September 25, 2014 Tonight, I watched the episode of the new season of Saving Hope, a TV show about coma patients.I watched this and reminisced about my own brothers death; Grant Duncan Bell, about 12 years ago.I dont know if I have ever shared this story on Facebook, if so, it is worth repeating. It was in mid January, it was cold when we learned that my baby brother, Grant was in the hospital and my brothers and sister and mother got into the car and headed to Saskatoon to be with him in the hospital. I quickly grabbed my leather jacket from the wall, and then I grabbed my grandfathers bible from the truck. Grant was a most beloved brother and the most cherished of children by my mother. You see, when my father died in 1967 (I was 11 yrs old at the time... my brother Grant was only 1 years old), My mother was able to go on because her baby needed her, perhaps more so than her elder children.We proceeded to Saskatoon in the middle of the night. I was driving. I was a professional driver and I was chosen to drive the frozen roads. The conditions seemed optimum, until 30 miles from Saskatoon, a driver ahead was driving so very slow, I had to slow down... when I hit the brakes (at 100 kph), I realized how slick the road was, and for a moment I could have lost control. From experience and the perfect condition of the Impala that my mother owned, I was able to regain control and so saved all our lives. From that time on, until we reached Saskatoon I never proceeded at more that 50 km/hr. We finally arrived safely at the Saskatoon General Hospital, we were quickly informed at the dire situation that my brothers condition was. He would not survive the night. My mother was clearly distraught and my only hope was to find solace for her. By then it was early morning. I went to the chaplins office of the Hospital, hoping to contact a local priest that my mother knew... I had his name and so I asked the one chaplin in the Hospitals Church Office to help me find him (a man named Morgan; an Anglican priest). I was still wearing my Leather jacket (Biker Cut, Buffalo Leather) and holding my grandfathers bible. A United Church Pastor was in the office and offered to help me try to track down this Anglican Priest. During our attempts to seek out the Anglican Priest in question, I had an ongoing conversation with the United church pastor, we spoke of what Jesus taught and the bible in my hand. As the discussion proceeded... he said some odd things and I (as a former theological student) continued to expound on the teachings of Jesus, about his words of encouragement and forgiveness and message of Love (universal). Finally, we reached the Anglican Priest and was able to inform about my Mother and the need for him to come visit and give whatever Solice he was able. Then something extraordinary happened. You see, the United Church Pastor suddenly started to apologize and with tears in his eyes began to tell his own story. He began... Please forgive me! I responded for what?... you helped me so much! He went on... When I first saw you, I judged you... you were wearing a Bikers jacket, and I thought you would beat me up.. I responded... for heavens sake, why and for what? He went on... You see, I am gay... I judged you, and I thought that you would beat me up, but when you reminded me of the reason I became a priest, that Jesus forgives... I didnt know that people could be the kind of Christian that you taught me in this last two hours. I didnt know how to respond, so I simply said... Jesus forgives, and if we are his children... it is not our place to judge, only love others, as he has loved us! With tears in his eyes he shook my hand so firmly I sensed he wanted a hug. However... that is not the rest of the story. I went back to my brothers hospital room... just in time to find the Hospital appointed Anglican priest came into the hospital room to pray with my mother and my brother. Just then, the Anglican priest Reverend Morgan also entered the room. The Anglican priest... seemed taken aback, just as he was about to pray... and said... I should leave... seeing Rev Morgan, and I said... no please stay... and why? His response was simply... I have been trumped, by the Bishop! I convinced him to stay and pray, with the Bishop. But I had no idea that my mother knew the Bishop... I only knew she needed someone to help her in this trying time.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 06:09:16 +0000
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