The Pain that Heals

Since suffering is the inevitable path to self-mastery and service to others, it could well be argued that those who are in travail are best left to their own devices. Outside interference could impede the spiritual growth of the one in difficulties. Some votaries of the reincarnation hypothesis refrain from actively helping those in distress in the belief that these people are discharging an accumulated karmic debt from a previous ill-spent life through their sufferings in this one. This is indeed one of the baneful results of an unbalanced acceptance of rebirth and karma without the modifying factor of God's love and the atoning sacrifice made by Jesus Christ.

Extreme and unacceptable as these views are, they do nevertheless stress one aspect of suffering that is usually forgotten in our sentimental, sensationalised world: it is a way of growth into a full human being, and it is interrupted at the peril of both the victim and the agent of healing. Until one has claimed a blessing from one's pain, one cannot be freed from it, no matter how much the sensation be annulled by drugs or a Charismatic healing gift. Once we, like our spiritual forefather Jacob, have obtained the blessing, we move forward, as if in a ceremony of initiation, to a greater knowledge of God and an augmented capacity to help those in need around us. The stern writer of the Letter to the Hebrews expresses this need for God's disciplinary rod thus: "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood (as Christ did). You have forgotten the text of Scripture (Proverbs 3:11-12) which addresses you as sons and appeals to you in these words: 'My son, do not think lightly of the Lord's discipline, nor lose heart when he corrects you, for the Lord disciplines those whom he loves; he lays the rod on every son whom he acknowledges.' You must endure it as a discipline: God is treating you as sons. Can anyone be a son, who is not disciplined by his father?" (Hebrews 12:4-8).

Another important teaching about the way to wholeness is contained in Jesus' description, in Matthew 12:43-45, of the unclean spirit who leaves a man and wanders over the deserts seeking a resting-place. Finding none, it returns and finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and tidy. Off it goes to collect seven other spirits, more wicked than itself, and they all come in and settle down, so that, in the end, the mans plight is worse than before. Through this warning we can learn that a removal of some superficial difficulty or pain may not necessarily help the sufferer in his future life. If he is not at the same time changed inwardly so as to prove inhospitable to the invading powers of chaos and disintegration, he will more than likely be the victim of even worse disorder in the future. And the spirits are not necessarily obsessing psychic entities; they may even more probably show themselves in the form of physical diseases, moral lapses that lead to a breakdown in family relationships, and national disasters in which the person has played his part in endangering the solidarity of his own community. In fact there is the closest connection between inner states of malaise and the psychic milieu in which the deeper part of the mind functions, being as it is, in communion with the powers of darkness and light. All this is of the greatest importance both with regard to the deeper springs of suffering and to the efficacy of intercessory prayer, especially for the dead. One principle does stand out quite clearly: wholeness does not consist in removing a present source of travail; it demands a complete transformation of the person's attitude to life, which in turn is an outward sign of a transfigured personality. Suffering is the agent of transfiguration, and it will continue, in one form or another, until the person is changed into something of a son of God. As St Paul says, "Circumcision is nothing; uncircumcision is nothing; the only thing that counts is new creation" (Galatians 6:15). And when he is so changed, he plays his part in changing the world from a cesspit of corruption governed by the principle of death to the kingdom of heaven where all the brethren live together in the presence of God. The beautiful, short Psalm 133 expresses this vision perfectly.

Another important biblical text that points to the necessity of a complete reconciliation with the source of suffering, and not merely its removal, is Numbers 21:4-9. This describes one of the frequent apostasies of the Israelites during their journey through the desert to the Promised Land. The Lord sent poisonous snakes among the people. These they bit so that many of them died. Once again there was general repentance, and the people asked Moses to plead with the Lord to rid them of the serpents. Moses interceded for them with God, and he was told to make a serpent of bronze and erect it as a standard, so that anyone who had been bitten should look upon it and recover. From this we learn that, until the source of suffering and death is confronted unflinchingly and its implications faced without fear, it will continue to cause destruction. But once this same affliction is lifted up in penitence and faith to God, it ceases to be destructive and becomes instead the agent of the person's healing. The things of darkness, once acknowledged to be mine, assume a transfigured radiance in the light of the healing power of the Holy Spirit. In John 3:14-15 we read that the Son of Man must be lifted up as the serpent was lifted up by Moses in the wilderness, so that anyone who has faith in Him may in Him possess eternal life. When the eyes are raised to Christ, they behold first the figure of a degraded man, crucified between two criminals - a reminder of the dread we all feel at the thought of disgrace, isolation and annihilation. But if they continue to watch, they see the resurrected Christ leaving His companions finally as He ascends to His eternal abode with the Father, so becoming available to all men even when two or three are gathered together in His name.

