Listen to me whining. Ha! How many patients would trade places with me right now? One such patient, bravely facing the end of her life asked me that very question last night: "Would you like to trade places with me?" Even though I could die a hundred ways tomorrow, preceding her in death, I answered honestly, "No."
Oy, so much sorrow.
I have heard of sages who say they firmly believe in a multidimensional universe, astral planes, angels, and reincarnation. They say that these angels, these purely spiritual beings line up to be born into a human existence because it brings them closer to entering into Nirvana – into being one with God, into deathlessness.
Perhaps it's also about being alive, organically alive. But I can't help wondering - really There are entities out there that can't wait to be human?
One of my colleagues gave a lovely homily the other day about Kairos and Chronos. In loose theological terms, these Greek words mean that Kairos is God Time and Chronos is Human Time. For humans, the clock ticks. For God, there is no time; there just IS. But my friend says that when we experience "time out of time" there's always the possibility for us to have a Kairos experience. In the play, A Long Day's Journey into Night writer Eugene O'Neill expresses the notion of Kairos beautifully in the dialogue of one of the characters who had been a merchant marine or sailor of sorts. The character describes a time when he stretched out on the deck of the ship to gaze at a clear and starry night sky:
"When I was on the Squarehead square rigger, bound for Buenos Aires. Full moon in the Trades. The old hooker driving fourteen knots. I lay on the bowsprit, facing astern, with the water foaming into spume under me, the masts with every sail white in the moonlight, towering high above me. I became drunk with the beauty and singing rhythm of it, and for a moment I lost myself -- actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm, became moonlight and the ship and the high dim-starred sky! I belonged, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life, or the life of Man, to Life itself! To God, if you want to put it that way."
Yup, that's it, Eugene...that's what I'm talking about...a Kairos experience.
Perhaps it's that we humans get to experience both Kairos and Chronos - we get to crossover in a way that other dimensional beings do not...if indeed there are other-dimensional beings. I won't rule out the possibility - there's too much we don't know about Life, the Universe, and Everything.* Anyway, I'm agnostic about almost everything so no use trying to pin me down on this.
But I can't help but wonder - really? There are entities out there that can't wait to be human?
After a long night in the hospital ministering to folks in some form of distress or misery, I sat pondering this in the quiet sanity of the chapel. Much of the suffering I see in this hospital arises from the brokenness in our world: institutional racism, oppression, and a broken healthcare system from which arises a high infant mortality rate and a host of chronic health problems; cycles of poverty and marginalization out of which come teens and young adults losing their souls to drugs, alcohol, gang violence, and incarceration; a persistent patriarchy which tolerates violence against women and abuse of children; and a privileged class at the helm of our society who can go about their business largely unaware that their flourishing has an enormous hidden cost. I recently read a post on Facebook that said Senator McCain and a fellow politico went to the Arizona/Mexico border to check out the immigration problem there. Their mode of transportation over the border was an airplane. If this is true it makes a perfect metaphor for the myopia of privilege.
Every day, I am witness to tormented minds, grieving hearts, and aching bodies and I think how can I, nay, how can WE humans endure? I search my heart and come up with only this: we give it up, we surrender, we give over all this pain and sorrow to the gods as burnt offerings from this mortal coil. The gods are jealous, you say? They want to live in Chronos time? In the wake of this hard night, I'd say to them, be careful what you wish for.
Ah but then 9:00 a.m. comes. I hand over my pager and I walk out of the hospital into fresh air, a blue sky, and birdsong all about. I remember that for the last 16 hours I have ministered to the sickest of the sick in a five county area; I remind myself that most of those people at some time in their lives have experienced such an exquisite morning as this; perhaps they will yet experience many more.
I breathe deeply and drink in the sweetness of the early spring morning. My cynicism and frustration melt away. I feel utterly blessed, grateful to be alive in all this shimmering aliveness. Yes, on a morning like this I'd be a jealous god too.
*Words from the work of Douglas Adams
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