In that city there was a widow who kept coming to the judge saying, "Grant me justice against my opponent." For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, "Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming."    (Luke 18:3-5)

Some years ago I was asleep in a hospital room when a new patient was brought in, around midnight. After the attendants left, I couldn't get back to sleep because the other patient was moaning in pain. I pressed the call button and told the nurse. After a few moments, during which I could hear the nurse asking the woman about her pain level, the nurse returned to tell me that there was no problem. In fact, the patient had been smiling.
 
The pattern was repeated several times, as I felt more and more like the persistent widow bothering the judge. Every nurse who came to take my vital signs and a doctor who came to tell me about some test results had to listen to my story about the patient in the next bed. Every time they checked on her, they received a smile as she expected help. With a strong pain reliever in my own system, I was too groggy to recognize the connection between the repeated word "dolor" and the name of Jesus' route to his Crucifixion, the Via Dolorosa or way of suffering. You see, the other patient didn't know any English, and none of the hospital personnel knew any more Spanish than I did. (Or Italian or Latin, since the word for "pain" is much the same in all three languages.)
 
In Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost, God enabled the disciples to speak in many different languages, so that the many visitors to Jerusalem could hear the good news in their native tongues: "All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability...And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each...'we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power'" (Acts 2: 4, 6, 11). God thus undid the confusion produced much earlier at the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11). In Trenton, our Babel experience ended when the nursing shift changed, and a new nurse saw signs of suffering on the woman's face. Finally, both patients in the room enjoyed pain-free sleep. It would have been a lot easier if God had suddenly granted the elderly woman the ability to speak English, or one of the rest of us the ability to understand Spanish. But just like the disciples waiting in Jerusalem, we eventually experienced Pentecost, filled with the kind of joy that comes when hours of frustration are over. The first sign was the nurse who provided the pain reliever. Then, in the morning, a young woman put down her mop for a few minutes to translate between patient and nurse.
 
All that day, we two giggled like girls over our attempts to learn new words. I still remember that "apple" is "manzana," although I never pronounced it to my new friend's satisfaction. Communicating with gestures and the name of Jesus, we agreed that the Holy Spirit had overcome the language barrier

Ven hoy a nuestras almas, infúndenos tus dones; Soplo de Dios viviente, oh Santo Espíritu del Señor.
 
Come now, and fill our spirits; pour out your gifts abundant. O living Breath of God, Holy Spirit, breathe in us as we pray.

Contributed by Jean
Sunday October 3, 2010
Liturgical Year C Week 47
Sunday Gospel reading:
Lectionary 29 (Proper 24)
Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost