How Patients Harvest the Fruit of the Spirit

I’ve been participating in a class with my church, Spruce Hills Community Church, that we’ve simply titled Biblical Foundations.  In this class, we talk about the fundamentals to which all Christians should prescribe, using a resource called “The Purple Book.”  We were doing a lesson from Chapter 2, called “Lordship and Obedience,” in which one of the questions was “How can we tell who is a real follower of Jesus and who is not?”

The verse attached to this question was Matthew 7:16-18, which reads

“By their fruit you will recognize them.  Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?  Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit.  A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit.”

So our discussion centered around what the definition of ‘good fruit’ was.  We had a number of interesting answers, but there were two that really jumped out at me.  The first was that “fruit” referred to actions, much in line with what the bible says in James 2:14-17:

What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds?  Can such a faith save him?  Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food.  If one of you says to him “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?  In the same way, faith by itself, if not accompanied by actions, is dead.

The second reference that came out of our discussions was my own answer, which comes from Paul’s letter to the Galatians:

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22, NIV)

With this verse I was compelled to share my experiences thus far in my residency (which I might add has only been 2 weeks) that I felt being a follower of Jesus has benefitted my patients in terms of their care.

An Alcoholic, or a Person who needs Jesus?

Admittedly, an individual can be both of these things at once.  The question is, as a doctor, which of these will I decide to focus on? 

I’ve been working since the start of my residency in the emergency rooms of the two local hospitals.  While they both get their share of people with substance abuse issues, one of them is located much closer to the downtown area of the city, which lends itself to a greater proportion of patients whose chief complaint is often listed as “ETOH” “Intoxication” or “IVDU.”  Etoh is medical shorthand for ethanol (alcohol), and IVDU is Intravenous Drug Use.  Then there are the patients that come to the ER from the penitentiary, almost always with a chief complaint of “chest pain.”  Then there are the patients that the ER staff refers to as “frequent flyers,” which means the person generally has multiple visits in a month, quite often more than one visit, between both hospitals, in a week. 

These patients wear down on the doctors, nurses and health care professionals that work in the ER.  Which is unfortunate, because from a social, psychological and spiritual point of view, they need us to be there for them more than the patient with a straightforward medical issue.  I find it challenging to see the level of “jadedness” among healthcare workers towards these various populations, and even more difficult is the fact that it is generally accepted as an inevitable change in your outlook as you work in an emergency room setting. 

So it has been that with the help of God, I have stood firm against the onslaught of jadedness.  So far, at least.  And I realize that the most obvious criticism against this statement is that it’s only been 2 weeks.  But I can feel a difference inside of me.  I can feel the presence of the fruit of the spirit, deep within me, like a great oak with roots that extend deep into my consciousness.  Sure, I’ve already had times that I’ve been irritated with patients for being “poor historians,” which just means I can’t get them to answer the questions I’m asking in a way that makes sense to me.  I had one patient in particular whose main complaint was “feeling unwell.”  Then she told me that she had passed out and was unconscious for six hours, and had passed out at about 3:20 in the afternoon.  I was interviewing her at 7:30.  She answered most of my questions with “I don’t know.” She complained about anything and everything, none of which seemed connected, and I felt myself getting frustrated.  Then I reminded myself that God loves both of us equally.  In human eyes, I’m the doctor, she is the alcoholic frequent flyer, but in God’s eyes I’m no better than she is.  Both of us are sinners, both of us need God’s grace in order to get anywhere in life.  And just like that love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control flow over me and out of me.  Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I admitted the patient to the hospital for an upper GI bleed.  That’s God working through me, because I could never have deciphered her complaints on my own.

A very similar story for a man from the penitentiary who was born the same year that I was.  It almost brought tears to my eyes to see this young man, who had been born full of potential, describing to me how he had lost his prescription medication in his jacket when the police had chased him down.  His last IV drug use was less than a week ago.  Now he was in the ER with chest pain.  It’s a complaint that inmates sometimes use just to get out of the penitentiary for a little while.  A stereotypical complaint from a stereotyped individual. I have to say though, the whole trick of reminding myself that we are equals in God’s eyes tends to work wonders.  I listened to his story, brought out the characteristics of the pain, what made it better, what made it worse, examined him thoroughly (even did an ultrasound of his heart), and came up with a diagnosis.  Pericarditis, which is an inflammation of the lining that surrounds the heart.  Another admission to hospital for a stereotypical complaint from a stereotyped individual.  And he thanked me for listening.  The only thing I wish I could have done more for the guy was given him a copy of the Gospel of John.

