While I have never described it as one of my favorite television shows, I have always enjoyed and appreciated Scrubs. It is simultaneously smart and goofy while similarly balancing the weight and levity needed to survive in the life and death world of healthcare. Because everything is being rebooted right now, Scrubs just debuted their first two episodes of Season 10 nearly 16 years after its last episode aired. So far I really liked what I saw. I laughed and there were a few moments that made me reflect.
In the second episode, there is a plot in which a young doctor becomes disillusioned when he finds that out that his patient keeps having to come back to the hospital because his medication is so expensive that he must parcel it out rather than taking it daily as needed. J.D., now the Chief of Medicine at Sacred Heart and this young doctor’s teacher, witnesses the slow death of the practitioner’s hope. Hope is the worst death of them all.
J.D. has to impart the difficult lesson that all doctors can do is the most good that they can while on their shift and then they need to leave it behind when they go home. Of course, J.D. also couples that message with doing the best he can via obtaining sample’s of the patient’s medicine and entering the labyrinthine beast that is the American health insurance system on the patient’s behalf.
All you can do is the most good that you can on this shift. That advice resonates with me. I am simultaneously aware of the fact that I am incredibly privileged and we also live in a country that somewhat resembles a hellscape. Every day there is a litany of news stories that make plain the suffering of numerous people and a system that is, at best, indifferent to the hurt or, at worst, gleefully perpetuating it. Yes, there are still good people and helpers out there but there are days when I feel hopeless. This is especially aggravated as I continue to search for work. It is hard to live near a raging inferno and all you feel like you have to help is a leaky squirt gun.
So I need reminders that I cannot fix it all. I am, as the Scrubs theme song reminds all of us, no Superman. So the best that I and the best that you can do is the most good we can do in this shift that we call today. It may not be huge or earth shaking. For me, a lot of that good is supporting my wife and my sons with all I have so that they can do the most good when they go out into the world. That is sacred work.
I believe that most of us experience an internal tug-of-war between the past and the future. In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis’ titular demon supervisor advises his underling Wormwood that one of best ways to keep a human from doing good is to keep them ping-ponging between those two times that are not the present. One keeps trying to recapture or reach towards moments that are mist. It can keep a person from doing something.
The quote above resonates with me because it harnesses the past and unfinished future into a catalyst that animates our present. We remember the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus because it means something today and compels us to presently work for the Good that is already here, but also not yet. We remember the hope and pain of the past to do something that help us take some sort of step each and every day. We realize that the hope which exists within the gospel story is not yet fully realized. Many people are still being left behind and forgotten. The realization, as the theologian Metz states, puts pressure and questions on the present.