The Kiss of Life…
“Sleepy’s passed out outside”…
All I can say is, “Really? Are you kidding me?” In this moment there are already too many straws on my fragile camel-back to process this. I’m thinking not only about the mob of teens that are arriving for Teen Bible Study, but even more, I’m thinking about my history with “Sleepy”.
This is the guy that pulled up all of the baby bushes that we planted in front of our apartment and then threw them at my apartment. This is the guy that publicly peed on my apartment. This is the guy that stole my lighter fluid and then used it to set the picnic table beside my apartment on fire. This is the guy with the teardrop eye tattoos that represent the people “he’s killed”. This is the guy that picked the worst time to pass out at the back door of our clubhouse church.
So I go out and check on him, and sure enough, he’s out cold, like cold-cold. So I slapped him across the face like they do on the hospital shows on TV. Nothing. So I check his pulse. It’s pounding, so I slap him again, but harder. This time he groans and half opens his eyes.
“Sleepy, what happened man?”
“Ate a bag of coke(cain)… throwin’ up green.”
Ok, I’m no Dr. but that sounds bad, so I call 911. The 911 guy has all kinds of questions for me, most of which I can’t answer because Sleepy has gone back to sleep and won’t wake up. Then 911 guy tells me to put my ear by his mouth and listen for breaths and say, “Breath,” every time he breathes.
Ok, sounds easy enough, “Breath… breath……… breath…………………………………..”
Now my heart starts pounding. He’s not breathing anymore. Um… what now 911 guy!?!
“Ok, I want you to put one hand under his head and plug his nose with the other and then put your lips over his lips and blow air into his lungs.”
A noisy crowd has gathered and I know I didn’t just hear that, so I ask 911 guy to repeat himself. As he’s repeating what I already clearly heard, everything goes slow motion for me. I’m looking down at Sleepy’s mouth that’s hanging open. As I’m looking at his three spike piercings coming out of his bottom lip, and imagining all the cocaine and green puke that’s still in his mouth, and remembering all the tender love he’s shown me lately, I lock-up. The kiss of life? Not that mouth, I just can’t. I know that makes me sound like a horrible person, but I just couldn’t do it.
So I squat down beside him with my head in my hands and tearfully choke out a desperate prayer, “God help me, I seriously can’t do this, please make him breathe without me.” Pretty much, “Here am I Lord, send someone else or do it yourself.”
“Sir?” 911 guy asks, rudely interrupting my prayer time, “What are we doing? We need to get this guy breathing.”
Suddenly all my me-centered thinking evaporates as I’m looking at Sleepy lying there. The stakes are suddenly clear- this is life or death. This isn’t about me getting poked in the lip with piercings; this isn’t about me getting some puke or residual cocaine in my mouth, or even about how he’s treated me in the past. This just isn’t about me, it’s about getting Sleepy to wake up.
So I put one hand under his head and plug his nose with the other. As I’m about to make lip contact, some people in the crowd start shouting angrily at me. “What the f*** you doing man!?! Why you trying to kiss Sleepy foo?” I quickly try to explain the “kiss of life,” but that gets them more confused and upset, so I lean back in, determined to get Sleepy breathing. This time there’s more commotion, but louder, so I turn around again. This time it’s the medical cavalry, and just in time.
The whole thing felt a bit like Abraham and Isaac, but instead of God calling me to kill someone I loved, God was calling me to love someone that I’d felt incredibly non-warmly towards. I think this was a loud picture from the Lord of something I struggle with embarrassingly often- I want to love people that need saving, I just don’t want it to cost me anything. I’ll love you, as long as you’re not too difficult, or too dirty, or too time consuming, or too costly. I’ll love you if you show potential for change, or if you’ll love me back, or if I won’t get hurt in the process, or if you don’t pee on my apartment and set my stuff on fire. Pretty much I’ll listen to you breathe, but if your breath stinks, don’t expect the kiss of life. How selfishly shallow and completely opposite of the love Christ has shown me.
So how much is a life worth? How much comfort, money, time, personal space, health is worth sacrificing to save a life? What if the life belongs to an enemy? Aren’t we all glad that while we were enemies of God, due to our trainload of rotting, disgusting, filthy sin, that He gave up His Son Jesus, to die, so we could live?
You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:6-8
Aren’t we glad Jesus didn’t fearfully lock-up in the face of death and say, “Here am I, send someone else Father. Come ON Dad, can’t you just save them some other way that doesn’t involve me having to suffer and die!?!”
So if it cost Jesus His life to save us from our sin, why do we think it will cost us any less to bring the gift of eternal life to others who are dying in their sin?
This life is crazy short, and eternity is crazy long, so in light of this reckless love we’ve been shown, and the life and death stakes, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the JOY set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Let us consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that we will not grow weary and lose heart in our God given quest to bring the kiss of life, that He gave to us, to those that are dying without it.
By the way, after an extended stay in the hospital, Sleepy is physically ok. We’re friends now and he’s even started coming to Church from time to time.
