Someone was talking on the projector screen in class today. A guest. As I listened to him, my eyes danced around the thin page of my Bible on the table in front of me. I was in Romans 5. My eye caught this part right here where it says, “while we were still sinners.” So I underlined it. I’ve heard this a million times.

The guy on the screen talked about his work as a hospital chaplain in NYC this past summer. He described the suffering he saw around him. “while we were still weak” I read on the page. I felt a mourning for all those people there in New York. “while we were enemies,” my Bible still in front of me. I set my green pen to the words.

He continued sharing. This time he spoke lovingly about the people he has met on their deathbeds. He holds a hand. An embrace with a loved one. His presence is there when no one else can be. He talked about the importance of physicality.

He read some of his poems. I felt the suffering the dead must have endured. Of the families now. I felt anger and sadness. “Christ died for the ungodly.” I did not feel comfort.

I kept listening and I kept looking at the passage. Then he said something about pouring. At this point I don’t remember what he said. My eyes stopped moving about the page. I took out my orange pen. “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.”

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