Spiritually Reshaped from the Inside Out

Over the last several months, there have been three different types of brain disease in my immediate family. One type is stroke, another type is dementia, and the third type is severe mental illness. Each brain disease has left a member of my family severely compromised in permanent and compounding ways. For me, the most serious of them all is the change in the relationships we now have with one another. A friend asked, "Are you mad at God for all this?" "No" I replied, "God has never left. Through all these changes, God in Christ stays close.

As the impact of the brain diseases was sinking into my emotions and my soul I said to a friend, "I feel like I am being spiritually remade from the inside out." The remaking begins with how I am in the world as believer, a pray-er, a witness to the living Christ. Since this road of my spiritual journey is so new, I look more towards others for guidance.

The guidance comes from caregivers. My relationship to these three family members is now not through conversation or anything that makes sense. So I hear the voice of Christ in gibbisher and repetitious questions. I agree with them and then turn to the caregiver for interpretation. I look for the gentle parameters of yes and no that the caregivers can put in place but that are not longer accepted from me. I trust a medical system that wants the same thing I do for my loved ones: comfort and healing while never completely understanding how we will get there. My view is day to day, visit to visit, hour to hour.

Yet, at the same time, the medical frame for healing is not always what my loved ones need, especially concerning my loved one with severe mental illness. My family member does not fit the tradition model of taking medication and therapy to get well again. Instead it is I who must enter the world of mental illness in conversation and compassion to help him help me understand what he needs. This way of loving is not from the head but from the heart. I feel closest to my loved one in centering prayer. I rely on the well of God's connection created in contemplation to feed me in the exercise of loving mental illness.

The guidance also comes from friends. A friend, to me, is a sacred relationship. Friendship now are deeper, more dependent, trusting in another's goodness. Their goodness flows into the empty spaces in me. Together, we can all give love again and again and again.

My spiritual reforming is at the beginning. So far it has drawn me deeper into prayer, listening, being present to life as it is now because that is where Christ is, and sacred friendships. This path is not one I chose but it is the path of Christ that I am now traveling.

And, I believe there are millions of people with families members with brain diseases who are on the same journey. I hope we can find the faith words, the theological words, to speak to one another.

Gender Matters, and so does our other differences

"Why can't you be more like your husband?" a senior lay leader asked me. It was six weeks into my tenure as the rector (senior pastor) of a complex, large parish. He didn't ask it with a wondering tone, or an imploring tone. He asked it in the there-is-something-not-right-with-you tone. I spent the next ten years alert to the spoken and unspoken differences people perceived in leadership.

Yesterday, I thought of all my clergy colleagues across the country as they spoke the words of the Gospel to the thousands upon thousand of people gathered in their congregations. I was aware that in some places my women colleagues had a larger challenge than the men. I was aware that in some places, the strong, clear, compassionate woman in the pulpit was a welcome voice and a comfort. I was aware of the mission of the church- the reconciling love of God, from the voice and presence of my colleagues of different races, languages, gender preferences, and political points of view. I prayed for them all because all our differences matter in one very important way.

And that significant way is awareness. "Why can't you be more like..." means there is a standard to which one is being compared. And when only that one standard is the staring point of relationship, the ears, heart, and mind shut down to the message. (I lost count of the number of times some particular people would say, "I can't hear you," even though the sound system was working fine,others in the pew next to them had no problem, and the individuals did not have physical hearing loss.) Being aware of the differences opens to behavior not the person as the standard. Instead of the standard being a person, the standard becomes clarity, purpose, commitment to a life of God, the welfare of the congregation or organization or group. All these standard show through in preaching, leading, and in relationship with those we serve.

Gender matter, race matters, age matters, language of origin matters and more. More important than this list is how each person, each leader, is aware to be that being clear, consistent, compassionate, and committed to standards beyond one type of person matters most of all.