I would like to tell you about someone who asked to see me several years ago. He was a man in his 50s and in order to preserve his privacy, I am going to refer to him as he first appeared to me. I will call him “the man behind the wall.”
This gentleman had an aggressive form of cancer that left him disfigured to the point that he did not want anyone to see his face. So he met with me and other visitors while seated behind a wall separating his living room from his kitchen. I sat at the kitchen table and I would see his legs through the doorway, but his upper body and face were completely obscured from view by the wall.
The nurse, who was the only person who ever saw him behind the wall in order to treat him, told me about his disease progression. The man behind the wall had a malignant tumor in the area of his lower jaw and neck and instead of growing inward, it grew outward, breaking through the skin.
The tumor grew very rapidly, pushing on his bones and joints, disfiguring his face as it progressed. His jaw was pushed to one side forcing his mouth upward with his lips permanently pursed. His nasal cavity was also pushed to the side, making his nose nothing more than a few, off-center holes. One eye socket was impinged by the tumor to the point that the eye itself was no longer functional.
Where the tumor was protruding externally from his face, it grew to the point that it became nearly as large as his own head. The nurse told me that she had to daily wrap the tumor, holding it to his face. He was no longer a candidate for surgery, chemotherapy or radiation. The man behind the wall was told that he could be kept relatively comfortable, but that was all. That is when I was sent to him, sitting on the other side of the wall while listening to his life story, his loves, joys, sorrows, his eventual decline and to pray with him.
The man behind the wall told me that the most difficult part of his illness was not the tumor itself, but seeing the horrified expression of people whom he encountered. He told me that family, friends and even medical professionals looked shocked and horrified when they saw him, even after multiple occasions. In the eyes of the world, of course, he appeared as a monster, his face barely recognizable as human. In fact, the nurse with whom I was working told me that even when she was treating his tumor he insisted on draping a towel over his face so that she could not gaze upon him.
Speaking with the man behind the wall reminded me of something Mother Teresa had said to me when I worked with her nearly 40 years ago. She said that “the greatest poverty in the world was to feel unloved.” It was worse even than physical poverty” she said, “to feel completely alone in this world and loved by no one.” As Jonah had lamented from inside of the fish: “You have hurled me into the depths; I have been banished from your sight; the deep surrounded me; I sank below the roots of the mountain; the earth beneath barred me forever.” (Jonah 2:3-6).
After visiting my new friend for several weeks and he was becoming much weaker, he said to me: “I think I would like you to come over here so that I can see you face to face.” As I crossed the threshold past the wall, what did I see?
The first time human beings are mentioned in the Hebrew Scriptures it says that God created us in his image and likeness (Gn 1:26). As the face of the Divine (the she-kai-nah in the Jewish tradition) is beautiful, each and every human face remains beautiful as well. It does not matter the age, color, size, shape, gender expression, ethnicity, country of origin, illness or differing ability: all human faces are radiantly beautiful. Why is it that we find this so difficult to recognize in one another?
So let us now return to the day that I last saw the man behind the wall: the one whose face he thought so monstrous that he did not want anyone to see him. And yet, in his last hours on earth, he asked me if I would gaze upon his face. Our Creator had given me the privilege of visiting with him for the last few weeks and now I was being given the opportunity to see him face to face before he left this world. As I crossed the threshold to the other side of the wall, what did I see?
I did not see a monster. I saw a man no longer behind the wall. I saw a man not so alone any longer. I saw a beautiful radiance … it was a beautiful face.
Rev. Dr. Robert M. Girard is pastor of United Church of Bernardston. The United Church of Bernardston is a welcoming faith community of Christians who celebrate and are receptive to the voice of God. We celebrate the beauty and uniqueness of each expression of God’s diverse family as well as our oneness in Christ. As we embrace Christ’s mission of compassion, justice and healing, we welcome into our community persons of every age, race, color, ethnicity, nationality, gender identity/expression, sexual orientation, mental and physical ability, economic and social status, faith background, marital standing, and family structure. We invite all to share in our worship as a faith community each Sunday at 10:30 a.m. as we seek to grow together in faith and love.
