The Value of Kindness

I had the opportunity recently, spending many hours in a local hospital emergency room, surrounded by other patients struggling with a multitude of issues - some obvious, but most not.

Twenty hours is a long time to look out of the waiting room window, but I remember appreciating the dark night turning into a cloudless morning. The transition from night to day happened so very gradually, yet I was transfixed by the process for what seemed like an age.

I felt in my heart the words of the Psalmist: 'Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning'. Psalm 30:5.

Indeed all things are transitory in nature and life is constantly in flux and often unpredictable.

The Emergency Department is a place that reflects that reality. As I sat and looked around me, the people I saw were an eclectic mix.

There were: the chronically unwell, the dying, the suicidal, and those who had been involved in accidents and mishaps of all varieties.

I saw and spoke with those who were alone, unsure of the future, and frightened as to what the doctors might find. 

Yet there were also those who had family members by their sides throughout their stay, or at least for the most important parts of it.

There were those who looked weary, sad, and in pain, but there were also people who were laughing and chatting with people they had never previously met, and may never meet again.

There was, in a real sense, an invisible yet palpable thread of connection that ran through the entire group. We were bonded by our vulnerability, uncertainty, and for the most part, dignity in suffering.

I heard the life stories of several patients throughout the first night and approaching the next. I saw the rawness of frustration at the long waiting times and pressures on beds. Yet I also saw love in the eyes of those who talked movingly about their family members or significant moments in their lives.

Vulnerability, however much we try to avoid it, has a habit of drilling down to the core of what matters most - who we truly are.

In all of this, the simplest acts of kindness become incredibly important: the hushed word of reassurance, or recognition; the sharing of family photos on phones; the stories told of travels experienced or planned; the hopes for the future. 

Those acts of kindness resonated softly through the waiting rooms and treatment bays of an overcrowded hospital - a place where nobody wanted to be.

Despite that, or perhaps because of it, periodically patients asked other patients whether they wanted tea, coffee, water, and even shared sweets.

Such moments of tenderness, if we allow ourselves to feel them, are profound and deeply meaningful. 

The truth is, in the midst of our busyness, those everyday moments pass us by, and that is such a shame. 

The Old and New Testaments teach us that all people are equal in value, dignity, and standing before God, primarily because everyone is created in God's image (Genesis 1:26-28). 

Also, as the Holocaust Survivor and Psychiatrist Dr, Viktor Frankl made clear, there is no hierarchy of suffering. 

Every person in that Emergency Department was suffering, whether physically, emotionally, or psychologically. Each person has a life story or experience that would, in all likelihood, cause us to weep if we heard it.

And yes, that includes the staff on duty, working under pressure and in difficult circumstances. 

None of us are spared suffering. Jesus Jesus told his disciples, "In this world you will have trouble" (John 16:33), making it clear that trials are a guarantee, not an exception.

Yet we are never alone in our suffering. Psalm 34:18 states so beautifully: "The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit".

Our kindness is a manifestation of love. For those of us who are Christian, of whatever persuasion, we understand that our call to follow Christ is not easy, and we will fail in that task more times than we can count.

Nevertheless, we have a responsibility to try as hard as we can to act in a manner consistent with his teachings and example.

The famous poem/prayer attributed to the 16th Century Spanish mystic, St, Teresa of Avila, is a powerful reminder that we are Jesus' physical presence on earth.

It is therefore fitting, in the context of kindness and love, to finish with her words:

Christ Has No Body

"Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.

Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours".

AMEN