FAITH INTEGRATION

Who told us to leave our spirituality, our hearts, at the door when we get ready to leave our vehicles in the parking lots of our employers?  When was this subtly fed to us?  I was outrightly told to do this when I began working for a Lutheran based organization in Northwestern Minnesota.  It was part of staff training involving the opening of a newly built facility for troubled children between the ages of 10 and 17.  The young director who had been hired had worked in the field of “juvenile delinquency” for a number of years and he meant no harm to me or the others.  His message was one of arming ourselves to the manipulations and triangulation attempts of the residents,  those who would be coming at the bequest of their parents and at the order of the juvenile judicial system.  What this director was not aware of was how leaving my spirituality out in the car left me a fragmented individual always facing a battle of “Who am I?” and “Why am I doing this difficult, emotional work?”  The scenarios that came with these young people were as diverse as the color of their hair and the fashions that they wore.  I was employed to “hold them accountable and teach them new behavior skills”.  It sounds very matter of fact and leaving the more sentimental part of myself out of the equation probably makes pretty good sense from a purely methodological point of view but, in reality, it gets messy.  Let’s take the 10-year old young girl who acted out as a result of her mother drinking heavily, partying in her home with strange men, and then sending those men purposely down to her daughter’s bedroom as a “reward”, “payment”, or “entertainment” for them and as a nightmare for her daughter.  Her real pain, she said, was that her mother would beat her with the heals of shoes and the metal handle of a fly swatter.  I listened as best I could as one who was fragmented.  All this little girl said she wanted from me was to hold her.  She cried and I cried. I tried very hard to stifle the sobs inside of me.  I could envision her story and felt the initial stirrings of my senses towards the fear and dread that must have accompanied the stumbling footsteps down the hallway as she lay there frightened and alone.   I could not hold her and I should not have held her in the system of managed care.  I was the only staff on at that particular point in time and I was vulnerable to any possible accusations that a young child may have chosen to point towards me and with that could be the suffering of my own children.   Leaving my spiritual self out in my vehicle did not help me to figure this out, though, or to make some kind of peace with it.  It left me feeling cold, authoritative, and inhumane.  It did not help me to problem solve and let surface the Will of God and the eternal possibilities, including that of spiritual healing, which could have been addressed in what I would later discover to be that “Holy” moment.  To this day I pray that she saw my tears for her for I could not shut my body off to the torment shared as she sat on the bed in her room.  I also pray for her forgiveness and God’s Mercy for the way I stumbled into a conversation about talking to her social worker after the tide of grief had resided and I could physically breathe again.  Do not get me wrong, the conversation would have included the hopefully compassionate social worker but it also would have included God in whatever way He would have led me to. 

This little girl’s story is huge because it brings to light Satan’s hold and our human sinfulness.  Her heart “cried” at the injustice of her being “locked up” while her mother and the rest of the perpetrators continued “free” to walk through their days without punitive readjustment.  The world of the 10 year old does not include an understanding for social problems and repetitive abusing.  It is full of love and hate, yes or no, happiness or pain, comfort or fear, friend or foe.  She is the “next generation” that falls under the “sins of the father (and mother)”.  We have tried for years now to bring about some systematic form of justice that will, hopefully, eventually fulfill her basic needs.  But who among us will help her to “spiritually heal” from this crucifixion?  Who will be brave enough to add spiritual awareness to the initial staff training agenda not only in this and other Christian funded homes for children with mission statements that use the name of God or His Son, Jesus Christ, but also within the entire framework of the social system of juvenile, disabled adult, elderly, human care.  If all past and present staff were to gather for a reunion of sorts, would there be a desire for communal prayer to help us heal? To help us heal the truth of the stories left fragmented within us that trouble our sleep at nights?  Would we cry for ourselves and for those we came to know so well and hold one another against the raging storm of sin or would we refer each other to someone else, someone else who hopefully would be compassionate and understand that sending us into hell without the armor of our Savior and the possibilities of our Advocate, the Holy Spirit, just keeps the abuse smoldering, waiting for that wisp of wind that will set it alight all again. 

MEN

Good Morning, Everyone.  This morning I have been thinking about men; all the men who have walked in and out of my life.  I am doing this because I have a clinical meeting that will address this issue this morning.  There will be a few of us who will sit and talk about the gift of family and friends and being in an intimate relationship with each of them. 

When I was on the journey of my Bachelor’s Degree, I wrote a report on the changing face of the “father”.  This would have been about 14 years ago now and there was sociological literature being written by men in support of men who were finding it difficult to remain connected with their children when their marriages ended.  I remember thinking that long ago that men needed to have a “revolution” reminiscent of the revolution that women had in the 60’s and 70’s but without the underwear burning and vicious attacks.  The problem, I surmised at the time, would probably be located in the necessity for men to gather and support one another in a more “emotional” way so that their plight would gather for them sympathetic ears and gain momentum.  Whether or not women have reached the heaven of equality that filled the vision of those spearheading the movement 50 years ago, it has still provided an achieved improvement for the young females of today.  Men can learn from that alone.

What has always struck me, though, is how hard we, as a society, try to force feed our need for change.  What also occurred in the transitioning days of the 60’s and 70’s was the war that erupted between the stay-at-home moms and the going-to-work moms.  We saw name calling, derogatory remarks regarding a woman’s desire to remain in the home as a soap opera watching, chocolate eating, under developed intellectual wearing her infant’s various meals upon her clothing, or even the extensive media coverage as to how it was more profitable for children to be raised in a “communal” setting of numerous other children their age being whisked from one play center to another every 15 minutes and how this was to stimulate their brains and we never seemed to get deep enough to where respect, love, and concern abound.  What did God want?

