It’s possible that very soon my friend, Gladys, will be called home. Poison in her system cannot be contained. Her kidneys are shutting down. Her lungs are weary. She is in pain. My friend is impatient to go home, yet — a faithful servant of God to the end — she does not ask anyone to send her before her time.
What Gladys does ask is that she be kept as pain-free as possible. In an article I wrote years ago, I quoted Dr. Matthew Conolly. He acknowledged that the greatest fear of most patients — and, thus, the reason that “mercy killing” or euthanasia grows ever popular — is pain. Too many physicians believe their most important role is to heal or cure. When they cannot, the patient may become a reminder of the doctor’s “failure.” At such times, some physicians abandon the patient. What they could do, as Dr. Conolly pointed out, is learn the art of caring for the patient even when the prognosis is not good. What they could do is to learn the art of pain control. Appropriate pain control does not hasten death, but brings dignity to both patient and family.
Today, my friend’s daughter — my dear friend, Rita — is talking to the hospital chaplain and hospice care workers. Rita does not want to decide when her mother should die. That is up to God. But, she does want to do all she can to keep her mother comfortable.
I am reminded of a story I’ve shared when speaking about end-of-life issues. A pastor’s wife, in her battle against cancer, was undergoing extensive treatment. She was placed on a rubber cooling blanket to keep her temperature down. It was very uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I can stand this,” she told her husband. “If you cannot,” he told her, “tell the nurses you want to discontinue this treatment.” Then, anxious and exhausted, he left to get a few hours sleep. When he returned, he was greeted by a nurse. “Boy, does you wife have something to tell you.” The pastor rushed in to his wife’s room where he found her smiling. “What happened?” he asked. “It was wonderful,” she said. Sometime after you left, I could bear it no more. I prayed that God lift me from this suffering. And, you know what? Angels appeared. I felt warm; snug as a bug. I slept.”
Does God know our pain? Does He hear us when we ask for comfort? For strength to endure? For courage? Think about Jesus as He was preparing to take on the sins of the world. On the night He was betrayed, He took His disciples with Him to the garden. He told them, “Do not fall into temptation, but pray.” Then He went off by Himself. He was in anguish. His sweat was like drops of blood. “Father,” He prayed, “if You are willing, take this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” Do you know what happened? An angel from heaven appeared to Him and strengthened Him. (Luke 22:39-43)
When our physicians cannot heal, may we encourage them to comfort. To seek better pain control.
And, when we feel that we are falling into temptation — ready to ask someone to end our life and send us on our way home — may we, instead, call upon the Great Physician. The One who knows pain. Who carried sorrow. Who endured every whip and lash for our benefit. If God heard the plea of His own dear Son, Jesus Christ, and sent an angel to strengthen Him, won’t He also hear us? Won’t He give us exactly what we need, when we need it, until His work through us is done?
Through suffering God teaches us patient endurance, and comforts us with the knowledge that we share in Christ’s sufferings. It is a radically counter-cultural thing to take joy in suffering. Everything in our culture today is directed to the end of eliminating suffering, pain, anguish, etc. And, while I’m not against responsible use of pain control medication, I do think that we sometimes try too hard to avoid pain. God wants us to learn to trust in Him, even when He seems to be absent from us. But it is in the cross, in suffering, in misery that we find ourselves closest to him, because, as Paul says, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” God’s power is made perfect in our weakness. Job is, of course, the ultimate example of this. In pain, Job found the Lord. As a pastor I often remind people to find their joy and comfort in the promises of the Gospel. The Psalms are the prayerbook of the hurting.
What you say is true. Joy in pain is counter-cultural. Unfortunately, fear of pain is also a “door opener” to so-called “mercy killing” or euthanasia. Fear of the unknown, of not being able to withstand pain, of loosing dignity… these things frighten people. As C.S. Lewis once said something like, “You ask how I feel about pain when I’m not writing about it? I will tell you. I am a coward.” God is good. In all things He is good. Sitting in the dentist’s chair may ultimately be a good thing, but it doesn’t mean we like being there.
In addition to encouraging the medical community to develop better pain management, we need to be attentive at the bedside of our loved ones. My friend Rita is doing this. In my own family’s case, we spent months at the bedside of my husband’s father — the first go-around, and then a few years later, much more time again between home and hospital. During such times, we remind the patient of their dignity and value as creations of God and treasures of Christ. We remind them that God is faithful to work through them, even while lying helpless and in (hopefully) manageable pain.
We do not take this lightly. As I’ve said, my generation that ushered in abortion may very well be ushered out by euthanasia. We will need to stand guard over our loved ones — and ask that someone stand guard over us — until God’s work in and through us is finished.
Linda
Here’s a little different twist. My pastor notes that we too often put our energies into avoiding or even eliminating pain and suffering all together. He’s right. I am thinking of circumstances other than illness. Today’s society tells a pregnant young woman, “You don’t have to suffer this pregnancy and the changes it will force upon you. Just have an abortion.” How many mothers will admit: Yes! There is suffering in childbirth. In parenting through tough times. In forfeiting personal desires for the sake of another. But, most mothers (and fathers) would do it all over again — counting it a joy and privilege.
I have always loved the passage in Hebrews that speaks of Jesus, “who, for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising its shame…” That tells us a lot about how our Lord viewed his own suffering, and how a Christian is called to suffer. “Who for the JOY that was set before him…”
I see nothing wrong with praying for relief from suffering. Jesus did it. We certainly can pray that God would ease our suffering, that he would hasten its departure, but we finally commend ourselves into his gracious hands and say, “Yet not my will, but yours be done Father.”
If I were in hospital, in great suffering, I would take with me my Psalter, and I would pray the Psalms daily, hourly even, and if I could not pray them, I would ask those who watched over me to do it for me. There is so much comfort in them. There are even complaint Psalms. It is when crosses are laid upon us that we most identify with Christ our Savior.