As someone who has been involved with religion in a variety of ways for more than a half century, I am familiar with the various themes that religions of all traditions must address. Invariably these themes emerge from basic human questions. Early on kids learn to ask these kinds of questions. They will ask where they came from! Fairly quickly, they will ask about God. They might have questions surrounding death. This death interest seems to emerge about the time they head to school. These are not easy questions to answer.
Even for me, having a Ph.D. in religion, they are not easy questions. Of course, I know enough book knowledge to offer answers, but often they don’t seem like real answers to those asking the questions. I find offering doctrinal answers are even less relevant. People with real life questions don’t need or want a lecture. And they are suspicious of official church pronouncement, standard answers from some book of doctrine or some superficial answer like, “don’t worry, God will take care of everything.”
I have seen these kinds of questions coming not only from kids, but from those who are down on their luck. People who have failed or who are suffering ask really difficult questions. For sure, they don’t want answers that seem to have no bearing on their real life situation. If I am in pain or miserable in my failure, it does no good to hear the advice to relax and let God take care of it. That is not theologically helpful and it may actually be bad theology. But in these kinds of situations, people generally are not interested in theologizing.
When I am confronted by one of these folks dealing with a real life situation, all my knowledge may be of no use. I have come to accept that and be good with it. Typically, I resort to a section in one of Parker Palmer’s books, which has been a recipe for me for what to do. In his book, The Active Life, Palmer devotes a chapter to what he calls “The Angel:’ Action, Failure and Suffering.” In that chapter Palmer recounts a personal experience which contains the recipe for me to know what my ministry might be in situations where I deal with pain, failure and suffering.
Palmer shares with the reader about his experience of what he calls “deep depression.” I personally know Palmer and can attest he has wrestled with this over his life. So I trust his sense of what it is like and what has helped. Part of his story is the example of a man who offered what turned out to be immense help. In the middle of one bout of depression Palmer found a man who offered a very different approach from those mentioned above. Palmer writes, “Every afternoon at around four o’clock he came to me, sat in a chair, removed my shoes, and massaged my feet.” I sit up every time I read or think about this guy. Parker never mentions his name, but that does not matter.
Since Palmer named angels in the title of the chapter, I can only assume the man did not need a name. He was an angel. Palmer continues to describe his male angel. “He hardly said a word, but he was there, he was with me.” These are very powerful indicators of effective ministry. “Being there” is a huge gift that humans can give. Maybe that is why so many folks love their dogs and cats. They also are there---there for us. What a gift!
In addition to being there for me, the angel was “with me.” Again this is a gift we can give to another which proclaims to the hurting person that they are not alone. It offers what I like to call the gift of presence. So many people in our society are dealing with the poison of loneliness. There is no presence in their lives. There is no care---it is too easy to hear someone say they couldn’t care less. Angels always bring presence and company.
Palmer adds another dimension to this angelic presence. The man “was a lifeline for me, a link to the human community and thus to my own humanity.” I can imagine all of us are going to need from time to time a lifeline. A few live long enough, we are going to feel like we are losing---losing can take many forms, such as physical, emotional and spiritual. Will I have an angel who is a lifeline for me?
Parker’s conclusion always rings true to me. About this angelic man Palmer says, “…he had no need to ‘fix’ me.” So often, our situation is not one that can be fixed. The person dying in a hospice program is not going to be fixed, if by fixed we mean get back to healthy life. This resonates with me because I have been involved in so many situations where there actually is no fix---no fix in the normal, worldly sense. And since I am not God, why should I even think I can be a fixer?
Palmer’s story has been helpful to me, because it gives me a clue what I can do. I can become an angel. It may need no words. It requires actions of care and love. It is a ministry of presence and compassion. It is not doctrine, but a gift of delight---such as a foot massage. I can do this. Anyone can do it. It does not require professional education. It takes a heart for being angelic.
I can offer a lifeline. And I hope someone else will be a lifeline for me.
Even for me, having a Ph.D. in religion, they are not easy questions. Of course, I know enough book knowledge to offer answers, but often they don’t seem like real answers to those asking the questions. I find offering doctrinal answers are even less relevant. People with real life questions don’t need or want a lecture. And they are suspicious of official church pronouncement, standard answers from some book of doctrine or some superficial answer like, “don’t worry, God will take care of everything.”
I have seen these kinds of questions coming not only from kids, but from those who are down on their luck. People who have failed or who are suffering ask really difficult questions. For sure, they don’t want answers that seem to have no bearing on their real life situation. If I am in pain or miserable in my failure, it does no good to hear the advice to relax and let God take care of it. That is not theologically helpful and it may actually be bad theology. But in these kinds of situations, people generally are not interested in theologizing.
When I am confronted by one of these folks dealing with a real life situation, all my knowledge may be of no use. I have come to accept that and be good with it. Typically, I resort to a section in one of Parker Palmer’s books, which has been a recipe for me for what to do. In his book, The Active Life, Palmer devotes a chapter to what he calls “The Angel:’ Action, Failure and Suffering.” In that chapter Palmer recounts a personal experience which contains the recipe for me to know what my ministry might be in situations where I deal with pain, failure and suffering.
Palmer shares with the reader about his experience of what he calls “deep depression.” I personally know Palmer and can attest he has wrestled with this over his life. So I trust his sense of what it is like and what has helped. Part of his story is the example of a man who offered what turned out to be immense help. In the middle of one bout of depression Palmer found a man who offered a very different approach from those mentioned above. Palmer writes, “Every afternoon at around four o’clock he came to me, sat in a chair, removed my shoes, and massaged my feet.” I sit up every time I read or think about this guy. Parker never mentions his name, but that does not matter.
Since Palmer named angels in the title of the chapter, I can only assume the man did not need a name. He was an angel. Palmer continues to describe his male angel. “He hardly said a word, but he was there, he was with me.” These are very powerful indicators of effective ministry. “Being there” is a huge gift that humans can give. Maybe that is why so many folks love their dogs and cats. They also are there---there for us. What a gift!
In addition to being there for me, the angel was “with me.” Again this is a gift we can give to another which proclaims to the hurting person that they are not alone. It offers what I like to call the gift of presence. So many people in our society are dealing with the poison of loneliness. There is no presence in their lives. There is no care---it is too easy to hear someone say they couldn’t care less. Angels always bring presence and company.
Palmer adds another dimension to this angelic presence. The man “was a lifeline for me, a link to the human community and thus to my own humanity.” I can imagine all of us are going to need from time to time a lifeline. A few live long enough, we are going to feel like we are losing---losing can take many forms, such as physical, emotional and spiritual. Will I have an angel who is a lifeline for me?
Parker’s conclusion always rings true to me. About this angelic man Palmer says, “…he had no need to ‘fix’ me.” So often, our situation is not one that can be fixed. The person dying in a hospice program is not going to be fixed, if by fixed we mean get back to healthy life. This resonates with me because I have been involved in so many situations where there actually is no fix---no fix in the normal, worldly sense. And since I am not God, why should I even think I can be a fixer?
Palmer’s story has been helpful to me, because it gives me a clue what I can do. I can become an angel. It may need no words. It requires actions of care and love. It is a ministry of presence and compassion. It is not doctrine, but a gift of delight---such as a foot massage. I can do this. Anyone can do it. It does not require professional education. It takes a heart for being angelic.
I can offer a lifeline. And I hope someone else will be a lifeline for me.
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