Sending Home the Intoxicated Patient

One of the things I’ve learned in my short time in the ER is that there have been no studies done regarding the discharge of intoxicated patients from the emergency room.  It’s not something drug companies can make money from, so they don’t fund the studies.  So as a doctor, I have no evidence based guidelines that tell me if it’s alright to send home a patient with a blood alcohol level of 59.8 (17 is the legal limit), or if I should keep the patient in the ER to let them sober up first.  If the person is having complications (such as seizures or a clinical entity known as Delirium Tremens aka DTs) as a result of their intoxication, that’s an easy decision, usually involving an admission to medicine.  One of the doctors I worked with suggested that the patient has to be able to walk sensibly in order to be discharged home.  Otherwise, they get a work up congruent with the reason they presented to the ER, then they get sent home.  No such thing as “sleeping it off” in a busy emergency room.

As I write this, the hamster wheel of my mind is turning, and I’m thinking that this would be a wonderful way for Christians to donate their money and make a difference.  If pharmaceutical companies won’t fund a study that clearly there is a need for, in a population that needs Jesus in a way that some of us may never experience, then maybe we should do it ourselves.  This would be an amazing way of helping God’s downcast and needy, by finding out if there is a difference in outcomes depending on whether you send a drunk person home, or keep an eye on him in the ER.  At the moment, we really don’t have an answer to that question.

We Should Tear Our Robes

In 2 Kings 5:1-7, the bible tells a story of a man with leprosy looking for healing:

“Now Naaman was commander of the army of the king of Aram. He was a great man in the sight of his master and highly regarded, because through him the Lord had given victory to Aram. He was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy.  Now bands from Aram had gone out and had taken captive a young girl from Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”

Naaman went to his master and told him what the girl from Israel had said. “By all means, go,” the king of Aram replied. “I will send a letter to the king of Israel.” So Naaman left, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold and ten sets of clothing. The letter that he took to the king of Israel read: “With this letter I am sending my servant Naaman to you so that you may cure him of his leprosy.”

As soon as the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his robes and said, “Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? Why does this fellow send someone to me to be cured of his leprosy? See how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me!””

In one of his sermons, titled “Reconciliation,” Timothy Keller talks about this passage in the following way:

“The king of Israel is saying: “I’m a king, there’s a lot of things I can do, but the deepest needs that you have can only be met in God. Do not come to me for what only God can do. Do not ask me to do what only God can do.” Culturally, every therapist, every politician, every doctor, every teacher, every minister, we’re trying help people.  And we write our books, and we say we have the program, we have the theory, we have the way.  Every one of us, at some point, ought to be saying, “Look, we can help you somewhat, because all human problems have psychological, sociological, educational, physical, emotional components.  But at some point we need to tear our clothes and say ‘Don’t look to us for what only God can do.’” Ultimately, your deepest needs can only be met, and your deepest problems can only be solved in God.”    

Every healthcare worker available, all doctors, nurses and support staff cannot be the ones that patients look to for healing.  Alcoholism, substance use, dependence and abuse can only be solved with the help of God.  As a result, our secular society has hamstrung medicine by attempting to remove God from the equation.

There is a phrase that is sometimes heard in medicine that goes something like this:

“There is nothing more we can do for you.”

I’m planning on never using that phrase.  It’s true, there will come a time that the treatments available to a patient will no longer prevent the patient from starting on a downward spiral in terms of their health.  Modern day medicine cannot prevent death, or bring the dead back among the living.  But there is always something more we can do for our patients. 

Every shift I’ve worked so far, I try to find time to pray for each person who comes through the hospital doors to see the new doctor in the emergency room.  I’ve already seen patients live who seem to have survived against all odds, like people with large blood clots in both lungs, and I’ve seen people die whom I thought should have lived, like a man who showed up with “fatigue” but refused admission to hospital for further investigation and died two days later.  So remember, it is always up to God, and so if you ever become a patient, remember to pray.  God is the only hope you have for the solution to your deepest problems and to meet your deepest needs.

For myself, I pray that God will continue to bless me with the fruit of the Spirit, so that my patients may harvest the benefits of having a doctor that knows in his heart that his patients need God above all else.