"The healing of his seamless dress is by our beds of pain."

 Hymn: “Immortal Love, Forever Full” – John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)
Tunes: SERENITY, BISHOPTHORPE

I’ve always pictured this hymnline as though Christ in his flowing white robe is hovering beside a hospital bed as nurses rush about trying to heal and bring comfort. I’m sure that is part of what John Greenleaf Whittier had in mind, but in the flow of the poem, the previous line says, “We search the lowest depths, for him no depths can drown.”

Pain is not always physical – it is not always attached to an organ or appendage. Pain is so often – maybe MORE often – mental and/or spiritual. The crowded press of life is too heavy upon us, and we fall prey to the downward spiral. Frequently hidden or camouflaged, cloaked behind an overwhelming talent, a grand smile or a hyper sense of humor, the hurt is no less excruciating than broken limbs or cancer-robbed tissue. The writhing on THAT bed is no easier to handle, because it is often considered a certain death bed.

Whatever the pain, Christ is at the ready - the hem of his garment still available to be pursued, grabbed and employed.

“We touch him in life’s throng and press, and we are whole again.”

                           Gordon Young’s Setting of This Text