Wounded Healers

It always comes through the wounding. What we do when faced with our deepest wounds determines whether there is authentic spirituality at work or not. If we seek to blame other people, accuse, attack, or even explain and make perfect, logical sense out of our wounds, there will be no further spiritual journey. But if, when the wounding happens, we find the grace and the freedom to somehow see that it’s not just a wound, but a sacred wound, then the journey progresses. Then we set out to find ourselves, to find the truth, and to find God.

                               Richard Rohr (Daily blog 9/14/2020

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the mountains loom eerily

in a brown gray sky

while a shrouded sun colors the morning red

 

all the earth seems to mourn

the animals seem depressed

perhaps they need a lorazepam for their anxiety

the birds are silent and earth bound

 

meanwhile people armed with hate and fear

and AR-15s wander the streets

menacing and intimidating

and people in high places

talk about when “the shooting starts”

 

and a people and a nation

are sacrificed on the altar of an ego

 

we are in a dystopian world

 

and it is in this world that we are called

to proclaim good news to the poor

to proclaim freedom for the prisoners

and recovery of sight for the blind,

to set the oppressed free

 

I can proclaim

I can lift my voice, bravely and not so bravely

I can preach it

 

I can stand in the gathering dusk and say

“thus saith the Lord”

 

Love your neighbor

Bless those who persecute you, bless and do not curse

love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you

 

I can say it

I can preach it from the pulpit

I can insist that this is the way we ought to be

If we are to be light, shining in the darkness

 

and then

there is another affront

another killing

another injustice

another lie

another mass rally where people are exposed to a virus

another call for violence

 

and I am pulled into the circle dance of anger, fear, and resentment

I am outraged

 

and while I talk love, I do not love, not very well

while I talk forgiveness, I curse and do not bless

 

my soul is wounded so many things

by what people are saying and doing

by what I am saying and doing

 

ah Jesus

I talk your way, but struggle, in this time to walk your way

 

Mea culpa

Mea maxima culpa

 

I need the fresh wind of the Spirit

To fan the flames of love

So that once again I shine bring

 

So that the my light, so dulled

Might once again shine forth

Through the smoke and haze of fear, hate and anger

 

Ah Jesus

may the perichoresis, the circle dance of love

draw me into its circle

so that I am not part of the problem

 

but part of the solution

may my wounds become an opportunity for my own healing

and the healing of others

 

In this time the words of Rumi ring true

The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

 

And I am reminded

That “out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars”  (Kahlil Gibran)

 

Ah Jesus

do not let me rationalize all of this away

or excuse

do not let me stumble through the smoke aimlessly

do not let me be shallow

 

let me agonize and struggle

let me resist and fail

 

help me remember that wounds are not only how the light gets in

but how the light gets out

 

wounded though I am

heal me

and make me a healer

 

please?