Her Name Was Alice
It was a dreary South Carolina day in the fall of 2001. I had just left my New Testament Theology course and was wrestling with trying to understand the content which was just delivered. In class that day our professor was trying to land the concept of the incarnation. Specifically, what it meant for Jesus and second how it should impact us. I remember him challenging us that it was not enough to simply care for others, but rather we were to embody the very love that Jesus demonstrated to those He cared for. To be honest, it was an extremely hard concept for me to grasp. I knew in my heart, that many I was caring for at the time, were simply out of obligation not love. I understood the concept intellectually but could not practically explain how it was to be lived out.
During those seminary days I drove directly from class in the morning to my job at the local hospital where I worked as a Trauma MRI technician. That evening it was my responsibility to scan the inpatients from the AIDS clinic on the eighth floor. For many of these patients they were entering their final days from battle-ling this horrible disease. Mid evening a patient was brought to me by the name of Alice. Alice was dirty and her IV was hanging out of her arm. It was obvious that due to her condition and no family being around that she was getting little attention from the hospital staff. As I had done hundred’s of times before I jumped into motion. I briefly cleaned her up, started a new IV and then off we were to scan her brain. Never once did I make eye contact!
About mid way through the scan I needed to pull her out of the tunnel to administer contrast. As the table slid past me I caught a glimpse of her face. It was evident she had been crying. Up until that point Alice was simply a task. Something to be checked off. Now, she was something more. After placing the contrast in her arm I decided to something I had never done before. I took off my gloves and placed my hand on her.
This past week while reading “Who Needs Theology” by Stanley J. Grenz and Roger E. Olson I was struck by the statement, “Good theology is never content to remain on the theoretical level; it always affects life.” The basic premise being that theology left on paper but not integrated throughout the fabric of life is in a sense “bastard theology”. One without a point. While critically thinking through this statement three key themes began to emerge.
Good theology which affects life…
Happens in proximity… Deeply caring for Alice could only come from physically being present. Touching her arm, skin to skin. Looking in her eyes, sensing her pain. Each had to happen within close proximity. Without close proximity we can often minister from a position of being disconnected. The act of being close communicated deeply within her humanity that she was valuable and as well made the very essence of her human nature real to me. not just an object to be studied.
Happens on an emotional level… Keeping our gloves on not only sterilizes us from physical contact but also keeps us from being touched emotionally. Many christian leaders deny the emotions of anger, sadness and fear. On some level we believe that to show these emotions is unsafe or even spiritually unhealthy. In reality, to feel is to be human. To minimize or deny what we feel is a distortion of what it means to be fully human. To remain emotionally detached we will cut off the potential to understand theology in its fullest capacity.
Happens outside of time… If we simply live hurried frenetic lives we will miss the moments where theology and life connect. That night in the MRI suite I had a tremendous patient load which needed to be scanned. For many of us there was a tendency to race the clock and see how many people could be scanned. Production was the name of the game. Time is money! However, when producing, names were reduced to a tag, human beings and souls were reduced to a body to be studied. To slow, step outside of time we begin to see with different eyes.
Taking off the gloves…
Alice’s distant stare now took on life as she looked directly into my eyes. She said, “I have not been touched by anyone not wearing gloves in over three years.” With tears running down her eyes, she said, thank you for making me feel human again. My heart broke. I realized that the very principle shared in class that morning was now being played out before my very eyes. What was simply a job before, a task to be accomplished, was now a living being. One with emotions as well as friends and family members who were all about to lose someone they deeply cared for. I realized God was changing my heart and my theology! What was theoretical that morning in class was now incarnated into my soul.
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