In October of 1999, several fireman paramedics in West Haven, CT were treating the injuries of an eight-year-old girl who had been hit by a car at her bus stop. One of the fireman was an experienced paramedic but a rookie to the fire company. His name was Jim, and he was doing his job to help stabilize the patient in the back of the Rescue Truck as they sped toward the hospital.

The fire department vehicle was 30 seconds away from the Emergency Room when an airport shuttle ran a red light and plowed into the side of it, knocking the rescue truck over and across the intersection. Everyone was severely injured. Jim suffered massive injuries, including broken bones, a ruptured spleen and bleeding on the brain. It was his second day with the fire department.

Jim is my big brother, and he has been in a coma ever since.

Like Terry Schiavo, his eyes are open when he is awake, and he sometimes responds to people around him. Jim sees, he hears, he closes his eyes when a nurse arrives that he doesn’t like, and he feels pain when something is wrong. He is not on life support, but he does have a feeding tube because he can’t feed himself.

As you read this, liquefied nutrients are sustaining Jim’s life. As I write this, Terry Schiavo is slowly starving to death. A judge agrees with her unfaithful husband that her life isn’t worth sustaining any more.

I heard a news commentator say today that a certain “orthodox” religious group has declared that Terry Schiavo should never have been given a feeding tube in the first place because it “tampers with death.” The doctors, they say, should have let her die because she couldn’t feed herself anymore. 2/3rds of Americans, it is claimed, agree with them.

When my son was a newborn, we had to feed him constantly. Did our bottles and midnight feedings “tamper with death”? Were all those jars of baby food denying his “right to die”? Of course not, we all agree, because there is hope for a baby, if allowed to make it out of the womb alive, to have a high “quality of life.” There is no guarantee, no promise… just hope.

The message in our culture: Life with reasonable hope, or not too much inconvenience, is worth sustaining. Life without sufficient hope can be cast aside.

I had a friend named Danny who was a paraplegic due to a muscular disease. He was effectively paralyzed from the neck down for many years, during which his family and friends lovingly fed him. We didn’t have much hope for Danny’s future; his twin brother had died from the same condition. And yet, there was the present: Danny was a hilarious guy who loved life and made my life richer for knowing him. One time I had the privilege of feeding him his cheeseburger and fries at Burger King. Did I “tamper with death” by feeding Danny that night? I just remember good food, good conversation, and the chance to show a friend I loved him.

I marvel at how easy it is for everyone to pontificate about “right to life” and “right to die” when they have never looked into the comatose eyes of somebody they love. There are no easy answers. Do I want this quality of life for my brother? Do I want him to suffer? Never in a million years. But neither am I willing to starve him to death so I don’t have to watch him suffer. The neurologists say there is no reason to hope Jim will ever recover. I don’t care; I’m hoping anyway.

Like Terry, Jim didn’t leave a living will, so my family will probably never know what he would have wanted. He could have died a dozen times over from everything that comes from being in hospitals for so long, but he has survived time and time again. And so we visit him, and pray with him, and bribe the doctor into letting him taste a little chocolate cake on his birthday.

As long as Jim keeps on fighting, we’ll be by his side, and we’ll give him all the support - and food - he needs. When he and our Lord decide its time to meet face to face, we’ll kiss Jim goodbye, let him go, and whisper some see-you-soon’s.

Terry’s parents just want to do the same. Can you blame them?

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