Faces

"I see dead people. They're everywhere."- Cole Sear's confession to his Psychologist in The Sixth Sense. "There are dead things- dead faces in the water!" -Samwise Gamgee, traveling through the dead marshes in The Twin Towers. All the Lonely People by the Beatles I look at all the lonely people. I look at all the lonely people. Ella Marigby Picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been; Lives in a dream. Waits at the window, Wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for? All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong? Father MacKenzie Writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear; No one comes near. Look at him working, Nodding his socks in the night when there's nobody there. What does he care? All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong? I look at all the lonely people. I look at all the lonely people. Ella Marigby Died in the church and was buried alone with her name. Nobody came. Father MacKenzie Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from her grave. No one was saved. All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong? Matthew 25:1-46 (The Sheep and the Goats). Verses 34-36 Then the King will say to those on his right, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." Verses 41-43 Then the King will say to those on his left, "Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me." I am sure I have heard a sermon on this passage at least once a year every year of my life since I was born. No doubt they were all very well spoken- the passage and its meaning are not difficult to retrieve from the misty recesses of my memory. Then again, the Word of God is powerful no matter who speaks it. But it's haunting me now. Or rather, they're haunting me. The faces. The young man walking as quickly as he could towards the walk way over the river, hood up and looking down, trying to hide his face from passers-by. He was crying. Hard. He stunned me with the rawness of his hurt- a hurt so great he couldn't even hide it from the strangers he was trying so desperately to avoid. At first I continued my way in the opposite direction, but I got to the corner and felt compelled to go back. Are you okay? Can I pray for you? Where are you going? Is there anyone else in your life who can be with you through this? I followed him. He sped up. I started trotting. He started jogging. I followed him to the river pathway, then just watched to make sure he wasn't throwing himself off the bridge into the icey river below. He didn't. Deja vu. It was like passing and then following a male version of myself a couple months ago. Poor man. Not only was his heart and soul publicly broken, but in addition, when he's just trying to find solitude to heal in, some nosey woman starts stalking him. I let him be. I prayed someone he wouldn't be so creeped out by would find him and let him know God loves him and wants to heal him. A teen walking on the cross-over from a train station to the sidewalk. Repulsed of society: he was overweight, foreign, alone, dressed in a geeky track-suit, observably mentally retarded, and loudly moaning to himself. He walked with a limp, and his ankles were red with frost-bite. Why isn't he wearing socks? It's -30 degrees with wind-chill today. Where is his family? Where are his friends? Does he have any? Why is he moaning? Does he need help getting down the steps? I hurried past him, envisioning how I could ask if he needed assistance even as I rushed to the bottom of the stairs and continued on my way home, pretending he didn't exist like everyone else. It's hard to pray for someone when you're feeling guilty about failing to be the gospel incarnate you're asking God to bring them. A woman sitting on a bench in the mall. There's a walker in front of her- she seems a decade or two too young for it, but I guess poor health can hit anyone. She's frumpy-looking, and I wish I could take her shopping in this commercial mecca, then out for a manicure and hair-styling, and finally a fine dinner theatre experience where she can show it all off, to remind her that she's beautiful and loved. But it's her facial expression that literally stops me in my tracks. There is only one word to describe it: ANGUISH. She is in agony- physical, I think, probably connected to a spinal injury. Are you okay? You're sitting alone, with no shopping bags nearby, and it's almost time for the mall to close. Is anyone coming to get you? Why are you here? I stand in indecision. I don't want to embarrass her, but I don't want her to feel abandoned in her suffering by God and all of humanity. My friend has turned around and is looking back at me, wondering why I've stopped. We're here to buy my friend a ring to commemorate her newfound freedom from spiritual oppression in her life- a powerful event that occurred earlier this week while I was writing papers. The woman stretches with a trembling hand to a trendy young woman reading on the other side of the bench. She taps twice, until the girl cannot ignore the woman any more. The woman indicates a spot on her neck and the girl obliges her by feeling it. I decide that she has been taken care of and continue on with my friend. Later, we pass the woman again. The girl has gone back to her reading, and the woman is sitting alone, looking lost. I look at her and offer a friendly smile. I see you. You're not invisible. You matter. She does not, cannot, return the smile, drops her eyes to the ground, and begins the laborious process of rising to her feet. I kept walking with my friend, knowing I should have stopped. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do (Romans 7:15). These are the faces of the weak, mine and theirs. The faces are everywhere. I feel them looking at me; searching, wanting, always needing more than I think I can give. On the c-train, when I go for walks, in my class, over the phone. I dread the calls from those same people when I'm at the DC. My silent questions are always the same: Are you okay? Where are your friends? Where is your family? They're nowhere. Unavailable or untrustworthy. And so, I'm forced to make inadequate referrals to therapists and help-lines they wouldn't need if there were just a handful of people in the world who cared how their day was, who would stand with them long enough to discover the names of the demons in their lives and then command them with the authority of Christ to leave. Acts 3:1-10 Verses 6 & 7. Then Peter said, "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk." Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man's feet and ankles became strong. The apostles (1) saw the crippled man, (2) stopped to talk to him, and (3) offered him physical healing through the power of Christ, so that the crippled man could be restored to his friends and family, able to be a part of society instead of sitting at its gate. So far, all I've got down is step one. Occassionally I get to step two. I want to get to step three. Why is it so hard? And why am I training so hard to become a psychologist when some good intercessory prayer is so much more effective? We've already been over this, Faye. You need an 'in'. People need bridges between science and spirituality, someone who can translate the language of faith in one to the other. I have called you to bridge, to walk in the no man's land between worlds where few tread. Remain in me... The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) by Jesus Christ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.