Trying to answer "Why?"

Something that stayed with me during Clinical Pastoral Education was Jesus' words during the Eucharist. "This is my body, broken for you..." These words spoken in the Eucharist took on an entirely different meaning in the halls of Stanford Hospitals and Clinics. I visited incredibly sick patients. Some patients had an incredibly strong connection to their faith tradition. They would speak of the Divine coming into their lives, particularly at times of great need. I would meet with other patients that would ask, "Why is God doing this to me?" It was that last question, of "Why God, why?" that I had the hardest time addressing.

I was asked "Why is this happening?" by one of my mentors this week. "Why is this happening? How could this happen?" A professor that challenged me during my time at Clemson became extremely ill. She entered the hospital at the beginning of January. She was removed from her respirator and passed away today.

This professor challenged me, at times tested me, but genuinely cared about her students and served as a mentor. While this professor and I didn't have an easy relationship, she genuinely cared about my work and my progress. When I left the Professional Communication program in 2006, I told this professor that I needed to reanalyze my priorities, and that my graduate education needed to be postponed. She sent me an understanding yet encouraging message, acknowledging that life happens and my master's thesis could no longer be the priority. She also encouraged me to keep my options open. She also said, "Keep in touch."

I kept my options open. I kept them so open, I found myself attending seminary. But I failed at the last part. I did not keep in touch. I told myself that part of my life was over and I needed to start over. Part of starting over was to let go, and sadly, cut contact with friends and mentors from my Professional Communication program. But for some odd reason, I kept that last email that continued to encourage me, no matter what my path.

This professor, who encouraged me in spite of myself, was a mentor to so many. And I come back to the words I struggled with during my chaplaincy internship. "Why did this happen?" I don't know why. Why did this professor pass away at such a young age? Why did she leave behind a loving husband, a young daughter, so many students, a brilliant career...? Part of me can theologize some weak explanation, but ultimately, I don't know the answer to the question. But I continue to return to "This is my body, broken for you..." God's son, broken on a cross. But not broken without reason. God's son was broken on a cross so that we may live life eternal.

Every moment is precious. Every relationship is precious. These are gifts from God which we are to treasure.