I have been reading and enjoying David Stokes’ “Apparent Danger.”  It retells the story of Pastor J. Frank Norris, the 1920’s lightning rod pastor of First Baptist Church in Fort Worth.  I didn’t realize Fort Worth had such a national stage 90 years ago.

It is a story about the coming to power of a city, a pastor, some businessmen, a newspaperman, and some government officials. If you live or have lived in Fort Worth, you might recognize some of their names: Meacham, McClean, Amon Carter.  We see their names on our buildings and our little airport.

As these fellas worked their trades, some engaged in public denunciation of one another.  They seemed to be interested only in the advancement of their own prestige, and their lashings culminated in the murder of a lumber company owner.  What a bummer.

It is sad, really, that men acted that way.  I wonder how much of our current city problems are rooted in the words and decisions that these people meted out.  I wish that some of them had exhibited more character.  More than that, I am saddened that perhaps the worst offender in the group was Pastor Norris, the evangelical.

Let me say that some of these men did wonderful things, like supporting and developing hospitals, the YMCA, and schools and so on.  And we all must ask ourselves the question, “How would I have behaved if all that money and power were available to me?”  Unfortunately, it is the salacious stuff that makes for better reading, and sells books.

If we look at and ponder history, and we have an accurate view of human nature, it shouldn’t surprise us that the events in Fort Worth in the 1920’s took place.  To put it simply, we humans value our own peace, security, and affluence more that we value one another.  Getting to the heart of the matter, we worship ourselves, and we hate God.  It has been our story for millennia, and probably will always be.

That sure is a bummer.  It means we will keep on hurting each other.  It is why the garden events make so much sense.  “Choose for yourselves,” the Lord said (my paraphrase), “between life, and your own knowledge and enhancement.”  We chose the latter fruit, and bad things have been happening to us ever since.

But where is the meaning for those Fort Worth power people, or for us when we enter into the same activities, albeit on a smaller scale?  It is absent!  Those men, who revolved the world around themselves, are dead and gone.  None of their self-aggrandizing remains.

But let me say that there is a place where self-absorption leaves, and life begins to grow.  That is in hospice, where, for the dying humans, there is no prestige to build, or affluence to acquire.  There is only peace to be made with others and with the One.

Ironic, isn’t it.  The very thing we don’t want to talk about, death, brings real life to those around it.  There is real meaning here.

It is the story of the Nazarene, whose power not even gifted, amoral pastors, speaking “in Jesus,” can destroy.  That story is of a unique Man, born to literally save the world from itself, not by might, but through suffering, service and death.

I believe the Haiti earthquake occurred on January 12, 2010.  So we are approaching the 6 month mark.  From the Antioch Community Church reports, I know that the relief efforts have shifted from medical to rebuilding.

I had the privilege of being a relief worker one week after the earthquake.  I was part of a medical team that included two other doctors, a physician assistant, some nurses and a bunch wonderful non-medical folks who did the organizing and back-breaking work to pull-off a mission like that.

Overall, the trip was a blending of awfulness and intermittent expressions of goodness.  I learned quite a bit about the human spirit, about Haiti, and about disaster medical care.  Most importantly I learned that God doesn’t abandon those who are hurting:

• I saw teams of medical workers from all over the world.  Signs of relief aid were everywhere.
• I saw people who had lost close family members break into broad smiles after I patched up their injuries and prayed with them.
• I witnessed a miraculous coordination of resources that saved a 15-year old girl’s life.
• I saw several young men who found meaning and purpose after they joined our team as translators.  They are now in training as church planters.

From Habakkuk, a paraphrase: “Though there be no food in the fields, and the flock cut off from the fold, yet I will exult in the Lord.  He has made my feet like hinds feet, and He makes me walk on my high places.”

I have more stories about my experience posted at BrianinHaiti.blogspot.com.

Though here in America our systems are much better, there are still so many, even in our Tarrant County communities, who are hurting and suffering.  If you are reading this blog, you may be going through the difficulty of watching a loved slowly die.  Or maybe you recently lost a close family member.

Let me invite you to join us this Wednesday evening, July 7, for some wonderful food, and a group discussion on losing a loved one.  Chaplain Mike Shreve will coordinate the meeting.   You can reach him at mshreve@texashospice.com, or 817-263-8808 to rsvp.

We will meet from 6-8 PM at the Culinary School of Fort Worth on Camp Bowie Blvd.  Don’t miss a chance to get the help from people who are co-sufferers, and from two chaplains whose hearts are with you.