This past year I've gone back to donating blood platelets at Dana Farber. I took time off when I didn't have the time while taking care of my daughter. It feels really great to be back doing it, especially at Dana Farber. They have an excellent combination of professionalism and personal touch that makes donations a pleasure. So, first and foremost, this blog is an advertisement, an earnest plea, to donate blood, and if possible, donate platelets. If you are around Boston Contact the Kraft Family Donor Center at Dana Farber Cancer Institute.
I must admit that I felt guilty early on, taking time to do this when there are so many things that need taking care of. Even though I preach the need for sabbath for all, self-care and taking sabbath can be a very hard thing for pastors. For the most part, I justify the time it takes to myself by bringing a boat-load of professional reading to do. Over the hour and a half of donating, I've whizzed through plenty of material and actually got a lot out of it. It is tough to just sit down in the office and even read, but there it is.
Last donation was even better. My technician, who found out I was a pastor, asked me some questions that seemed to be lurking in the back of his head. I have a lot of fun talking to people with these questions. They develop into great times of sharing. I spent the next 45 minutes talking about matters of faith and other questions lots of people wonder about pastors, like, how do I go about constructing a sermon? Where do I get the ideas? What did I think about "The Passion of the Christ"?
The person next to me then heard the conversation and talked to me herself. She was an Episcoplean and we shared stories, too. The lady across the aisle was Jewish and regretted her donation time was through, she enjoyed listening to the conversation.
A lot a grace-filled conversation can happen in a room with reclining beds, machines that beep, tubes, vials and bandages. It was a real privilege.
They say that donating blood saves lives, and when you are doing it, you really don't get a sense that you are saving a life. I'm certainly not pulling a drowning boy out of a lake. As I finish, and look at the plastic bag of my platelets up there, I have no idea where they are going - who is going to receive them. I sometimes imagine how amazing it is that something that was inside me is now going to be inside someone else, helping them heal.
Although we didn't seem to mind talking about "The Passion of the Christ" in a blood donation center, I think there is some sort of connection. Sometimes when I donate, I do think of Jesus shedding his blood.
There are some pretty stark differences: Jesus' blood spilled on the ground as a result of the violence and brutality of the religious and political leaders who put him to death in such a cruel way. His blood was shed for the forgiveness of sins. It was the ultimate and singular act of forgiveness that cannot be matched or repeated. Our blood gets "shed" in the most comfortable and clean conditions, with machines that take out the platelets and give the rest back. It is done by caring, compassionate competent staff.
But the blood we shed does save lives. As a man, Jesus never personally knew the billions of people his blood was shed for (although he knows each one now). Unless the donor specifically donates for a friend or family member, we don't know who our blood goes to. It is just a person in need. In some ways, this is an anonymous act of love on the donor's part, and since it is anonymous, I think there is something special about this love.
I am so grateful for my parishioner who got me back to giving platelets. It is a quiet thing, but it matters.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment