Lessons from Flawed Saints

It was the spring of 1945. They had met only six weeks before. He was a cocky, happy-go-lucky, freshly-commissioned lieutenant in the US Army, sent to England in preparation for the Allied invasion of Europe. She was a reserved, very proper young lady, from a genteel English family “doing her bit” for her country, by working at the newly-repositioned (and secret) wartime headquarters of the Bank of England, in the tiny town of Whitchurch, far away from blitzed London.

          They were total opposites - in backgrounds, but also in personality. He was an absolutely buoyant optimist who never met a stranger and lived his life at an enthusiastic trot. He never seemed to walk anywhere. She, on the other hand was reserved and had experienced tragedy early in her life, when her father, at 55, collapsed on a London street from a massive stroke - and died in her arms. That had been on a Christmas Eve, and she was, at the time, just 15 years old. She’d learned early how unexpectedly and cruelly life can be upended.

          In any other world, these two might not have found, much less chosen each other, but in the intense, uncertain world of wartime bombings, semi-starvation and a perpetual sense of jeopardy, romances moved fast. When he asked her to marry him, only six weeks after they met, they were both transfixed with young love and eager to marry upon his return from France. He left for Normandy within the week.

          Three months: that’s how long they had known each other when she got word that he had been horrifically wounded, and was being evacuated back to England where, she was told, if he survived, the best she should expect was that he would be a bedridden paraplegic, in need of constant care, for the rest of his life. They were in their early 20s… perhaps decades of suffering lay ahead … if he survived at all!

          Who knows if she ever reconsidered her decision, but, within days she moved to the town where he lay in hospital, and set about the heart-yanking task of advocate and cheerleader… supporting and encouraging him through ongoing rampant infections and perpetual, searing nerve pain, as he endured over 100 surgeries, during what became nearly 7 years of hospitalizations. His massive injuries, and precarious condition meant that they were not able to marry until nearly 6 years into the ordeal.

          But, as their life soon revealed… love - the practice of love toward one another - was (and is) a multiplier of efforts! When told he’d never get out of bed, together, they made that their single focus. Because his mangled arms could not use existing crutches, they said he’d never walk again… so, he designed and engineered a new form of crutches (still produced today) that eventually allowed him to walk again.  Doctors said he would never again hold a pen to sign his name, or a fork to feed himself… so, when a world-renown hand surgeon visited the hospital, the two of them chased him down with their proposition to take on “an interesting project.” Even 70 years later, doctors wondered at his re-constructed hands. He’d never have a job, they said… but he became the director of the local Red Cross, helping military families through all sorts of difficult situations. He was Jr. and Sr. Warden at his church many times over, was elected to his City Council, appointed to President Reagan’s advisory board on disability issues, and ultimately was chosen to receive his hometown’s highest service award. He truly was an inspiring, heroic man, and his influence changed many a life, over several generations.

          I know this to be true because I watched it and, at least in part, lived it. These were my parents. Their example was my earthly template for what it means to live out both the horizontal and vertical Law of Love Jesus speaks of today. Within the week of today’s gospel, He would pour out that Love - radically, selflessly - on the hard wood of the cross. Ultimately, Christ’s boundless Love of God Almighty, enacted in His self-emptying love for us … could only be delivered by Him through His death on a cross, on our behalf.

          It’s too much for us - this perfectly holy love …so, often, when we try to describe or reproduce it in some way, we speak in murky, spiritual terms, or repeat stories of the lives of saints or martyrs. Such lives can seem so unapproachably, divinely enabled. I connect better with a more humble model as guide for my flawed attempts at living the Laws of Love. That, my parents were!

          For, as exemplary as they were, they were just ordinary people. They became frustrated, impatient, or plain worn out with the pain and demands of Dad’s situation. They were as flawed as any of us; they were not saints - or martyrs - but … they surely were divinely enabled; I saw their quiet, kindly, day-by-day faithfulness, to each other, and to their providing, protecting Lord. They were deeply generous and compassionate people, who understood that they - especially - had received God’s Mercy and Provision, every day. They were deeply grateful to God for they had seen His work in their lives, so it came naturally - intuitively - to them to show that same mercy, forgiveness and compassion within and outside our family. Kindness and generosity were expected in our home, and Mom’s (often unobserved) care of all of us, day by day, under challenging circumstances, was just a step below sainthood! But, given our unique family demands, I believe I learned early some more challenging facets of the circular Law of Love Jesus speaks of today.

          So, here goes.  Lessons from “flawed saints”

…

          Mom began each morning with an intimate time with the Lord. I know there were times her prayers were awash with tears and uncertainty … but, somehow, I saw - on her face - that that time with Christ brought relief from stress, and comfort for the journey. Though we did not necessarily understand it, as little girls, we could see peace return to her face. So, a primary way they taught us to Love God … was to spend intentional time in His strengthening intimate presence… every day. I realized early (through her) that I could approach God directly, and personally.  

