When I was a very young boy I would have this recurring nightmare. I would see my parents with me. The setting would begin as somewhere common to me at my home. Then everything around my parents would dim to black darkness, and a feeling of emptiness would overcome me. Next, the image of my parents would fade, as if becoming increasingly more difficult for me to be with them. My nightmare would climax with me alone in the emptiness, wanting to scream, cry out for my parents not to leave, but I was unable to do so. I would wake up terrified. With my heart pounding, I would run to my parents' bedroom and wake them up. Naturally, they would ask me what is wrong, but all I could say was I had a bad dream. At that age, I wanted desperately for them to understand. But, not only was I without the vocabulary, I wasn't even sure I knew what I just experienced in my dreams.
I know now that my dream represented death, or more precisely my primal fear of being left alone, helplessly deprived of the ones I love. I have come to understand that dreams like mine are actually quite common in children.
Today's Bible verse touches upon that same primal fear. For this reason it is part of a larger reading that is often used in funerals. Our modern interpretation misses the mark a bit here. The problem that Paul is describing is not that we know what we need to pray for and simply can't find the correct words to ask for it. The problem is that we do not even know what to want, let alone how to ask for it. The problem is the kind of helplessness like that of a child's nightmare.
There are times when we are helpless. This Bible reading is not only for funerals. As a matter of fact, Lent is a time for us to acknowledge our helplessness before the God whose promise it is to restore our strength. however, God doesn't restore our strength with a new plan for us to overcome our weakness. When we are helpless, he will send the Holy Spirit to intercede for us. In other words, God doesn't merely strengthen us...He is our strength. On the cross, God embodies our primal fears. He doesn't call to us from the other side of our fears, encouraging us from afar to "buck up and get over it". God enters our fears, dwells within it with us, and moves us beyond it.
There are times when we can do likewise for others. Sometimes the best way to comfort someone grieving is not to try and fix it with our words or actions, but just to sit with them in it, to be present with them in their helplessness. Such quiet empathy can convey God's strength better than anything else. When we don't even know what to want, let alone the words to ask for it, we need the Holy Spirit to intercede with groanings too deep for words. It is sometimes this very divine presence that we are privileged to witness when we are willing to be with a loved one in their grief.
Heavenly Father, when we are helpless, when we do not even know what to want, send your Holy Spirit to intercede for us. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment