I have been dealing with illness for the last few months, first with hypothyroid disease which sapped my energy during September and October, and then with a diagnosis of shingles, which has meant resting at home for the past two weeks. It is a reminder of how much we human beings are dependent upon these bodies we can easily take for granted. It is also a reminder about how much we human beings are dependent on other people to help us out, in all kinds of ways, but especially when something like illness takes away our illusion of independence.
Even the minister is a vulnerable human being. What a funny statement to make, since it is so obviously true. But sometimes the role of minister sets up a dynamic where the minister expects herself to be always available to help others, and not to need help for herself. It is very humbling. Not because I have needed some help during this time of illness, but because I find it so challenging to sort out how to be human at the same time as being a minister.
There is something in the role of minister that creates powerful expectations: it asks me to bring hope, compassion, and kindness to the people and work of our A2U2 community. It asks me to welcome people just as they are, and to affirm their humanity in the midst of troubles or tribulations. And I feel great joy to be able to do that. But the role of minister also creates an expectation of separateness: that somehow the minister is not to bring her whole self to the community, but merely the helper self. The minister is supposed to shut off other parts of the self, to keep separate any weakness, sadness, illness, loneliness, or frustration that I might experience. As ministry has become more professionalized, this dynamic has increased.
While resting at home, I have been reading Kitchen Table Wisdom by Rachel Naomi Remen, who talks about a similar phenomenon among medical doctors. As a doctor who also dealt with her own chronic illness, she discovered a power in bringing her whole self to her work with her patients. She believes that healing can happen when we recognize that we all are wounded, and we all are healers. I agree with her, I truly believe this in my heart, but I don't yet know how to make it function within the role of minister. It taps into the deep place in me that learned early to find my identity as a helper.
As we approach the busy month of December, I don't yet know how much I will have recovered from this illness. I hope to be back among you, but will likely have to pace myself, and not work as many hours as I usually do. My first priority is to be back in the pulpit and worshipping with you, even if I can't yet do everything else. Even there, I plan to draw from previous years reflections on the winter holidays, to help with the process of preparation.
The spiritual teachers say that everything can be a lesson for us, a way to grow, to become whole. I hope that this experience will be that for me, and I hope for you too to find growth and wholeness in the challenges that you face in your lives. May we all help each other on the journey.
And I also want to say a very warm thank you to those who have sent good wishes, and who have been helping out in various ways!