"A Bruised Reed He Shall not Break"

Who was I to blog about peace?  All the peace that I sought seemed to disappear on Friday as I learned that a good friend of mine (my first college voice teacher, an important mentor, and an all around inspiration) had a terrible car accident between Green Bay and Milwaukee and is now lying unconscious and on a breathing machine at the hospital.  "The whole world was at peace"?  Certainly not here, not in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  This situation has haunted me this weekend as I struggled to go about my business.  "And what about my blog post?  How can I think of anything else?", I thought.  Thus, I've decided to share with you honestly my journey this weekend, hoping that it will be of some help to you and me.

Upon hearing the news on Friday, I asked my parents to pray with me and then I prayed with my boyfriend.  My contributions both times were not very elegant -- I'm not so good at praying extemporaneously with others -- but I needed to do something, anything.  Eventually, I had to sleep -- the general busyness of the week and the emotions of the moment caught up with me and left me drained.Yesterday, I turned to the readings for today for inspiration.  One of the advantages of being a member of both the MCC and Catholic churches is that I often get two sets of readings for Sunday.  Today's first reading in the Revised Common Lectionary is Isaiah 43:1-7.  Verse 5 jumped out at me:

Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine. (The Inclusive Bible)

This reading is obviously what David Haas used as a basis of "You Are Mine."  Here's the chorus:

Do not be afraid, I am with youI have called you each by nameCome and follow MeI will bring you homeI love you and you are mine

Being a church choir nerd, I must have sung this a million times, many of those being funerals.  Thus, the song filled me with a mix of emotions.  It's beautiful music.  And yet we often sing it when someone passes away.  It speaks of bringing someone home.  "Oh dear Lord, are you going to bring my friend home?"

At Mass at my Catholic parish this morning, Fr. Tim unlocked for me the power in the first reading in the Roman Catholic lectionary.  In this reading, a chapter earlier in Isaiah, we find:

A bruised reed he will not break (42:3, NAB)

Fr. Tim used the image of a broken stem on a poinsettia, which instead of being chopped off and thrown out, is propped up with a stick and given the best chance at healing.  So my friend is lying in the hospital incredibly broken, and God, through the ministry of the doctors and nurses, is doing everything possible to heal this "bruised reed."  Wow.

I don't know what happens next, but it won't be easy.  I've learned not to ask why; I still need to learn how to deal with the feeling of powerlessness.  I'm grateful for my virtual and physical communities that are willing to set aside religious differences and come together in prayer.