…

          Mom used to warn us: ”Daddy has no spare parts.” With so many physical issues, a simple fall could spell disaster. That came home to me one day when I had neglected to wipe up something I’d spilled on the floor. Daddy’s crutches slipped, he fell and, for several days, was in significant additional pain as a result. I felt terrible, but I learned a valuable lesson: genuine Love often involves simple, even unnoticed acts of care and thoughtfulness, and that, somehow, these unnoticed, unacknowledged acts of love are especially sweet and significant. In time, I came to sense God’s smiling Love …for me, even in something as mundane as wiping up a spill. Even small acts of Love can hold unimagined blessings!

…

          There were many things my father could never do again; but he always tried to his limit. It was agonizing to watch his determined struggle. My mother, in her great wisdom, patiently restrained herself from stepping in. She knew the importance of Dad’s self-respect, and he knew that he had done all he could to accomplish what lay before him … even if he failed. They showed us that the Law of Love sometimes involves self-discipline - and respect for the other’s dignity and self-esteem - to step back, and let the chips fall where they may. They taught us that there is value and purpose in a loved one’s struggle: When a problem is mastered, achievement is an invaluable encourager… And when best efforts fail, we were there as cheerleaders, to honor (with words and hugs) the character revealed in the effort.

          This loving restraint from “helping” was a really hard lesson. When Dad was struggling so hard, simply to stand on his damaged, paralyzed legs - sweat running down his face, and his twisted arms quivering under his efforts … Mom willed herself not to rush to his side, for to do so would have handicapped him in an entirely different - even more destructive - way. So, when in Dad’s presence, we saw her pray silent, fervent, anxious prayers, watching his ordeal… and when she could finally leave the room, she prayed pleading, aching, desperate prayers, alone with God in some hospital hallway. Christ surely divinely equipped her for those times. When Jesus encountered the invalid at the pool of Bethesda, He asks: “Do you want to get well?” And when the man whined about his situation, Jesus commands: “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk!” Christ also knew there are things we can only do for ourselves, and I learned - saw - that sometimes we love best, when we do least. And that can indeed be difficult and costly.   

          Dad had a pet phrase which I often heard, and more than once intentionally rejected: “The hardest choice is almost always the right choice.” And then, peering over his glasses, he would solemnly add “I know you’ll choose wisely.” Yea, well… sometimes I did, and sometimes I didn’t! The term “unconditional love” is casually thrown around in our culture. My sister and I always knew how dearly we were loved, and that we could always count on Mom and Dad, but…from what I saw between my parents, and especially experienced as their child, the Law of Love is actually something more subtle and more demanding than that cliche.

          I have no doubt that, had either of my parents been abusive to each other or to either of us, or had any of us used drugs or abused alcohol, they would have promptly set clear boundaries and held us accountable. Frankly, their lives were too complicated and demanding to accept such unhealthy, selfish or disobedient behavior. Our family was pretty much “maxed out” in the “life-issues” department! When Adam and Eve chose to disobediently eat the apple, they knew the choice they were making… and the consequences still play out in our “groaning” world. Only the horrible sacrifice of God’s own Son could restore the damage their disobedience had caused, and it was a bloody path back to God!

          As children, we knew what was expected of us. Mom and Dad were committed to guiding us through the challenges of “growth-full love” - for our benefit. As God-loving parents, they manifested the God-given courage to hold the line, set perimeters, and sometimes go through the discomfort of confrontation - or risk our outright rejection. Like Scripture’s countless examples of wayward Israelites, wicked kings, false prophets, and plotting Pharisees, my sister and I were rather willingly drawn toward selfishness, cutting corners for our own benefit, and wrestling with any authority. Sometimes Mom and Dad had to love us enough to insist upon deeper spiritual and moral maturity. And, when Dad told me “the hardest choice is almost always the right choice,” he was actually declaring his confidence in my judgement and character … even as he was setting an important standard of behavior. It was as if he were saying: “Don’t take the easy out; I know you’re better than that.”

          I learned so much from our rather odd family situation, and I would not be honest if I did not also confess that there were many years, especially as a teen and young adult, when I wasn’t sure I believed in a Loving God. I always knew there was a god… my parents had shown me that… but the realities of our family situation (and the sometimes demanding Love we learned) left me unconvinced that God was actually Good. I was angry with whatever kind of god … that would allow such pain and hardship for two such faithful, virtuous souls. I did a lot of rather aggressive “wrestling with God!”

          But, as an adult, I am certain that God was somehow in the midst of the whole thing. He used it all - flawed and damaged as we (and our situation) was.

          Looking back, I see that He used even my brittle, angry - bold shall we say - challenges, to cultivate a strangely comfortable - conversational - communication with Him. And along that odd, unsettled path, I came to experience - mercifully and tenderly - actual “unconditional love” - in precisely my broken places. I learned that (thanks be to our merciful Lord!) each of us … in our own “strange circumstances” … can become flawed saints… as we struggle to live out… to the best of our crippled ability … His Call toward that perfect, selfless Law of Love. God will use and bless both us and our attempts, in ways and times we could never imagine. When we choose - no, decide - to Love sacrificially (and that sacrifice can take many forms) … we will find that God has “divinely equipped” our efforts … to His Glory, and our eternal blessing. 

Thanks be to God! AMEN