Scripture: Mark 9:28-29
When he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, "Why could we not cast it out?" He said to them, "This kind can come out only through prayer."
Reflection Questions:
Have you ever experienced simply being unable to do something or to help someone? How did you feel? How do you respond when you find yourself powerless? Where is God to be found in your vulnerability?
Five-minute Story:
Last week I mentioned my first encounter with Georgia, the social worker at the ER of University Hospital in Newark. Over the course of my eleven weeks in my Clinical Pastoral Education training, we became friendly during my overnight on-call rotation. From her decades of social work, she was a source of mentoring wisdom for this young and green pastoral student.
On the second visit, I offered to get us some coffee. I didn't realize at that time that the hospital cafeteria had already closed for the night. When I asked a security guard, he said that the only place to get coffee at that time of night was across the street. The Dunkin Donuts was open twenty-four hours. No problem, right?
Except, it was a problem for me. I was going to have to leave the safety of the hospital grounds and walk across the street in a rough area of the city at midnight. All my pre-conditioning told me that I was in a place where a white man doesn't want to be after dark. Since I was a child, I had heard stories of the Newark riots and the gun violence in the city. Recently, I heard other stories about the infamous riots where folks fired bullets into the hospital ER on that very street. Fear and trembling had made my anxiety and blood pressure rise.
Just a cup of coffee. It was a small token of appreciation and friendship. What harm could come? Fear is an elaborate storyteller that can weave a sordid tale. The scenario was already worked out for me: "chaplain student found dead while wearing a clerical collar- silly boy, he thought it would stop bullets, it didn’t. Unholy bullet tragically hits a holy target." Fear told the story with such certainty that I thought it had already happened.
Before I left the hospital grounds, I had even considered turning back. “I’m sorry, but Dunkin Donuts ran out of coffee;” it was an implausible lie. It would have exposed my fears and prejudices to this dear woman. I couldn’t reveal such worries to this dear women. I found myself at a crossroad of decision. Either I should give in to the well-formed and long-held biased fears of my past, or I would have to find a little courage to crack open the door and take a step outside my comfort box.
When I opened the donut shop door, I was petrified. Had anyone said, “Boo,” I would have jumped three feet. Keeping my head down, I ordered the coffee. Can’t recall much else other than nervously smiling and thanking the guy behind the counter.
I returned to Georgia with our coffees. We talked for the next hour enjoying the hot beverage. I felt like I accomplished a great deal that night even though It involved only walking across the street and back. I learned that if we accept fear’s narrative, we will never be able to participate in hospitality that we will find just outside Fear's door…