There Are Some Things You Can't Take Pictures Of...

Have you ever seen a man who had been tortured? Back in October a man came here to the BMC after suffering from a stroke. He was diagnosed and sent home because there is not a whole that they could do for him here. He returned a few days ago with horrible infections all over his legs and scrotum, a very scared, damaged look in his eyes, and necrotizing fasciitis (flesh eating disease caused by infection with a few different bacteria). Over the last few months the man had been treated by a local "healer" trying to restore function to his wasting limbs as a result of the stroke. The "treatment" for paralysis is lots of small cuts and boiling water. There is a sick system of darkness and tradition that binds some of the villagers here to seek traditional medicine that I have yet to hear anything good about. The debridement for this man's infection (cleaning out the dead tissue) was one of the most difficult things I have been through in my brief yet decently exposed medical career. I held his legs as he writhed in pain, groaning in a way that is felt more than it is heard. The pain and injustice of the world was glaring me in the face and it was not pretty. We went back later to visit him and other patients in similar situations, just to hold their hands, say the few words that I know in Mampruli, and fan flies away. This man had a tear come down his face as we spoke with him. I don't know if it was because of the pain or if he was just satisfied to be treated like a human being.
I can not help but think that the groanings of this man was what Paul had in mind when he wrote that "all creation groans awaiting the day of redemption." Does our sin break the heart of God the way that mine was broken? Are our attempts at righteousness as absurd and frustrating to God as this local healer's methods? The suffering here is a living metaphor for the revolting nature of my own sin.
Is it possible that beneath our facade of what we think is skin there is actually death and decay? Are there things that we can hide from the world but really they are dying underneath? The call to discipleship is a call to come and die, to admit the death that is occuring and ask God to clean out the dying tissue and replace it with life. In our suffering and pain God is holding our legs and breaking His heart, I can see how those coincide more clearly now. Today as I pondered the audacity of our American book titles I felt very strongly the question, "You want your best life now?-Then come and die." That is the answer Jesus gives. It is not a call to destitution and poverty, we miss the point and somehow neuter the Gospel when we make it simply about money. The call to discipleship is a call to follow Christ, to ask the serious questions- What oppression am I apart of, Do I love enough, Do I hear the cry of those in pain? The call to Christ is not a call to Africa, it is a call to transformation of mind and regenerated sense of purpose. I hate that I had to see this man suffer in order for me to see that in a new light.