Heal Yourselves!

In the song 'The Temple' from the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, Jesus ends the song by crying out in a loud voice, 'Heal yourselves!'. It is a controversial line in the production and many people argue that Jesus would never say these words and was always compassionate. The song has people seeking Jesus' attention to heal their various ailments. It builds to a crescendo where it appears that Jesus is totally overwhelmed by the need surrounding him.

I must say that sometimes (especially just before holidays) ministry feels a little this way. It is all too much. The demands that people place upon you and the expectations they have of your time and energy seem neverending. Thankfully, I am at the end of a week's leave and feeling ready to emerge out of my cocoon once more. I can certainly imagine Jesus feeling overwhelmed and frustrated by the continuous challenges of his life. Maybe he didn't yell out, 'Heal yourselves!', but I have no problem believing he thought it every once in a while.

In fact, I think there is some wisdom in these harsh words. In my experience as a Spiritual Director, it is those people who are ready for healing to occur in their lives who are easiest to work with. They want healing and they are prepared to do the difficult work to help the process. I ask questions and feedback what I am hearing and seeing in the person. Often, the person will thank me at the end of the session, but really they have done the work. They have 'healed themselves'. 

Many people want miracle cures and magic transformations. But, contrary to many claims, there are no magic wands waiting to fix all the problems. Inner healing comes from deep inner work. This takes time, commitment and courage. When we look at Jesus' encounters with people in the Gospels we find him helping people to heal themselves. The healing narratives almost always have a deeper conversation following which encourages the person to continue the journey of healing at a deeper level. 

Healing is an ongoing process. It never ends. For me healing is about discovering my true self, being in right relationship with others and knowing my God. Only I can do that work. And so, Jesus' cry, 'Heal yourself' is not an offense, but a call to take responsibility and engage in the hard, inner work necessary for healing.

The Soul of a Place

I have just finished a book that I was given for Christmas titled 'In Search of My Father' by Dr Helena Popovic. It is her own account of her search for her father beyond the man of grief, despair, depression and dementia. It is an insightful and moving story that eventually leads them to travel back to her father's homeland, Serbia.

I found the last few pages of the book very thought provoking. A Serbian woman recalls a friend's reaction to Australia. 
'They said Australia didn't have a soul. They said everything looked good but somehow something was missing. A sense of hollowness was in everything - even their fruit and vegetables. They were blemish-free and picture-perfect but they'd lost their flavour. People could buy anything they wanted, but it didn't feel like enough. That's what my friends said, anyway. If you love living there, you must have discovered the soul of the place. Everything and everyone has a soul, if you dig deep enough.'

Does Australia have a soul? Can any place have a soul? How can we even measure such things? I have certainly felt drawn to places throughout my life that seem to speak to me in deep ways beyond my understanding. People have certainly told me about places that have a spirit of their own or are very sacred. Is this evidence of the soul of a place?

We talk quite openly about 'soul mates'; those people in our lives who seem to connect with us on another level and with another language. This language that has no words and cannot be translated is how our soul connects with the soul of another. It is our way of saying we have a deep connection. Could it not be that our soul somehow connects with the soul of a place in the same significant way? I know for myself there are certain places where I just feel at home; comfortable to be at one with a place. I also can understand the sentiments of the Serbian woman's friend. 

Z Bend in Kalbarri, Western Australia

Maybe it is not about a place being soulless, but simply that our soul does not connect in the same way in that space. For me one of the places where my soul connects is the Z bend in Kalbarri. It is a place of great beauty, but more than this, it is a place of connection for me. The rest of the world call fall away while I am sitting there and all would be well. It is a place of inner peace and deep knowing. I don't know why or how or what it is that causes this connection. In some ways, I don't want to know. It is the mystery of the beauty of the connection that makes it so wonderful.

The Temptation of an Every Day Minister

Then she was led by the Spirit into the wilderness of another week to be tempted by those inner voices. After toiling for at least forty hours, she was left hungry. Her ego spoke and said, "If you are a successful minister, fill your pews with people and make your church financially secure."

In the silent stillness a whisper replied, "Be still and know that I am God."

Then the minister was led to the church office where playgroup was in full swing, the phone was ringing and the emails just kept coming. "If you are an effective minister, throw yourself completely into your work."

In a deep breath and a sigh a memory arises, "Love your neighbour AS YOURSELF."

Again she was taken to a high place and shown all the members of her congregation. "All of these people will like you if you give them what they want and preach what they want to hear."

But the question lingered, "What does God require of you?" 

To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Those annoying inner voices retreated for a time, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike again.

What do we notice?

We are currently using a study book based on the movie 'Chocolat' in one of our congregations. Today the session looked out how we deal with people who are different to us. There was one question that I found particularly challenging. It asked, 'What do we notice first when we meet someone new; the differences or the similarities?' On reflection, I thought of two separate but similar interfaith experiences that illustrated the effects of what we notice first.

The first of these occurred a few years ago now in Bali. I was on an exchange trip with the church. Our group of 12 people had visited various Christian programs and villages around the island. On this particular day we were visiting a Hindu temple. We walked up many, many steps until we could go no further. There were tourists everywhere, but they were restricted from entering the holiest part of the Temple that was reserved only for worshippers. A Balinese gentleman who was monitoring those who entered the holy section showed some interest in our group. He spoke with us and, on finding out that we were Christian, invited us to enter the holy area. 'You can come in and spend some time worshipping your God' he said. What a privilege! And what an experience!