I hope men can learn from our distress, our disgrace, and our sinfulness also.  I pray that they do gather and support and celebrate one another out of love for each other as brothers and that they will allow their hearts to affect their “seeing” of us as sisters, wives, mothers, and friends.  Us women should be able to look at their social issues and assist them as differing parts of the Body of Christ. 

Today, I will ask the Holy Spirit to open my mind and my heart to truly “see” the men in my life and to gain the wisdom as to how they have helped to shape me and introduce me to the world.  Some of it will be joyful.  Some of it will be painful but placing my memories into the hands of God will allow it to be real.  He will help me to understand and become aware of what it is that I need to take with me on the rest of my journey and what feelings and memories I will need to embrace, shed tears over, and leave behind.

Be Holy

Good Morning, Everyone,

BE HOLY AS YOUR LORD GOD IS HOLY…Yesterday at Mass the message to all participating was to open ourselves up to our “completeness”.  Through Truth we know that we were made in God’s image and likeness, a Holiness with a dimension that beckons to us to rise to new heights of knowledge of “Who we are” and “Why we are”.  “Be Holy” is an amazing directive.  How can we be “Holy” in this day and age?  What would that look like?  Would we be taking every night of the week and working at one of the local shelters?  Would we be going from door to door in our neighborhoods and asking if anyone needed anything?  Would we be on our knees in church every week begging for forgiveness for all the times we never measured up to our potential and were left with guilt feelings of having done wrong?  OR would it mean that we do something simple like sit in our kitchen, look out the window and search for God in the whiteness of the falling winter snow?  Would we create music that incorporated Scripture or notes so beautifully combined that our heart was stirred to tears?  Would we be alongside one of our family members who was going for a chemo treatment opening ourselves to sitting in the silence of the unknown together..facing the possible birth of the eternal life to come?  Would we choose to read something written by a saint of the church instead of the month’s best selling mystery novel?  Would we contemplate the idea of physically getting on our knees and just being with God? 

Being Holy in this time in history in our culture of busyness is to right-order our lives to the divine nature of God created within us.  It is to embrace the silence and contemplate our lives as prayer and sacrifice.  It is to intentionally look for God and ask Him what His will is for our lives is.  We can say “in the quiet of our room” “Lord, please show me how to be Holy today.  Please guide me to those interactions that will call forth from me the depth of my love for you.  Challenge me, excite me, energize me, Awe me with Your desire for me.”  The response from God and the response to the call to “Holiness” will be uniquely different from person to person and has the power to leave us with a peacefulness that emanates from God’s Presence. 

You will not find the morning’s headlines stating “Follow Your Call to Holiness”.  Our time in history seems to have lost its intrigue with truth and reason.  The philosophers no longer stand in the market square and dialogue with one another about the meanings of life and what the “first” cause may be.  Our generation presents itself as if we already have it all figured out and the answer lies somewhere in between what we earn and what we purchase, with the focus being on me (we).  There is an irritating clue that has surfaced, though, that calls attention to the fact that we may have missed the point of living and that is the increasing anxiety that so many people seem to be experiencing that goes beyond neurological deficiencies.  Our health system has obliged us consumers and provided us with pills to take for grieving, for depression over losing a job, for being poor, for being (too) physically active, for eating too much, for being afraid, and the list goes on and on.  Instead of being “Holy” we end up being sedated.  “Be Holy as your Lord God is Holy” is a call, a wake up call to live an intentional, authentic life energized by the Holy Spirit; not zoned out by a cocktail of chemicals but inspired by the awareness that God chose YOU to live in this day and time for a unique purpose.  Allowing yourself to look into that possibility will only bring you to Holiness.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Good evening and welcome to Saturday, February 19, 2011.   My name is Chaplain Jennifer Martin and this is my first posting for my new blog that will focus on spiritual integration and hope.  My prayer is that I will be able to give some helpful insight into how we as Christians can integrate our spirituality into our daily lives and live the joyful life that God intends for us despite our situations.

I have been certified by the National Association of Catholic Chaplains to work in ways that would allow me to walk alongside my brothers and sisters who are in some way suffering.  My professional experience has led me to juveniles in placement, Hispanic mothers, our community’s poor, the homeless, and, most recently, college students.

Twelve years ago I found myself drawn to working with the Fargo/Moorhead poor and homeless.  It was an amazing experience that allowed me to work one-on-one with approximately 5,000 men, women, and children.  During this time I learned to maneuver through the area’s social service system and even was fortunate enough to work with some very wonderful and compassionate staff from other agencies in creating new programs.  As many would attest to, God uses situations like this to implant a small voice within that says “look deeper”.  I had been seeing the revolving door of homelessness first hand and had been praying for insight as to how I could better serve my clients.  Then came the voice that prompted me to begin looking at these beautiful individuals as whole persons and not as various goals to be met.  I began asking questions about spiritual resources and healing.  Many would take their precious icons out of their backpacks and show them to me.  One gentleman told me that he kept his Bible right next to his bedroll in his camp down by the river.  It was the people who startled me with their never ending desire to talk about God and His love for them and they drew me in through the door of lay ministry that had been opened for me.  Some would ask that we pray together and we did.  They would ask me to keep them in my prayers and I would ask them to pray for me.  One day I referred to one of the men as my brother in Christ and tears fell from his eyes.  I knew that I had just given him the re-membrance of community that he had been longing for.  Then I cried.