Tasting Life Twice

In the World as a Rescue Worker

Some of the most compelling drama in all of our storytelling is that of the dramatic rescue.  Whether we are watching headline news or Hollywood’s latest, such stories captivate our attention and inspire our ambition.  No matter how many times we’ve heard one such story, we’re ready to hear another.  The storyline is predictable enough.  Someone is in trouble.  They fall down a well, get lost in a mine shaft, become trapped in a blizzard, are captured by the enemy or stranded at sea. The odds are against their survival.  There seems no way out.  And then, as if out of nowhere, a hero enters the scene and throws out a life jacket, shines a search light, offers a helping hand.  Suddenly, the darkness is not so dark and the nearly dead are home safe and sound.

Not so long ago, I heard another rescue story from a lady at church.  This one was about her daughter-in-law Judy, a 39-year old wife and mother of three.  For over a year, Judy battled an aggressive cancer which spread throughout her body, assiduously attacking her vital organs and shutting down her system.  In her final months, she was severely emaciated, a gaunt shadow of her former self.  After the doctors did what they could do, they sent her back to her small town so she could die at home.  No longer able to come out and play, Judy’s friends decided to go to her.  A few weeks before her final breath, two hundred friends surrounded her home, held hands and began tucking her in to eternity with songs of worship.  While lying on her bed and with the windows open, she found grace and comfort from those friends who came to rescue her – not from death itself, but from the dread and isolation which so often accompany it.

When we hear the term “rescue worker”, we tend to think of those people specially trained to do this type of thing: paramedics, firefighters, or a search and rescue team.  But such a work belongs to each of us as part of the vocation of being human.  Garret Keizer, describes his own calling as a writer: “I am in the world like a rescue worker.  My work requires me to move the debris of Eden using the tools of language.”

Consider carefully what Keizer is saying.  The debris of Eden is all around us.   And part of our purpose here is to move the debris, wherever we find it, with whatever tools we have, at such times as we are able.  The debris around us may be the rubble of ruined relationships, feelings of loss or regret, chronic pain, overwhelming loneliness, anxiety about the future, inner distress, or the deep hurt of being injured by another.  And our work is to rescue people from underneath their crushing load.  The beautiful thing, the surprising thing is that we can carry on this work in any number of creative ways.  We can do it by finding a cure for cancer, opening a therapeutic riding center, teaching a child to read or simply doing our job well.  We can do it by speaking a word of encouragement, offering a friendly smile and showing genuine interest in another person’s well-being.  And we can do it by standing in a circle with friends and singing a song of comfort to those who mourn.