They also serve who only stand and wait

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/04/2020 (1463 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

“Loitering with intent” was how one of my early spiritual-health mentors would describe the practice of being present without an explicit agenda, of lagging a bit just to observe with a keen eye alert to opportunities for meaningful engagement with people.

It feels like that in the hospital these days. We’re hanging out more than usual, anticipating a showdown with an invisible enemy that is wreaking havoc in other places and mostly leaving us alone. We stand ready to do the tough work our jobs sometimes entail, yet for now the front lines are relatively peaceful and our resources are not yet strained.

Some people, of course, are really busy. Here I’m thinking of the managers and strategists working overtime to anticipate needs and implement solutions. Or the people involved with all the logistics that the COVID-19 crisis has so complicated. Or those implementing the ever-changing personal-protection equipment protocols. Or…

But others are forced into a restless sort of waiting. Vigilance is on everyone’s mind as we watch, prepare and take care of the immediate business at hand — which sometimes seems unimportant, given the scale of the problem elsewhere.

We’re ready to roll up our sleeves, but with more empty patient beds, few visitors and many cancelled clinics and surgeries, there’s less “ordinary” work than usual. Like soldiers treading the trenches on the fringes of an invasion, we guard against an enemy whose efforts are currently concentrated elsewhere.

Will Manitoba escape with just a few skirmishes and salvos? We certainly hope so.

Yet living in the relative comfort of light duty when battles are raging elsewhere tends to grate on the souls of people who are willing to be engaged but have yet to be called to service.

It’s easy to feel guilty when we are being rewarded more for what we’re willing to do than for what we’re actually doing.

This is not a new situation. The poet John Milton wrestled with the possibility his actions mattered little in the grand scheme of things, but concluded his personal value was not diminished by the fact the God he worshipped didn’t actually “need” him to do anything. He had no cause to feel guilt. “They also serve who only stand and wait,” as he put it.

Or consider the ancient Hebrew King David. A welcome twist of good fortune comes at the tail end of one of the sorrier episodes of his life. While a substantial group of David’s discouraged company halted to rest by a stream, a core of hardened warriors pushed on to pursue a marauding enemy into the wilderness. Sometime later they returned victorious with families restored and goods replenished.

Yet while the men who continued into the desert expected to monopolize the booty, David determined otherwise. “The share of the one who fights is the same as the share of the one who looks after the supplies. We all share equally,” he decreed. It became a principle of his kingdom; the support crew matters as much as the front line.

In times like these it’s easy for some to feel bad to be relegated to benchwarmer status. Yet those in the thick of the fight along with those still waiting their turn are all on the same team. This understanding can be a powerful unifying force. Like the keel beneath a sailboat, the underlying sense of solidarity is invisible — and stabilizing.

Loitering? Perhaps. Ready to intervene? Absolutely.

Doug Koop is a freelance writer and spiritual-health practitioner.

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