Redeeming Memories for Healing
On my first day as Resident Chaplain, I entered a narrow entry way and saw at the far end two security guards at a desk. The area was clean; dull paint covered the walls, and a bulletin board was filled with postings of upcoming events. As I walked down the narrow corridor toward the guards, I got a glimpse of community life in transitional housing offered to homeless adults by Lutheran Social Services of New York. At that point, the memories of my childhood trauma surged back and the words of Randall Robinson in Defending the Spirit came to mind as I stood watching the activity in front of me, “And I have traveled a long way to nowhere…The child lives on in the [woman] until death.” 1
In those few moments, I was gripped by panic. I prayed in silence, and as I felt God’s presence, I recovered; I was able to re-focus and to think of how the good and the bad of my childhood experiences as well as the re-telling of stories of my past gave me courage to hope in spite of my woundedness.2 As noted by Conrad Weiser, “No one succeeds in growing up unscathed. All of us are wounded in different degrees. Maturing, then, requires moving through the woundedness.” That is a gift to me, and that gift I extend to others as I sit, listen, talk, and be present with those suffer.
“Pain and suffering,” in the words of Shrinivas Tilak, “(whether physical, psychological, emotional, existential, social, or metaphysical) are universal human phenomena.” 3 Thomas Keller in Walking with God through Pain and Suffering also says:
Suffering is everywhere, unavoidable, and its scope often overwhelms…When we hear of a tragedy, there is a deep-seated psychological defense mechanism that goes to work. We think to ourselves that such things happen to other people, to poor people, or to people who do not take precautions…such thinking fails to “take life-seriously” or to admit the “lived truth…of the rumble of panic underneath everything.4
Through my chaplaincy training and my therapist, I learned defense mechanisms were a ready solution to my bouts with anxiety. “Defense mechanisms,” as described by Gerald Corey, “have two characteristics in common: (1) they either deny or distort reality and (2) they operate on an unconscious level.” 5 For example, I grew up with the baby-boomers. My family and I watched sitcoms on our black and white television. One of them was Ozzie and Harriet. This couple was my perceived notion of America’s ideal couple. Bernard Weinraub described them like this, “He was a bit goofy, never seemed to have a job and was always puttering around the two-story Colonial house. She was an all-purpose Mom who happily wore aprons most of the time and never seemed to leave the kitchen…”6 Even though I found great comfort in our family time in laughter and enjoyment as we watched these sitcoms, when the shows were over, I realized our lives were far from this ideal. In my mind, I wanted desperately for us to be the ideal, but I wouldn’t dare voice this thought to my family, friends, or anyone. So, I blotted those unpleasant thoughts about family out. As a result, during my visits with those suffering from experiences with family, I unconsciously turned off my story and was unable to listen or join sufferers fully as they shared their families’ tales of woe.
I am always amazed and inspired that the pioneer founder of the clinical pastoral education movement, Anton Boisen, realized that his own wounds were important in his own healing; through them he understood his own pain and woundedness. “Understanding one’s own pain,” according to Dr. Colletti:
provides the opportunity to convert weaknesses into strengths and to offer one’s strength as a source of healing to those who are unable to cope effectively with feelings of alienation, separation, isolation, and loneliness…Thus, not only does the pain of suffering rise from the depths of a human condition that everyone shares, but healing as well. 7
In her posting, Broken World, Broken People, Lyndsay Holly shares that the one lesson she learned “is that we ALL are broken. There are things in each one of us that are not good, and each one of us needs the ‘Great Counselor’ to come in and speak to us…even while we sleep (Ps 16)…and heal the things that are broken (Hos 6).” 8 For me, a wounded healer, the story of Jesus’ healing of the man born blind in the fourth Gospel inspires my work of ministry. As pointed out in Heal Thyself,
…this and all of the healing stories in the New Testament must be read through the lens of the resurrection of Jesus, the definitive sign that God’s Kingdom has come, and that it has triumphed over sin and all of its effects. Just as the resurrection is the ultimate sign of the Kingdom and its victory over sin, sickness, and death, so are the healing stories incremental signs of that same victory…Jesus heals, quite simply, by overcoming sin and the most significant of its effects, alienation.9
Furthermore:
The real sin, in light of Jesus’ establishment of the new, inclusive humanity that is citizenship in the Kingdom of God, is the sin of those who exclude from their presence the man whose sickness and suffering had separated him from the midst of the people of God. 10
Remembering the message of God’s love and care in the stories in Scriptures reminds me that from my early existence into the present time, in spite of my struggles, my faults, and my wrongdoings, “God loves and cares” even for me. As expressed by Patton, “God who caringly creates human beings for relationships and… continues to care by hearing and remembering them…reminds members of God’s scattered people that they are remembered.” 11
When my world crashed in on me, I was overwhelmed. I felt hard pressed to find solutions. None came. During that time, I felt terribly alone and uncertain about my marriage, my job, and my life. To that point, I had tried to fix everything. I denied myself the right to rest, to refresh, and to replenish while my body shouted: "fool, you need to take care of yourself!" I was exhausted mentally, physically, and spiritually. My healing began when I sought and found comfort in the words of the psalter, “The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul…” (Ps 23).
Conclusion
God’s call on my life through this work of ministry has given me a chance to look at my own pain and suffering and that has opened a way for me for healing and to be present with others that suffer. Now I am also able to understand more fully God is continuing to do a new thing and counts on me and others to participate in this redeeming work.
Notes
1. Randall Robinson, Defending the Spirit, (New York: Penguin Group, 1998), 3.
2. Conrad W. Weiser, Healers Harmed & Harmful (Minneapolis, MN: Augsberg Fortress, 1994), Kindle Electronic Edition: Chapter 2, Location 329.
3. Shrinivas Tilak and Yashwant Pathak, eds., Meanings of Old Age and Aging in the Tradition of India, (Rockaway, NJ: Hindu Swayamsevak Sangh USA, Inc., 2006), 137.
4. Timothy Keller, Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, (New York: Penguin Group, 2013), 1-2.
5. Gerald Corey, Theory and Practice in Counseling and Psychotherapy, 8th ed., (Belmont, CA: Thomason / Brooks Cole, 2009, 2005), 61.
6. Bernard Weinraub, “Dousing the Glow of TV’s First Family,” The New York Times, June 18, 1998, accessed March 6, 2014, at peterjonesproductions.com.
7. Joe Colletti, The Wounded Healer, at 222.urban-monk.org, accessed February 14, 2014, 3.
8. Lyndsay Holly, Broken World, Broken People, at lyndsayholly.theworldrace.org, accessed March 7, 2014.
9. Joel James Shuman and Keith Meador, Heal Thyself: Spirituality, Medicine and the Distortion of Christianity, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 126.
10. Ibid, 127.
11. John Patton, Pastoral Care in Context: An Introduction to Pastoral Care, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993), 5.