It is paradoxical that sickness is the way to healing and suffering the path to wholeness. What then is the authentic ministry of healing that should play a very important part in the spiritual life of the Church? It is that of sustaining the afflicted one during his period of suffering so that he can emerge a stronger, more compassionate person, able to bear the pain of the world. In this respect the problems that confront us come into two broad categories, the personal and the existential. Personal problems appertain to such immediate consideration as our state of health, our relationships with those close to us in the family and at work, our financial security, and the means of our employment. They can be modified and lightened, being within the scope of scientific and social understanding. The ministry of healing in this aspect of suffering embraces a vast range of disciplines extending from medical practice and its many ancillary branches, such as nursing and dietetics, through psychotherapy to education, economics and politics. It is important to realise that the agencies of healing are not restricted to those with medical skills, psychological knowledge or a paranormal healing gift. Each person is a potential minister of healing. (I prefer this title to that of "healer", which seems to place too much of the emphasis on the person and not enough on God, from whose Spirit all healing flows.)

The ministry of healing, as we see it in our present situation, is essentially a first-aid station for those who are afflicted with a personal problem of ill-health, family breakdown, poverty or unemployment. According to his problem, the specialised agency can prescribe the appropriate remedy, after which the person often feels better and functions more efficiently in his particular social environment. But it is doubtful whether he is a more whole, or integrated, individual, despite this amelioration of his problem. This criticism of the healing function, which embraces charismatic powers no less than orthodox medicine, in no way belittles the important role that its practitioners play in alleviating pain and soothing distress. The emergency treatment of suffering is the first step towards personal integration around the deep centre of the soul where God is known. But it is as likely to be followed by a relapse into complacency and selfishness as to guide the person into a heightened response to life's demands.

This criticism of much so-called spiritual healing is pertinent even to the ministry of Jesus. On one occasion He healed ten men with leprosy. Nine went out on their way without so much as coming back to thank Jesus and give praise to God. Only one, a foreigner, was filled with thanksgiving for what he had received (Luke 17:11-19). Jesus said to the man: "Stand up and go on your way, your faith has cured you." The other nine were also cured, but they were no nearer wholeness than before they had met Jesus. And even those who did respond positively to Jesus' healing touch by a change in attitude developed only slowly into full people. Where were they when their Lord was crucified? Jesus' healing work is to be seen as a manifestation of His love towards those who were diseased and rejected. It was a manifestation that the kingdom of God was upon the earth; it was a call to repentance and belief in the Gospel. The kingdom of God is above all an environment of love where all who reside are healed in body and integrated in soul. But it takes a long time - perhaps many lives - for the person to respond to that love and accept the gift of wholeness.

The existential problems that confront us are, unlike the purely personal ones, an inevitable aspect of our life on earth; they are inherent in existence itself. They have no easily applied answer, and we have to learn to live with them. They include such facts of life as ageing and death, the fight for survival in an overpopulated society, natural disasters that lead to the death of millions of people, and the law of entropy by which all energy-directed systems, including our world, run down and eventually perish. An application of this law is the present menacing fuel crisis that may indeed put an end to all future social and economic development. Life has its checks and balances. Through the great advances in medical science and more enlightened social policies, an increasing number of people are destined to live until they are very old. The result will be an intolerable degree of overcrowding with an increasing number of unemployed and a large population of retired, elderly people who have little constructive to do. And life becomes unbearable when one has nothing to look forward to, so that one day is indistinguishable from the next. Nature will, of course, solve the problem either by widespread famine or else by the sword. Even now the threat of nuclear destruction is the one restraining factor that prevents large-scale warfare in many parts of the world. No facile agency of healing can avert the tragedy in store for mankind - and therefore our world which has been placed under man's dominion. Only a complete change in man's fundamental outlook can save the world.

