The Healing Spirit

In the halls of my Alma Mater, Wesley Theological Seminary, is a fresco called The Healing Spirit. It stretches the length of a tunnel that connects two buildings. It is upsetting, or at least it has always upset me. I have never liked looking at it. I remember the first time that I walked past it. It confused me, and disoriented me. It starts in deep pain with an image that always reminds me of a gunshot. The colors get deeper as you travel through the tunnel. Then light starts to creep in. The colors changes. At the end there is a figure who seems to be walking away, surrounded by brightness. Beside her is a panel with scripture that speaks of hope. The Healing Spirit was created by Woong-Sik Chon after the death of his child. It chronicles his journey.

When I pass by the fresco, I tend to look away. I don’t like seeing someone else’s pain laid so bear and raw in front of me.

Over the past month I have stopped avoiding the fresco. Sometimes, I stand in the tunnel and stop and I look deeply and fully at the first set of panels. I see the initial crisis. I feel it. I am not ready to walk towards the words of hope. I stay in the pain.

I don’t know how you are feeling now. I don’t know if you are ready to keep walking through the tunnel. I don’t know what you need. I know what I need. I do not need to go on pretending that I am not hurting. I do not need to go on spending my days damming up the flood of my feelings to keep other people feeling happier.

I do not need to be told that the time for lamentation is over. It isn’t for me.

My heart is weary. My soul feels heavy-laden. I was told yesterday, during what seemed like the 100^th  prayer vigil that I have had to attend in the past month, that I did not have the luxury of becoming hopeless. I have too much to do. My God is too great. People are hurting too much for us to give up, but that is all that I want to do.

I need a reminder that in times like these, I’m not alone in my pain. So I want to say to you and to myself, you are not alone. A lot of folks are in this struggle with us. I need to know that my life has value. So now I say to you and to myself, your life has value. You are worthy. You are loved. Your life matters. You were created in the image of God. By God’s own hands. How amazing is it to know that the same God that created the ocean, the sunset, the Grand Canyon, the starry night sky, looked at you and decided the world needed you too. That’s how important, how worthy, and how valuable your life is. No matter how many mistakes you make. No matter how many times you have to ask for forgiveness, no matter how many times you have to try again, you are loved. God’s grace and mercy surround you.

Remember though, the God that died for you and that loves you and that gives your life worth also loves your neighbor. God loves your gay neighbor, your drug addicted neighbor, you neighbor that doesn’t speak your language, your neighbor that makes you feel terrible about yourself, your neighbor who doesn’t look like you, your neighbor that denies your humanity, God loves that neighbor as much as God loves you.

We can’t change people’s hearts. We can only show people what a heart wrapped in the love of God looks like..

Jesus had a lot to say about the love of our neighbors. He actively sought out the ones that he was told he should not like. What would it look like if we did that? How might the world change if we reached across the things that divide us and grabbed the hand of the ones we are told to avoid? What if we talked to the police officers? What if we prayed with the people who don’t look like us? What if we asked a person who has slandered our names to go out to lunch? What if we invited our enemy to dinner in our home?  What would that look like? How would it change the world?

I think the only thing that could bring me from one end of the tunnel to the other would be reaching out a hand to someone else who is hurting and afraid. I can’t take the journey on my own. I don’t have to though, God gave me you. God gave us each other.