time, restore him to health, and enable him to lead the residue of his life in thy fear, and to thy glory; and grant that he may dwell with thee in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Prayers for the Sick
For a Sick Person
O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need: We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit, and relieve thy sick servant N. for whom our prayers are desired. Look upon him with the eyes of thy mercy; comfort him with a sense of thy goodness; preserve him from the temptations of the enemy; and give him patience under his affliction. In thy good time, restore him to health, and enable him to lead the residue of his life in thy fear, and to thy glory; and grant that he may dwell with thee in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
For Recovery from Sickness
O God, the strength of the weak and the comfort of sufferers: Mercifully accept our prayers, and grant to your servant N. the help of your power, that his sickness may be turned into health, and our sorrow into joy; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
or this
O God of heavenly powers, by the might of your command you drive away from our bodies all sickness and all infirmity: Be present in your goodness with your servant N., that his weakness may be banished and his strength restored; and that, his health being renewed, he may bless your holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
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