**Shock Treatment**

**Shock Treatment**

Rev. Jerry J. Pokorsky

We know about the manic behavior of mass hysteria that disperses our attention. But psychological shock is another phenomenon that, to some extent, focuses our attention.

Years ago, I attended a University of Nebraska football game with some priest friends. Nebraska was playing Penn State, and Joe Paterno was walking the sidelines, barking orders to his players. The game was exciting. The decibel levels of the cheers were, I think, the highest I have ever experienced. But at the end of the game, all the excitement came to an abrupt end.

Nebraska had the edge with ten seconds to go, and Penn State had the ball. The quarterback tossed the ball for a touchdown win as time ran out. The huge crowd was in shock, and all one could hear was the shuffle of the feet. In contrast to the excitement only moments before, the stunned silence was surreal and instructive. Nobody could deny the reality and pain of defeat.

To save lives, sometimes hearts need to be shocked. When working Arlington Hospital back in the 90s, I remember hearing “Code Blue” alerts. Doctors and nurses would scurry to a bedside, often administering CPR and shocking the heart of a patient in danger of death. It works. Somehow, through the wizardry of modern science, the heart can be shocked back to life.

At times, we need shock treatment in the spiritual life. Sports, family, and our jobs are all important. But there’s always some danger in saying, “The Green Bay Packers mean the world to me” or “My family means the world to me” or “My job means the world to me.” Pushing the limit, we might even say, “The world means the world to me!” Sports enthusiasm can become a kind of religion. Hobbies can become excessive and expensive, damaging families and friendships. Even devotion to families, tribes, and nations can be disproportionate, displacing the centrality of God’s word and His law.

Jesus shocks us with these words: “If any one comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple… Whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:25-33)

Nothing – not even the love of family -- is more important than following Jesus. In a sense, Jesus is repackaging the words of Job: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21)

For the most part, Job is just describing reality. We are born into the world with nothing, and we return with nothing of the world. We never see a hearse pulling a U-Haul. The hard part is holding fast to his concluding words: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

The point is quite simple: God’s name as we know it through Jesus, the Word made flesh, must govern our beliefs, lives, and relationships. He guides us to everlasting life and forces us to face some tough choices throughout our lives. Even our attachment to our life can become an obstacle to our relationship with Jesus.

Indeed, all earthly life is passing away. When we reach a certain age, we start losing family and dear friends. The prospect of our demise isn’t pleasant, but it need not be without hope and joy.

As a priest, I have the duty and privilege of visiting people who are preparing for death. Some time ago, I attended a man who was fully conscious but unable to speak. He could only receive a tiny piece of Holy Communion. He was a man of faith, so shortly before he died, I challenged him to become a theologian: to ponder the name of Jesus and His words.

I suggested he think about a rather obscure Gospel passage, a passage I was also considering. The next week, I asked him if he came up with a solution. With great excitement, he shook his head in the affirmative. Alas, he was unable to speak, so I never received the benefit of his theological reflection.

But it was clear Jesus was central to his life. Surrounded by a loving family and the comforts of home, it seemed clear to me that he had the right order of things: God, family, homeland, and career. He was ready to return to the God who created him.

At military funeral Masses, an American flag drapes a casket. At the door of the church, a white garment replaces the Stars and Stripes. To some, it may seem to be a shocking disregard of a soldier’s patriotism. No such thing! The funeral pall is a beautiful reminder that devotion to our nation, our family, and the things of this world – is elevated and purified by Baptism.

Someday, we all will receive shocking news. The doctors will tell us our time is short. The prognosis will silence us, bring us great sorrow, or, at the very least, disrupt our retirement plans. But the prophecy of Job will be clear: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away….” The word of the Lord is all that we have entering eternity.

With God’s grace, and a lifetime of practicing the faith – please God – may we respond with devotion: “…blessed be the name of the Lord.” Come, Lord Jesus!