by Eddie Pipkin

Image by jennycepeda from Pixabay

I have a good friend who has been enduring a gauntlet of medical troubles since the last weeks of last year.  He found himself in the hospital for weeks, dealing with a cascade of interconnected issues, and then when they finally got his infections under control and his vitals stabilized, he still faced an undetermined stretch in a rehab facility because he had become so physically weak.  He insisted on heading home and is tackling physical therapy there – a more peaceful and encouraging environment – and he’s grateful for all the medical professionals who helped him heal, but he’s left with the nagging conclusion that in a building filled with experts in various fields, no one was ever quite thinking of him as one whole, integrated person.  He’s a ministry professional, so we did not miss the chance to note the way in which churches struggle with the same problem when they are trying to support the spiritual well-being of those in our charge.  Sometimes we treat the disease but kill the patient.

Ministry, like health care, is filled with “specialists.”  It’s easy for them to look at spiritual pilgrims through the lenses of their own pet approaches and miss the essentiality of stepping back to think of those individuals as whole persons, complex and multi-dimensional.

My friend, now on the mend, spent his hospital days in a gleaming, state-of-the-art health care facility getting to know many well-educated experts, each with their own protocols, priorities, and batteries of high-tech tests.  The cardiologist solves for the erratic heartbeat’ the pulmonologist is worried about the shortness of breath; the neurologist puzzles over the tingling in one’s lower extremities.  They are all prescribing medications (which the pharmacist is hoping to keep from negatively interacting with one another), and they all make their rounds at different times, so that you are addressing one pressing problem with each practitioner during their brief stopover.  There doesn’t appear to be a committee chair or project manager.  Maybe the Primary Care Physician (PCP) or a Care Manger or a Referral Coordinator passes through if you’re lucky, although often that personage seems to defer to the given expert in whatever problem is causing the most visible trouble at the moment.  You might like the team members, but you’re not sure that the team is on the same page.  It’s hard to feel like a whole, unified person.  It feels more like we are at war with ourselves and the system, composed of separate, independent territories, each fighting for precedence.

In my friend’s case, the most frustrating manifestation of this confusing competition was the physical languishing as he lay in bed and his unutilized muscles atrophied.  His meds are finally balanced, and his infections are vanquished, but his legs will no longer support his body weight.  He’s a prisoner in his own home.

“That’s predictable,” the physical therapist told him, as they began the demanding work of rebuilding lost muscle.  “With each day of confinement to your hospital bed, you can lose three to five percent of your muscle mass.”  That works out to four to five days of recovery for every one day stuck in the bed.

Why then, my friend wondered, did they not have him doing useful physical therapy on the days he was in the hospital room?  The crisis of each moment, as judged by the medical experts, overrode the long-term outlook, so now he has weeks of ground to make up.  He survived, but he is by no means whole – not for a while yet, anyway.

In our local churches, people routinely look to us to guide their spiritual health, and we routinely give them rote responses that fail to fully consider them as whole “patients.”

Perhaps we direct them to a spiritual gifts assessment (the epitome of an unnecessary church-y MRI if ever there was one).  At the end of an uncomfortable and often unfathomable process, they know they have the gift of tongues or the gift of administration or the gift of hospitality, but not the foggiest idea of how to practically use that very biblical sounding information.

Perhaps we send them to our Old Testament bible class, which, if it’s well led and engaging, will certainly improve their biblical scholarship, but may or may not directly address their hunger to follow God more faithfully and serve more passionately.  It will undoubtedly help, since Scripture is solid nutrition for the soul, but they may struggle to translate the heroic stories of the faith leaders of old to pragmatic application in their own relationships and day-to-day decision making.

We may send them to a morning small group, but whether that group is doing work that will be directly useful to their context is often a roll of the dice.  Whether they, with their unique personality and specific needs, will mesh with the other people in that group, remains to be seen.

