Neuroscientist Oliver Sacks writes about a man who appeared to be in a coma for decades. Then his doctors figured out that he was not brain dead but cold—in a kind of hibernating state. They treated him and he came back to life— memory intact, able to talk and move—almost as if he’d been asleep for the winter like one of our local bears. He and his family were happy, but soon it became clear that his warming brought other things to life. An aggressive form of cancer, which had been dormant, came roaring back to life. He lived half a year before he died: six months wide awake.
Hiking the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking of this man. In Cook County we go from everything being frozen, seeming to be in a coma—to abundant life— spring flowers, tender leaves, luxurious ferns. So beautiful, so full of life— but with that life comes bugs galore. Mosquitoes, black flies, gnats…. Coming back to life has its drawbacks!
The call to deepening spirituality is the call to new life, all kinds of new life. It’s not a call to be happy in some vacuous way—like I was told 30 years ago—“God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.”
In fact, if we say yes to the call, yes to life in the spirit, it is not only a call to joy, but also a call to painful reckoning, complicated re-thinking, hard won transparency. Along with the green leaves come the bugs.
A few years ago I was doing spiritual direction with a woman (whom I’ll call Mandy). She had, over two months, come to a whole new faith. Mandy grew up in a home which might be characterized as “fervent Unitarian”—mentioning God or mystery or something not answerable by reason or science was looked down on. For her, opening to God was an amazing blossoming into new life.
After meeting with her weekly for those months, I had to be away for six weeks. Just before I left, I said to her, “By the way…sometimes when people choose life like you are …when they begin to come alive spiritually… something will come up. Maybe something they’ve hidden away for many years, something they’d repressed…. Like an attic storage space you forgot…. Just be aware…”
When I got back, Mandy arrived at our first meeting in tears. One morning, she told me, she had been sitting quietly, when a terrible time in her life had come rushing back. The pain of unfinished business, torn relationships, lack of closure overwhelmed her. For Mandy to continue her spiritual quest, she had to not only open that door, but also to clean out the closet. She was pulled way deeper than she expected. The green leaves and the bugs.
Theologian Stanley Hauerwas says that “God doesn’t give a _______ whether you’re happy or not. God wants you to be whole.”
Christ was clear on this: the journey is not easy. There are no guarantees this side of the grave. The old life—for those first followers and for us— would have been easier. Say yes, and you will be asked to give up living in oblivion. You might have to face your lack of integrity. Past hurts, past damage to others will bubble up. Lifestyle issues may begin to feel more pressing—how can I spend this amount of money on this, when people are starving….
In other words new life has its joys and its trials—the green leaves and the bugs. Sometimes the old life, the one in a coma, or in the oblivion of materialism, or the adrenaline rush of pursuing success—those might sound pretty good.
Mandy would say that coming to life has been worth it. But this journey is not one to take alone. When we’re coming to life, choosing depth, we will encounter unexpected challenges. It’s good to be with others who have chosen to live awake, others who are willing to walk the walk with us—supporting, challenging, processing. Swatting the occasional bug.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month’s s contributor is Mary Ellen Ashcroft, Vicar of Spirit of the Wilderness Episcopal Church.
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