This change is embraced in the single quality of love, a word used so promiscuously to embrace every state of personal desire that it has ceased to have significant spiritual currency in our contemporary society. True love is essentially an experience in which the soul of one person vibrates in closest harmony with that of the other. They begin to function as one person, so close is the bond of unity. And yet it does not obliterate those differences in personality and outlook that are the glory of an individual person. Each has his own contribution to make, but this is achieved only when the person is secure in his social setting, needing neither to assert himself at the expense of others, nor fearing a threat to his identity by the mass of humanity in which he lies submerged. I have shown that this movement to personal integrity and authenticity is achieved only by the refining fire of suffering that transfigures all egoistical tendencies in the personality so that they become servants of the soul. Thereby the soul itself serves God as an integrated whole, and gives itself in service to the world. In the service of God there is alone perfect freedom, for in God we are accepted for what we are, and in that service we can see the other person as ourself. We learn the great lesson of spirituality that, in loving our neighbour as ourself, we see him in ourself and recognise the strong bonds of identification that unite all creatures. The disciples on the road to Emmaus recognised Christ in the stranger - at first, assuredly a very special stranger, the risen Lord, but ultimately in every stranger, because He is the eternal stranger. When we are lifted up to God on the cross, we start to be like Him, and we see that Christ is the power as well as the person who brings us all together, so that our love for each other is unitary. As St Paul puts it: "And because for us there is no veil over the face, we all reflect as in a mirror the splendour of the Lord; thus we are transfigured into his likeness, from splendour to splendour; such is the influence of the Lord who is Spirit" (II Corinthians 3:18).

It is at the heart of the paradox of the healing power of suffering that we begin to understand the true nature of the Antichrist who is always in our midst. He is the one who promises us deliverance from all our difficulties, who will solve all our problems for us. He makes our present lot so delightful that we desire nothing more than that our equilibrium may never be disturbed. He substitutes a worldly paradise for the kingdom of heaven. Antichrist is not a demonic figure typified in our own century by the person of a fascist or communist dictator or one of his henchmen. We have seen in Viktor Frankl's book Man's Search for Meaning how Nazi bestiality evoked saintliness in at least a few of its victims in the concentration camps of Europe, how their strength was made perfect in weakness. Some died praying that their torturers might attain forgiveness by virtue of their own sacrifice. In them we hear re-echoed Jesus' words on the cross: "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing." These words are no more poignant than the witness of the world's saints of every age when they have been martyred for the sake of righteousness. Antichrist reveals himself much more subtly and plausibly than this. He appears as an outwardly enlightened man of apparent good nature and well-disposed to his fellows, who takes charge of the world and usurps the place of God. He organises the world into the form of an advanced welfare state and makes everyone happy provided they bow down and worship him. All who co-operate with him live pleasant, uneventful lives, have plenty of possessions, and strive for the maintenance of their present status. Their inner eye is no longer lifted up to the Figure on the cross, who is the way, the truth and the life in God. Therefore they are not themselves transformed. They remain comfortable, complacent people, selfish and blind to the greater world, living like intelligent animals. They do not respond to the existential problems of life until they disappear, like the followers of Korah, swallowed up by the earth that splits and opens to receive their mortal bodies (Numbers 16:31). This is the way of Antichrist, that great deceiver, who promises us all the kingdoms of the world in their glory if we will only fall down and do him homage (Matthew 4:9).

The way to wholeness can be likened to removing skin after skin from an onion until the succulent core is revealed. Every skin of selfish desire has to be shed before the pearl within is discovered. This is the seed of God deeply placed in the soul, and, by a miracle of grace, it has pity on the outer discarded skins. It flows out to them in love, transfigures them to a new resurrection in which they give of themselves to the world, and makes their previously selfish desire now one for universal redemption. Our inner serpent, the selfish desire nature which is the accuser that casts its menacing shadow over the whole of our inner life, is raised up, transfigured on the cross of our affliction and becomes a life-giving power in the world.

There are no short cuts in our growth into spiritual beings. This is another way of affirming the slow emergence of the awakened person from the darkness of hell to the light of God's creative power. To be sure, there are many practitioners of the occult and purveyors of exotic meditation techniques around us in the world today who proffer instant panaceas to the gullible and unwise. But neither they nor their followers show the stature of a fully realised person. They remain trapped in the confines of their particular teaching or technique which subtly assumes an absolute authority in their lives. There is also the type of person who very properly responds deeply to the spiritual teachings of all the great religious traditions. He feels that, at heart, they are all saying the same thing, and that love is the basis of life. All this is surely true enough, but until one has given of oneself uncompromisingly to a particular way and tasted the fruits in one's own life, one will be merely scratching the surface of authentic existence. Such a purveyor of religions applauds the spirituality of the saints with his mind, but takes good care not to commit himself to knowing that spirituality in his own life. If he were to take the plunge into the depths of reality, only then would he emerge a changed person, divested of all superficial complacency by the penetrating, healing rays of suffering. It is only on that level that one can begin to appreciate the transcendental unity that underlies all authentic religious traditions.