Often, as staff or key volunteers with a specified portfolio, we see those who approach us for help and guidance through the lens of the problem we get up each day trying to solve.  “Maybe you should join the praise team,” suggests the music director.  “Maybe you would be energized by working with children in Sunday School,” says the Children’s Director.  The Small Groups Coordinator helps us find a slot with an existing small group; the Missions Coordinator places us with a service project; the Visitation Minister offers a list of names of shut-ins; etc, etc.  These are all valuable undertakings.  They may even turn out to meet the needs of the seeker.

It is highly unusual, however, that anyone takes the time for a long conversation that tries to get to the bottom of what a seeker is really seeking.  What are this person’s unmet needs?  What are their desires?  Their hopes?  Their fears?  Their talents and gifts?  How can we help them find their way in our community?

If we, ourselves, have a leadership role in a local ministry, we have a job to do, and it’s only natural that we would encourage any new person to help us get that job done.  Sometimes that works out well for both parties.  But many other times, it serves the institution while ultimately leaving the new person feeling adrift and unfulfilled and guilty for feeling that way.  What they really need is a “whole person approach,” someone who can help them figure out who they are in the context of how they can interact with our existing community.

In the medical field, this is known as the practice of holistic medicine.  WebMD defines it in this manner:

Holistic medicine practitioners believe that the whole person is made up of parts that depend on one another, and if one part isn’t working properly, all the other parts will be affected. So if you have imbalances (physical, emotional, or spiritual) in your life, it can harm your overall health.

A holistic approach requires someone to coordinate an overall strategy, to consult with the different experts in different areas (and/or be knowledgeable in those areas and familiar with the applicable resources).  This coordinator helps the patient take action in all applicable areas, balancing the various efforts, marking progress, and making ongoing adjustments.  The goal is optimal health, happiness, and productivity.

The impact when local churches take a similar holistic approach is dramatic and long lasting.  This approach can be accomplished when there are designated persons whose delineated responsibility is to fill this role, not as a side gig or occasional dalliance, but as their principal passion.  It is sacred work.

While any staff member or key volunteer can and should be trained in helping people answer their questions on this holistic journey, it is best accomplished when there are people whose sole role is this important mission.  If you’re a very small congregation, the minister or parish priest can certainly take on such a role, but in congregations of any size, the work is too overwhelming for one person (although most churches approach it as the role of the lead minister – and the lead minister may be uniquely gifted for this work, but does not have the bandwidth to take on dozens of such individual journeys).

On the other hand, there are those among us, spiritually mature, patient and thoughtful listeners, excellent mentors when given the opportunity, who are perfect for this work.  And when this work is done well, everyone (including the institution) thrives.

It is interesting to observe Jesus interacting with people in a holistic manner.  He listens attentively and addresses the true needs of the souls of folk who are looking to him for direction.  He meets them one-on-one in those conversations and prescribes a personalized prescription for moving forward to healing and wholeness.  Note that he rarely stipulates an action that directly serves an institution, program, or process.  Those structures have not yet co-opted the life of  “the church.”  A person serving as a holistic spiritual mentor or advisor makes use of any and all available resources.  They are not limited to a specific curriculum or reading list (although such assets can be very helpful, used well), and they are not limited to a single menu of options for study or service (although, again, those are a great place to start).  They are tailored to the specific needs of the seeker and, therefore, avail themselves of an imaginative array of options and possibilities.  They are willing to go where the quest leads with an open mind and a humble heart.

What do you think the experience of spiritual seeking is like for a new person who is entering your local faith community?  Do you think they feel heard?  Understood?  Empowered to follow their own path?  Well resourced?  How would you describe your own experience in terms of being empowered and well-directed on your own spiritual journey?  Do you wish for yourself that you might have had more support and more attentive direction?  If so, how will that knowledge affect your choices going forward as you help others chart their way?  Share your thoughts and the challenges you can see in holistic spiritual growth guidance in the comments section below.