Amazing grace

It was one of “those” pastoral moments . . . Joyce had e-mailed me about her spiritual struggle. It was a heart-rending note.

Dear James: There is something I would like to talk about, but whenever I think about talking to you on the phone about this, I start to cry. And the same thing happens when I think about talking to you about it in person. When I first got sick, I kept on praying like I always did, but somewhere along the way, I stopped. I feel like God is ignoring me, and so I am ignoring Him.

Joyce came to church later in life but with the joy and exhilaration of a youth. She spoke of life beginning again and her beaming smile, her probing and persistent theological questions, and her careful listening made me proud to have played a role in her spiritual journey. She saw me as a person with Answers.

Inside myself I knew that the cracks in those answers were substantial but her testimony and baptism are highlights in my ministry and I love our conversations. I try to be appropriately humble but it should not be too much to expect that I should have some insights. Right?

And then she got sick. Chronic heart disease sapped her energy. For several months her newly minted faith and the prayers of the church carried her along – even when the news came that emergency surgery was needed and she might only have days to live. But that crisis passed and the endless and degenerative grind of chronic illness took over. Joyce was deeply discouraged.

So what would the “Answer Man” say now? I dug down and out of my own pathos I wrote back. And it was as if the Spirit of God directed my thoughts and words. I drew on 18 years of sitting with the sick and dying in a pastoral role. I knew that there are no simple answers and I did not give any. But I did share an insight the oldest member of our church – a 98-year-old woman who has walked the earth as a saint – shared with me. When she is too sick to pray, she told me, she relies on others to pray for her. Praying both for and on behalf of each other is what it means to carry each other’s burdens. I wrote:

Joyce, we are not only praying that God restore you to health and good spirits – we are also humbly praying on your behalf, and as we see you in pain, your prayers rise up to God in our words. We lift you up in your time of need as we know you have and will lift us up when we need it.

I was under no illusion when I sent the e-mail. I know that mere words can be shallow comfort to those who are suffering but I also knew that these words came from the depths of my own soul and that they were everything I had to offer. I sent it with some trepidation but also a deep confidence in its insights, but I was not ready for the reply.

Dear James: Thank you for sending the point of view about praying, but my perspective was a different one . . . It dawned on me that it was just my lack of trust. It was like the old light bulb went on in my head. I immediately felt better – just like that!

Her reply made me laugh and cry. God had touched Joyce’s spirit. For all my good intentions and cumulative “wisdom” I had answered the wrong question. I had not missed it by a little bit; I had missed it by a mile. Joyce had been gracious but her “Answer Man” was just another well-intentioned friend.

But God had answered the cry of her heart. He had used her courage to write down a painful truth and my willingness to give everything I had to offer, but God’s healing for Joyce was His own. That is amazing.

Some 2000 years ago another preacher was wrestling with the questions of pain and suffering and God gave him this answer. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” And he said, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9–10).

That’s a pretty good tool in any pastoral tool kit. And I think it is not sacrilegious to be thankful that even when we think we are wise, God can work through us.

James Toews is pastor of Neighbourhood Church, Nanaimo, B.C. He is writing this column every other issue during 2005.