Hi,
Thanks to all of you who wrote back to congratulate us! Last weekend,
Melissa and I were in New York City. We had a good time going out to eat
with my parents, our two friends from Singapore, Audra & Susylia (both of
whom happen to be in NYC for business), and my high school classmates Tai,
Judy and their adorable baby daughter Caroline.
Melissa and I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then we had dinner
with Tai, Judy and Caroline at a very good Japanese restaurant, Sachi. It
is right across from our high school, Hunter College High School, on
Madison Ave, between 94th & 95th. Baby Caroline was so cute! Here are
some pictures.
Tai Judy Caroline
http://cards.webshots.com/cp-26548105-zneY-album/39643337NrkXUfOn Sunday, we met up with our friends Audra & Susylia. We visited Redeemer
Presbyterian Church, and then had lunch in Chinatown. Here are some
pictures.
Audra & Susylia
http://cards.webshots.com/cp-26548105-zneY-album/39647288nDwolBThis week's thought provoking question: "If you could be master chef in any
restaurant in the world, where would you choose to cook?"
This week's humor and inspirational pieces were forwarded from Jennifer
Deniega and Monica Quock.
Enjoy!
-Josh.
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New Pastor In Town
A new pastor moved into a town, and he went out one day to visit his
parishioners. All went well until he came upon this one house. It was
obvious that someone was home, but no one came to the door even after he
had knocked several times. Finally he took out his card, wrote on the back
"Revelation 3:20" and stuck it on the back of the door.
Revelation 3:20: "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear
my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will dine with him,
and he with me."
Later in the week, as he was counting the offering, he found his card in
the collection plate. Below his message was the notation "Genesis 3:10."
Genesis 3:10: "And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was
afraid, because I was naked: so I hid myself."
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>From the official journal of the North American Society of Pacing And
Clinical Electrophysiology (PACE, Vol. 23, 9/00 pp.1431-2).
A Jewish physician ponders a strange encounter he had.
MUSINGS
The Accident
It was, after all, a mistake. It had been one of the worst nights of my
residency. There had been so many admissions that I had virtually lost
count, and I barely was able to keep up with the needs of my own patients,
much less all the other ones I was cross covering. I was desperately
rushing to finish checking labs and ordering tests before hurrying off to
morning report. Later that day I was struggling to fight back fatigue and
finish attending rounds when I received a page to report to Radiology
immediately.
"Oh great," I thought. "Now what's wrong?" However, upon my arrival I was
the sudden focus of congratulations and pats on the back.
"Great pick up!" they said. "Look at that," one of the radiologists said,
pointing to films from an upper
GI series hanging on the viewbox.
"A small bowel tumor, classic appearance!" I stood there dumbfounded. I
had no idea what they were talking about. I picked up the chart and leafed
through it. Yes, I had ordered the upper GI, but it wasn't my patient.
Then I realized what had happened. In my haste to keep up with everything
the prior evening I had ordered an upper GI on the wrong patient!
Looking closer at the chart I learned that the patient was a priest and
director of a local Catholic college. He had been complaining of cough and
fever, as well as nonspecific malaise and therefore (as was common in those
bygone days) was admitted to the hospital for an evaluation. The upper GI
showed a leiomyosarcoma of the bowel that luckily had not spread and he was
operated on the next day. The surgeon paged me to the operating room to
show me saying, "You really saved this guy's butt. I've never caught one
of these this early before." I was too embarrassed to say anything, so I
nodded my head politely and walked out. I didn't tell a soul what had
happened.
The hectic pace of residency quickly resumed and the incident was soon
forgotten. About a week later I was paged to the surgical floor. When I
returned the call, one of the nurses informed me that one of the patients
wanted to speak to me. I told her that I didn't have any patients there.
She replied, "It's a priest, and he's quite insistent on speaking with
you." I froze and felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
In a near trance-like state I slowly made my way to his room. As I entered
I had a sudden urge to throw myself at his feet while saying "Forgive me,
Father, for I have sinned," but instead I quietly introduced myself and
took a seat by his bed. A distinguished looking man in his late fifties,
his piercing eyes seemed to stare directly into my soul.
"Were you the one who ordered the test on me?" I nodded my head and said
nothing.
"Why?" he asked.
"It was...an accident," I stammered. I told him everything, the words
almost pouring out of me, a relief to finally tell someone. He appeared
pale and said nothing for a long time, the two of us sitting in utter
silence. After a while he finally spoke.
"The last several months have been something of a spiritual crisis for me.
I had begun to question how I had spent my life, and the very core of my
beliefs. I was offered a new and important position, but I didn't feel
capable or worthy of it. Then, I began to feel ill and I was going to turn
the offer down." He paused. "Since the surgery my symptoms seem to have
disappeared. I now know what I should do. You see, my son, I believe there
are no accidents. When they came to take me for the test I knew that
something was amiss, yet at the very same time I felt deeply that I had to
go."
He seemed to sit more erect in bed and his voice gathered force. "The day
before I had prayed for some sort of sign to guide me, and now I understand
that you were chosen to be its instrument." As he spoke I felt the hairs
on the back of my neck rise and a strange sensation came over me.
The noted theologian Rudolf Otto used the term "numinous" to describe such
events (R. Otto, 1969). To him numinosity described the feeling that
somehow we are undeniably, irresistibly, and unforgettably in the presence
of the Divine. It is our experience, even for a moment, of something that
transcends our human limitations. C.G. Jung called such events
"synchronistic," defining it as a coincidence that holds a subjective
meaning for the person involved (C.G. Jung, 1960). However, like all
subjective experiences, what one person may find as meaningful or
significant another might see as meaningless or due to chance (R.H. Hopcke,
1997).
I sat there stunned, not knowing what to say or think. The priest smiled.
"Such talk troubles you, doesn't it?" he said. I told him of my own inner
struggles trying to reconcile reason and faith in the context of my own
religious tradition. "Ah," he replied, "one of your people grappled with
such questions long ago. I will introduce you to him."
My beeper summoned me. As I rose to leave, he asked that I wait for a
moment and sit on his bed. He placed his hand upon my head and said, "I
offer you my thanks in the words your people once taught us. 'May the Lord
bless you and keep you, may His face shine upon you and be gracious unto
you, may He lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace...' "
Several months later I was called to the hospital's mailroom to sign for a
package that had just arrived for me from Europe. I was shocked to see
that it had come from the Vatican. Opening it I found it was from the same
priest, except instead of father his title was now monsignor (a "knight" of
the church) and a special assistant to the pope! Inside was a short note
that said, "As you once helped me through my spiritual turmoil, may this
aid you through yours." Enclosed was a beautiful bound English translation
of the great physician/philosopher Moses Maimonides' monumental work on the
struggle between faith and reason, The Guide to the Perplexed (complete
with commentaries). I walked to the small patient garden next to the
hospital entrance, sat, and heard the soft songs of the birds and caught
the smell of the spring blossoms in the clean air.
I sat holding the book and was lost in thought for a long time. It was,
after all, just a mistake... wasn't it?"
~~~
Hopcke, R. H. There Are No Accidents: Synchronicity and the Stories of Our
Lives, New York, Riverhead Books, 1997.
Jung, C. G. "Synchronicity: An acausal connecting principle." The Collected
Works of C.G. Jung, Vol. 8. Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press,
1960.
Otto, R. The Idea of the Holy. London, Oxford University Press, 1969.
