In the soul...

I recently officiated a wedding for dear friends, and they unloaded the most beautiful and strong vows I've ever heard in a wedding.

The groom shared a story about giving away the key to his heart to the Bride. The metaphor really struck me the way he said it:

"a man’s soul is like a building full of rooms. And that through his life he fills those rooms with everything that makes him who he is. Some of the rooms he lets anyone into, He shows them around and shares that part of his soul with them. Other rooms are more private, and are only shown to the few people he is closest to. And some rooms he never shares with anyone. Rooms with secrets and truths so private, that the door is permanently locked." 

This metaphor holds up over, and it beautiful. The messy part is of course that there are some rooms that no one wants to go into. Dangerous and scary rooms. Rooms where we store the stuff no one wants. I'm not even talking about misbehavin': The other day I was in the hospital and Bob the Eucharistic Minister walked by. I shouted a greeting and asked how he was doing. He shared with me about his sense of self care and that he was feeling good when he was able to work out every day.

He elaborated, and told me something profound: "When you visit with people who are in pain and who are suffering, you carry that in your soul, and you need to care for yourself."

And so, mashing these two metaphors together, there is a room in your soul for suffering. Some people have filled up the room, and there's nowhere to even sit down. Some people have rarely even walked through their barren room for suffering. The point is, everyone has a room for suffering and needs to go to it, and we no only carry the suffering of our own in the room, but the suffering of others, and in order to share suffering, someone must open the door of suffering to you.

It is a room to room transfer, and there is a sense of mutuality and vulnerability in the transfer. When spouses suffer, the transfer is almost instant. When family and friends suffer, so do we. The Apostle Paul instructs the church in Rome to "Mourn with those who mourn" and in this sense, share suffering. The Church ought to behave like a family.

The quest of the pastoral companion and fellow traveler is to know when and where to extend this bridge of vulnerability into the room of suffering. We are meant to seek one another out in this way. And we need to watch over our own rooms, our own soul, in order tomake sure there is always room for the suffering of others, as well as our own.