How best can those who are undergoing spiritual pain be helped? One takes it for granted, of course, that suffering of a remediable type should be dealt with according to its source, whether physical, mental or social. The body should be revitalised and the person should be reinstated in his appropriate social setting, properly fed, clothed and housed. Until people have learned the elementary lessons of hygiene, they will never revere the sanctity of the body they have been given. Until people learn to respect their fellows and assimilate the golden rule - always treat others as you would like them to treat you (Matthew 7:12) - they will not know the holiness of personal relationships, and all partnerships, extending from collaboration in work to the sacrament of marriage, will founder on the sands of boredom, disillusionment and mistrust. Until the spiritual law is grasped, especially the law of supply - set your mind on God's kingdom and His justice before everything else, and all the rest will come to you as well (Matthew 6:33) - there can be no lasting material happiness and progress.

The intense pain of the soul is, however, something apart from this. It cannot be communicated easily to others, and only those who have travelled the same path can be of authentic help to the one in darkness. As I have already indicated, this pain is a compound of nameless, relentless fear, a sense of despair which has a personal as well as a cosmic component, and an agonising depression that annuls all attempts at work or recreation. This depression is, in part, the "accidie" that is known to assail spiritual aspirants - dry periods of sloth and torpor which are an outer manifestation of an inner despair that renders all spiritual effort futile. The personal component of the dark night of the spirit is God's way of depriving the soul of everything save a direct knowledge of Himself, and that in the dark emptiness of His incomprehensibility rather than in the light of His love. The dark face of God reflects the darkness of the world that its creatures have wrought through their self-centred appropriation of its substance. One has to suffer with God the Son, who was made flesh and dwelt among us in great humility, before one can know the uncreated light of the Holy Spirit and glimpse the unutterable splendour of the Father.

The cosmic component of the dark night of the spirit is the occluding psychic despair that descends like a black pall on the soul of the sufferer. It is the psychic darkness, previously described, which forms the basis of the collective pain of mankind, that annihilating power which Jesus had to encounter on His own in the Garden of Gethsemane, and which he overcame with love in the hell to which He descended after His crucifixion.

Spiritual suffering is overcome not by alleviation but by penetration. This is the great difference between the relief of personal problems and the healing of the whole person. If a personal problem is relieved, the sufferer emerges with felicity into a realm of ease and repose, which, by the very nature of life, is only an illusion. In due course he will be assailed by another problem, be it of ill-health, mental breakdown, or a shattering of some deep relationship which will leave him bereft of comfort and assurance: The healing of the whole person entails a resurrection of all that was ailing or incomplete in him, so that he emerges a renewed being, reflecting in himself the risen Lord. One has, as it were, to immerse oneself in full awareness and with absolute "onepointedness" into the suffering, so that it ceases to be separate from one but instead becomes one's closest associate. As one knows it, so one begins to accept it; as one accepts it, so one begins to love it. Perfect love banishes fear (I John 4:18).

It follows that the best way of healing a person in spiritual distress is to be with him constantly. This means a faithful witness to his need in the Spirit of God. One prays for him without ceasing, remembering him in one's intercessions and upholding him in one's thoughts at all times. He should also be assured of one's physical presence, both in direct encounter and by the medium of the telephone and the written word, as often as is expedient. It is not that we have much positive guidance to give him - only those who have emerged from the pit of travail themselves are reliable guides, and an inner wisdom informs their witness with a strong eloquent silence - so much as that our presence affords a constant source of strength and love to a soul isolated by psychic darkness. We dare not sleep when even the meanest of our brethren is in pain; we must be awake when Christ is crucified in the form of all who suffer and are cast out of respectable society. He is always identified with the victims of society's cruelty, and we show ourselves most authentically as spiritual beings when we are seen with Him in the slums, the prisons, the hospitals and the concentration camps.

Prayer is an essential act in the relief of spiritual suffering. It has two components: intercession for the one in pain and an even deeper intercession for those who are physically dead but whose souls are in torment in the life beyond death. It is to this subject of healing prayer that we must give our final attention.

The person who is approaching wholeness is able to confront the full panoply of life's vicissitudes with realism, courage, and faith. He has no ready-made answers, no esoteric wisdom that deflects from his own judgement, but he advances fearlessly through the darkness of unknowing confident of the eternal presence of the One Who resurrected matter to spirit and conquered death by love.