All Souls Sermon: The Meaning of Pain and A Dog Named Rider Sue Magoo

S1604834493_30027195_4553
Here's an excerpt from a recent sermon by Tom Martinez.  Not only is he a photographer and photo contributor  to Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn, he is also the pastor of All Souls Bethlehem Church, a "funky little house church that rocks" in Kensington, Brooklyn. Open to the world's religions, ASBC is affiliated with the United Church of Christ, the Disciples of Christ, and the Unitarian Universalist Association. Tom graduated from Union Theological Seminary in New York City in 2000, after working as a psychotherapist in the Seattle area.

…As I read about St. Patrick I couldn’t help thinking about Joseph, who, like Patrick, was sold into slavery.  Both men went on to do important work in the land where they once served as slaves.  I’d imagine neither had any idea that good would one day come out of their situations, just as any of us in the early phases of a difficult situation are able to imagine a time in the future when some good will come from our suffering.  But we know that often times we are eventually able to glean meaning from life’s pain.

I want to be clear that I’m not saying bad things happen for a reason.   God knows there’s been no shortage of ideas as to why bad things happen to good people but if you ask me they’re pretty much like the different explanations for the current economic mess the world is in.  I liked the letter in the New York Times recently by a Christopher Cook from Praque, who wrote a response to a piece the Times did in which 11 economists attempted to answer the question, “When Will the Recession be Over?”

“…Now that I’ve read their answers only one thing is clear.  In 11 different ways, they don’t know.”  I think the same thing could be said of the theological enterprise known as theodicy, which is the term used to describe explanations for why bad things happen. I’m suggesting we humbly accept that at present we just don’t know why that is.

But that’s not to say we have to leave it there.  Especially during this Lenten season, I think it’s important to note that, when it comes to suffering, human beings have an amazing capacity for finding meaning. 

Take my friend Rob for instance.  He’s battling ALS or Lou Gehrig's Disease. 

Why? 

Your guess is as good as mine.  But what does his suffering mean to him personally?  Lots of things.  For starters, it means he’s been forced to confront the reality of his mortality in ways few of us ever will.  He knows his time is limited and he knows he wants to spend his remaining days being the best husband and father and friend he can possibly be.  Rob is motivated by the power of love and, though he’s as baffled by his fate as the next guy, he is crystal clear about how he has chosen to respond.   In this way, he has redeemed his suffering.

Suffering without redemption is really nothing more than glorified masochism.  Woe is me, woe is the world.  Let me list all the terrible things that are going on.  (I know, I know, I’m guilty of doing precisely that myself.)  That’s because I know how easy it is to bury our heads in the sand and avoid the pain altogether, which is of course the other extreme in an unhealthy continuum

 I’d like to suggest this morning that in between the two extremes, of being exclusively focused on tragedy and of totally suppressing the pain and suffering of the world, there is a healthy middle ground that seeks to find meaning in suffering.  Again, I don’t mean to say that the goal is to answer the ultimate question as to why bad things happen.

I’m merely suggesting that, when we do, we look for the ways we can make sense of life’s pain, to find some sort of redeeming meaning in the midst of the storm. 

Take Kathy, for example.  She had a very difficult time getting pregnant and then lost two babies, one was one day old and the other was five days old. 

Unimaginable suffering and pain. 

Why did God allow that to happen?   No one can say.  But perhaps we can find meaning in her pain.

Fast-forward 27 years. Our new associate minister, Matthew, tells a story in church about another mother who lost her baby.  Imagine being Matthew, when Kathy comes up to him and says, “That’s so important that you were there for that woman.”  I mean, that would be affirming coming from anyone.  But because of all that Kathy had  been through her words had extra dimensions of meaning.  

 Picture 032

A friend of mine named Mark rode his motorcycle to Alaska and along the way he found a puppy that had been abandoned.  Long story short: you might see Mark driving through Manhattan with his now full-grown dog, Rider Sue Magoo, standing on the gas tank, a skill she practiced riding all the way back to NY from Alaska where Mark found him.

Mark is living with AIDS and one way he’s decided to make meaning out of his suffering is by showing up at schools and hospitals with Rider Sue Magoo.  There’s actually a certification program people with pets can undergo to do this sort of thing and Mark and Rider Sue Magoo completed the training and are now they’re regularly appearing at various places, bringing warmth and love.

Mark was telling me that he brought his dog to a school  the other day and ran through the usual routine, telling the kids about how he found Rider  Sue Magoo and what a great dog he is, then making time for the kids to pet him and feel the love.  When he was leaving he bumped into a couple of the kids out in front of the school and they chatted a bit more.  Mark got on his bike and Rider Sue Magoo jumped up on the gas-tank and as he was getting ready to roar off into the sunset the kid looked at him and said, “I hope to see you in life.”

Out of the mouths of babes.  “I hope to see you in life.”   How about this time next week?  Amen