Sermon

And in whose name have you come as I lie here in filth and intoxication? Have you come here out of compassion in His name or are you afraid I will reflect my upbringing? "My son, when first I heard, my reaction was that of a mother whose child is in danger. Maternal instincts had the power over me.On sight of your condition I wept. Who had done this to you? All I can see is the external damage. There are no mirrors for you to see this; nor can I see the internal damage going on in you. The two of us are suffering, not knowing what evil spirit had taken over or why. As the panic subsides I ask, What has happened?"" " You answer, "I am sorry," and we go home. The full reality of the situation settles in after my first response to your crisis. Shame and anger grip me. "How could you do this to me?" Yes, I was afraid my neighbors might see and judge me. I, who always felt "less than" to begin with. "Let her be known by the fruit she bears." Tonight I see that fruit rotting under the tree. I cannot take the pain of all this. I go into isolation. My second reaction to your calls for help becomes routine; my feelings are exhausted. You still have no mirror to see your face. I am no X-ray machine to see your anguish. We go home. I walk into isolation, you into self-pity. We both lie in ignorance. There is a demon in our house. I know not why. While I deal with the demon as best I can, I find I do not gossip or judge others so much, but rather find myself reaching to my God to show me the way. My neighbors I am less concerned with, and by bonding with the Higher Power, I am strengthened. You ask me in whose name have I come? I do not know. I am only human; I dare not speak for Him. Through Him, I have been able to see how much pain you are in. Your guilt, remorse, and disgust with yourself have been revealed to me. No mirrors have I to show you your condition. Rather I will leave you tonight, not taking you home, praying that your God, not mine, will reveal these matters to you. My son, I leave you now in peace. Thy will be done, not mine.

Copyright; Ruth Mahoney 6-Mar-88