The second situation was just last year in Jerusalem. We were taking an opportunity to have a close look at the Dome of the Rock, a magnificent building. For me , however, the opportunity to experience prayer and worship inside was exciting. We copied all of the other people approaching the entrance, covering our heads and removing our shoes, only to be told at the entrance, 'No tourists!'

Now, there are possibly numerous reasons for the different responses in these two places of worship. But, if I reflect in a totally selfish way about how I felt, there was a huge chasm between the two experiences. The Balinese man, although we were obviously not Balinese or Hindu, noticed the similarities we had. We were all people for whom the spiritual was important and valued times of worship. The result - a unique, inspiring and memorable time of worship. The Muslim man at the Dome of the Rock probably had good reason to notice our differences, but that is all he saw. 

What we notice does have an impact. Not only does it change who we are as a fellow human, but we may never know how it affects the one we are noticing. So, the challenge for me is to notice the similarities first and then learn to appreciate the differences later.

If I only had the nerve

A friend of mine has a word that they focus on each year. It is a word that encourages personal growth and hopefully a change in attitude or behaviour. I was reflecting on what my word for this year might be. Two years ago my word was 'integrity' and it was a year of learning to be true to myself and my own beliefs. A lot happened in that year that contributed to my growth in this area. Last year I adopted a short phrase, 'no living in fear'. My awareness was raised at the impact fear has on our lives. It paralyses us, motivates us to behave in ways we would prefer not and distracts us from acting out of love. I don't know that it is possible to master such huge things in your life in the space of a year, but it certainly was helpful to have a focus.

So what is the word for this year? Courage! In many ways it is related to my themes of the previous two years. Living with integrity and without fear takes great courage. Courage to speak up when you know that your opinion is not popular. Courage to take risks and give new things a go. Courage to show strength and find your true potential. Courage to confront. Courage to love. Courage to stand on the margins. The list could go on.

As many of you know, one of my favourite movies is 'The Wizard of Oz'. The cowardly lion joins the journey to see the Wizard in search of courage as if it is something that can be attained or achieved. On finally speaking with the Wizard about his request he discovers that he had courage all along inside. So, learning from this piece of wisdom I need to be careful not to start a quest for the nerve I need. Instead, this year needs to be a year of going deeper within, spending more time being still and quiet and discovering the courage that already lies within. And so the Year of Courage begins!!

Words

A few years ago, my daughter, with beautiful child-like honesty, confided in me that she was afraid of people who looked like they were from another country. My initial reaction was horror that I could have produced a child that was intolerant of differences, but after a little more conversation I discovered it was about the language difference. She was afraid that she would not understand them and they would not understand her. It was all about communication. 

Language is so important in our lives, whether it be the language we speak, our body language or the words we use to speak of things that are beyond language. I admit that these days I have a similar fear to my daughter when speaking about all things spiritual. Will other people understand what I am saying? Will I understand them? Will there be misunderstandings? And how can we even find language to describe that which is beyond words?

For me the key is to listen beyond the words. It is like learning a new language with all it's nuances and culture. It is in the conversation that I discover that we are actually talking about similar experiences, we have just found different ways of expressing that and drawn on our diverse vocabulary. I have long left behind the days of being threatened by people who use different names for God or ways different from mine to express their spiritual journey. My hope for this year is that people will really listen to each other and try to understand the different languages that we use.

Bethlehem Revisited

On the morning of May the 10th, 2005 I was standing on the shore at a conference centre just out of Athens watching a boat arrive. I had no idea that this was the beginning of a much larger story for me, where my journey would intersect with the journeys of so many others. As the boat drew closer we could see a large wooden cross on board. To the sound of African talking drums, nearly 600 participants in the Conference on World Mission and Evangelism, received it and prayed together. The 5-metre-high cross, handcrafted in Jerusalem, contained wood salvaged from olive trees in Bethlehem cut down in the building of the wall separating Israel from Palestine. It was a symbol of reconciliation and healing, and of churches standing in solidarity with Christians in the Middle East.

I must admit, at the time, I didn’t have a clue what was happening in Israel. Keeping up with current affairs had never been a strong point of mine. I knew there were problems, but couldn’t have told you anything about the separation wall and what that meant for the people. Despite my ignorance, however, I came away from that conference knowing I had experienced something meaningful and an event that would hold great weight in my life. Momentarily, my journey had touched the journey of Christians in Palestine.

Nine years on, in August this year, I found myself in Jerusalem. Our day trip to Bethlehem was with a Palestinian taxi driver. On the way there, he explained what life was like for his people many of whom struggled daily with Israeli checkpoints and living behind a separation wall. There was no bitterness as he told his story. He simply told us about his life and trusted that God was with him. As we drew closer to Bethlehem a mountainous wall appeared. In fact I struggled to call it just a wall – it was a barrier created out of fear. This was where the cross in Athens came from. It was real. The stories came flooding back and all of a sudden made sense.

I must say the Christmas story has had a different feel to it this year after visiting modern day Bethlehem. The stylized images of the nativity and shepherds in their fields have become a little less glossy after seeing the Jewish settlements built over Shepherd’s fields. Instead the hardship and the desperation of the Christmas story seems more stark as the story somehow repeats itself again and again in the stories of people today.

It is not only a journey that touched the stories of others in the first century. It continues to meet us in our journeys today.  And this is what makes the story so important for us. It is not a story that is out of touch. It is not a journey that is completely foreign to us. It was a journey of struggle, a journey of survival, a journey of hope. Jesus knew what it was to be a refugee, knew what it was like to fear for your life, knew what it was like to be away from home and still he reached out to all people with love and compassion. Despite his own experience and his own journey, he was able to meet others on their journeys and walk with them for a while in love.