"Christ, can you make sense of all I saw?"

Yesterday, our HNGR class led the 40-minute chapel service for the Wheaton faculty and student body. Planning was pretty overwhelming at times- how do you explain six months in 40 minutes, how do you combine twenty five separate stories into one cohesive presentation, how do you communicate meaningfully with 2,400 people? But I'm really happy and thankful with how it came out. There really are an infinite number of ways HNGR chapel could be done, and every year's class has focused on some different elements. One main goal we had was to try and communicate "tension": how do we accurately recognize and mourn deep suffering, acknowledging that there ARE no easy answers or pat comforts, within the context of deep belief in an all-loving and merciful God?

Two of my sweet housemates, Sarah and Kendall, wrote this dialogue that they presented near the end of the service. I think they did a beautiful job of communicating the cries of so many of our hearts over what we saw (they were working in a children's hospital in Uganda and with genocide victims in Rwanda, respectively), as well as reminders of who Christ is and what He did. In moments over the last few months/year when I am overwhelmed and exhausted and confused by the reality of sin and horrificness, thinking about the fact that Christ ENTERED THIS, and OVERCAME THIS, has meant more than it ever has.

Hope it is meaningful for any of you, too.

...I wasn’t there when Gilbert’s father tried to burn him and his three siblings in their house. I was there the morning after they arrived at the hospital, people crowded around pointing and staring, their blistered skinless bodies, the smell of burnt flesh.

Lord, did you see that too?

I was there to see these children whimpering in pain, slowly dying, the nurses more concerned with the daily gossip than the children’s immediate need for IV lines.

Lord, have mercy on us.

But I was there to bring soda and bread to their mother, the one with the tortured and ashamed look on her face.

Lord, help us to know how to act.

I was there to see her dip small pieces of bread in to the soda so she could squeeze it into Gilbert’s mouth. I saw him slowly begin to heal. He smiled. He would respond to my touch. Then the next week, he sat up. I saw his siblings die, but Gilbert has another a chance at life.

What do we do? With the weight of the reality of both scarcity and abundance, despair and hope, death and life.

I saw those all in the hospital.

We realize that this is the human experience. We cannot avoid it, but we should not be afraid of it. For this is also the story of Christ, who lived fully as man, who lived the full spectrum of our human experience.

Christ, can you make sense of all I saw?

Your love was such that you became one of us, you didn’t leave us in our death, you didn’t leave us in our despair, you didn’t leave us alone. You didn’t leave us. You became one of us, you cried with us, you thirst with us, you hungered with us, you wept in front of the grave. You submitted yourself to our condition, you suffered, you died, and rose again. You gave us hope because in your new life, we find life. Behold, Christ is making all things new and we are called to participate . . . this is our story.

I want to believe this is true, but sometimes it is hard. I get confused, overwhelmed. I can forget our story. I can forget my role. I can forget how it ends.

We believe together. We mourn together and rejoice together, valuing both in their season. We remind each other of our story, we remind each other that we are called and being used by God, we remind each other that Christ has the final victory and one day every tear will be wiped away.

How do we live this?

We come together as one body. We remember our defining and unifying story: Christ died, Christ is risen and Christ will come again. We gather together at the table and are nourished by the body and blood of Christ. We come before God in prayer.

What do we say?

We pray as Christ taught us to, coming before God in this tension, as believers have for centuries.

Please join us in saying the Lord’s prayer...