Bad News and Good News

This Terri Schiavo thing has been ping-ponging around my head.

Heather asked the other night why the husband didn't just sign guardianship over to the parents. The easy answer to that (eliminating all money/romantic issues Mr. Schiavo may have) is that he honestly believes this is what Terri wants and feels the need to fight for it. Her parents need to fight for what they believe, too. So the whole thing becomes this tragic, uncertain tug-of-war that's captured the nation's imagination. Note to self: Figure out what you want and write a living will.

It's so sad to me that this woman's life and story have become politicized. It seems no-one can get a definitive picture -- medically, ethically, spiritually. All concerned have pieced together their own bully pulpit, pulling bits and pieces of fact, spinning interpretations like saucers on sticks to support their own agenda. Meanwhile, this woman starves (I'm not going to judge if it's merciful and right or demeaning and evil -- I think you've already got your own opinion on that), while those around her suffer.

For some reason, the whole mess calls to mind the election this past fall. I attend a school that's so conservative that it was deemed ideal for the Bush twins to visit. I wasn't in a crowd mood that day, so I left campus, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were greeted by shirtless guys with "BUSH" painted on their chests in red, white, and blue, as if the twins were our beloved baseball team returning from the World Series. From September until around December 1, the few Democratic students who weren't hiding under the carpet in their closets were vilified -- some even had their salvation called into question.

This hurt me. In my experience (and this is a gross oversimplification), the Christian Democrats I know are Democrats because they have hearts that long to see people's lives and our nation touched with God's compassion -- occasionally to a fault. But in their thirst for compassion, they remind me of Jesus. Most Christian Republicans I know are Republicans because they have hearts that are striving to see God's holiness manifest in themselves and the world -- occasionally to a fault. And in their hunger for holiness, they remind me of Jesus.

This past Holy Week, I saw a video that presented the horizontal bar of the cross as a symbol of God's loving arms reaching to surround the world in His embrace. These arms stretch out from a post pointing straight up, a concrete image of God's overwhelming and incorruptible holiness. This image rings true to me. In accepting the cross, Jesus fulfilled the demands of both holiness and compassion. He bound them inextricably together in the Mystery that encompasses His incarnation, death, and resurrection -- the same Mystery that invites and infuses His people even today.

So when I'm confronted with troubling news or questions of politics or the numerous dilemmas of life that seem to pull my heart toward one extreme or another, I have to remember that holiness and compassion are no longer mutually exclusive -- PRAISE GOD!!! I still don't think I ever get it truly right, but I'm trying to let those tensions drive me to Jesus, suspended at the center of the cross, radiant with holiness and overflowing with love. I want -- I NEED -- to cling to Him in times like this, to let Him teach me the tensions and the resolution, to depend utterly and completely on Him. Only then can holiness and compassion mingle into the selfsame thing -- sweetness and life -- the very Wine of God to quench my soul and satisfy the thirst of this parched universe.