The Instruction Manual

Got a story, here. It's not a funny one, or a particularly pleasant one, but I thought it was important enough to write down, so take that as you will.

It's a story about two women, who I will call Cancer Lady and Church Lady.

Now, Cancer Lady, as you might assume, was in the process of dealing with cancer, a particularly ugly one, with chemo and radiation and bigtime invasive surgery, and all that this entails. Anyone who's been there can tell you what that's like, and it ain't fun, and it ain't pretty, and, in fact, to put up with it, you have to have a pretty strong desire to stay alive, or so I am told, because you're weak and sick and pathetic and your quality of life don't count for much, when you're fightin' the cancer.

Anyhoo, one day not long after the surgery, Church Lady came a-calling to visit Cancer Lady, and see how she was, and catch her up on events, and to offer comfort in this terrible time of tribulation. And Cancer Lady's husband let her in, and a chair was found for Church Lady, as Cancer Lady was sufficiently sick that she didn't want to get out of bed, except for the occasional bathroom run.

Now, in point of fact, Cancer Lady was NOT in the mood for company... but Church Lady had come a ways to see her, and, well, grace under fire and all that, and she sat up in bed and did her best to accomodate Church Lady's relentless desire to be of comfort in this time of sickness.

This went on for a couple of hours.

This might not SEEM like much, but Cancer Lady was REALLY not feeling well, and it was taking quite a bit out of her to be "on" for company, and two hours was really more energy than Cancer Lady had to spend. And finally, Cancer Lady said the magic words that were supposed to end the audience, concluding with, "I have to go to the bathroom, and I might be a while."

Church Lady smiled, failed utterly to get the hint, and said, "That's all right, I'll wait."

Cancer Lady frowned. "No, I don't think you understand," said Cancer Lady. "I started chemo yesterday, and I have to go to the bathroom, and to be honest, I'm not sure which end, if not both, is going to be going. I am likely to be a while."

Church Lady smiled with beatific patience. "That's all right, I'll wait for you."

Cancer Lady closed her eyes in frustration, and felt the last traces of patience wink out of existence. "I do not have the energy for this," said Cancer Lady. "I am sick. I am tired. I am exhausted. And I need you to leave. Now."

Church Lady blinked, a little surprised. "But I just got here."

Cancer Lady struggled out of bed. "And now I need you to leave," she said, struggling to get to the bathroom. "Thank you for visiting. I'm sorry I'm not a better host, but I'm very sick."

Church Lady was offended. She told Cancer Husband this, at length, while he escorted her from the house, and stood on the stoop lecturing Cancer Husband about his wife's bad manners for a while before leaving. After all, it says in the Bible that one should visit the sick and offer comfort!

I didn't hear about this until not quite two years later, when Cancer Lady finally lost her fight. It was good that I had heard about it before the funeral, as Church Lady was there, and had quite a bit to say about Cancer Lady's bad manners and ingratitude, that last time they had been together, but Church Lady was quite sure that God would forgive poor Cancer Lady her ingratitude. After all, it says in the Bible to visit the sick!

***

Now, I'm not here to bash on God. Far from it.

But the Bible is not an instruction manual. I've heard it described that way. It isn't.

I have known far too many people who seemed to think that if they could find a justification in the Bible, then... they MUST BE RIGHT! And therefore justified in doing whatever the hell they wanted to do in the first place.

The Bible is not an instruction manual, nor is it a justification for much of anything, and quoting it -- or following its instructions -- doesn't mean you are always right. Or justified. Or even rationalized.

Because if it did... that would make you God, now, wouldn't it?