A meeting with the Consultant on Thursday and it appears things are going in the right direction. The ‘bad stuff’ in the blood has gone down but not far enough for me to go forward for the stem cell transplant. So another cycle of chemotherapy is required which will begin on Tuesday. I was prepared for this but you can’t help having that sinking feeling when you think of more chemo. The word ‘contentment’ is never far from my mind at present, in particular the apostle Paul’s vision of contentment:
‘ . . . I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’ (Philippians 4: 11-13)
Contentment is possible when we look to our God for the strength that only He can give.
Recently I came across a book that I probably haven’t opened in over thirty years. It’s called Cancer And The God Of Love written by Melvyn Thompson who was Chaplain to the Royal Marsden Hospital in London. I think it’s fair to say that there is more psychology in the book than theology but it is interesting to see how Thompson has sought to support cancer patients in his ministry and particularly what he perceived to be their immediate needs. But it’s that title that set my mind working. There are two things there: on the one hand cancer, on the other, the God of love. How do we hold them both together? It’s not easy. And not just with cancer in mind. Think of all the other shadows that fall on human experience.
So where am I today in relation to what is probably the most challenging question for Christian theology? Thompson’s book was first published in 1976. I reckon I bought is a couple of years later when I was just beginning my studies for the ministry, eager to be a help to people in trouble and to have answers to the big questions. The thing is, it didn’t matter how much I read through the years or how much I listened to people who were going through the cancer experience, I didn’t know what it was like to have cancer. Until now. Part of me wishes that it might have come earlier so that I might have had a better understanding and better able to respond appropriately to cancer sufferers. You could say that it’s not strictly necessary to have the experience in order to be a pastor to those in need. But you can’t help the thoughts that cross your mind.
I doubt that Jesus suffered all the pains and sickness that we are prone to but His sufferings are set before us in Scripture as an assurance that He understands our weakness and is able to give us exactly the right kind of help. And it’s there that we find the connection between cancer and the God of love. We are coming near the Season when in the midst of glitter and Santa and reindeer Christians will be seeking some space to reflect on the Incarnation, literally the Enfleshment of God, His coming completely into human experience. What prompted this monumental event was His love for humanity. This was the ultimate assurance that He is with us in every experience, good or bad, light or dark, up or down. One of the names given to the Messiah by the Hebrew people was ‘Emmanuel’ which translated means ‘God With Us’. And in the mindset of Paul there is no experience dark enough or painful enough to separate us from His love. Not even cancer. (Romans 8: 37-39)
I am aware that none of this will ever convince everyone. Melvyn Thompson writes:
‘If this balancing of good and evil is a struggle for a person who has settled beliefs before encountering suffering, then the chances of one who has no such beliefs accepting them in the midst of such a dilemma become remote. If a person appears to have no faith when good comes his way, suffering will scarcely give it to him’.
He is right to raise this. Even those of us with faith struggle with the balance but the story of Jesus gives us the means to face the reality of suffering in our lives and not to be overwhelmed. Thompson quotes James Martin in his book Suffering Man, Loving God:
‘The real problem of suffering is not the why but the how of it, not the finding of a satisfactory explanation but the finding of the means to meet it without being crushed.’
I believe that in Christ we have that means. We have the promise of His presence in every circumstance; the promise that His love is working in every experience; the promise that His purpose for our lives is never derailed by our pain; the promise that in the coming Kingdom what we see as puzzling reflections in a mirror will be made clear.
