Lord relieve me of my physical pain. I can deal with the spiritual pain. - Oscar Wilde
Wilde knew whereof he spoke since the great writer spent two years at body-ripping and soul-tearing labor in a British prison in the 19th century. In the midst of physical pain, we agree with what Wilde wrote. But, in the midst of spiritual pain, do we not feel a certain agony that may exceed that which assaults our bodies?
The astounding documentary, Living in Emergency, screened recently at the Nashville Film Festival and hopefully in wide release soon, portrays the quietly heroic efforts of the courageous volunteers of Doctors Without Borders. One of the four doctors profiled, T.C. Krueger, M.D., is a Nashville acquaintance who has suddenly become one of my heroes.
In the film, we see Dr. Krueger and his colleagues diving into hell to heal the wounds of strangers. "Maybe fixing pain is a way of fixing myself," Dr. Krueger says at one moment. Yet it is this doctor's skill and strength that stagger our hearts. His willingness to suffer both physical discomfort and spiritual pain to help others describes the original meaning of the now overused word "awesome." Next to the work of these doctors, the everyday drudgery of most hospital meetings and the regular efforts we engage in the comfort of clean, well-lighted, well stocked places seem puny indeed.
Living in Emergency, directed by the brilliant Mark Hopkins, is the most powerful documentary I have experienced. It unflinchingly portrays physical pain among people in Liberia and the Congo in ways we don't want to see. It elevates and touches us with its searing truth. If we find the courage to look, we can only be moved by the excruciating torture these patients experience and the spiritual horror their caregivers engage as Love meets need in the most sacred of encounters.
The four doctors profiled are, of course, representative of thousands more not seen by the camera. Yet, they are a tiny percent of the world's caregivers. After all, who among us would voluntarily enter the cauldron of the Congo or Somalia or Sri Lanka to work long hours in terrible conditions for no pay? The answer appears in this marvelous film. And it's easy to see why Doctors Without Borders was a recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize.
The truth is, so many more of our fellow humans inflict pain instead of healing it. Even more of us simply turn away, as if this truth was some kind of lie we won't accept.
What do you think about physical and spiritual pain? How do you translate what you know of these kinds of pain into being a better vehicle of Love?
-Erie Chapman