Melancholy Prophet

I debated whether or not to publish this, so I waited a couple months. (Just fyi.)

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From FreeImages.com

On this cloudy April day, I am feeling melancholy. I am in one of those ruminations where I keep thinking about all the ways we human beings cover up our own lives—how when there is pain, or a serious issue, or something that may mean change, we are really good at hiding it.  But there are consequences. It’s like covering up an infected, festering wound with a bandage. It looks good, it hides the pus and blood, but it only leads to more sickness and perhaps death. Nice thought, huh?

Here’s a couple reasons why I’m in this funk.

  1. Today I finished watching Thirteen Reasons Why on Netflix. In this series, a teenage girl dies of suicide. She leaves behind recordings on cassettes, in which she details 13 reasons / people who led her to her decision. This girl didn’t tell her parents, teachers or counselors what was going on. She just hid her pain instead. After her death, the teenagers who are mentioned on the tapes try hard to keep the truth covered up. Finally, that Band-Aid is “ripped off” as the parents finally get the opportunity to listen to their daughter’s tapes. The end.

Really?? What happened to the rest of the characters? Do the bullies and perpetrators ever make restitution or face real consequences? Do the parents find closure? Do the school personnel deal with the bullying / climate at the school? Or is the Bandaid just put back on? And if it is the latter, who else will despair enough to die?

Sigh.

  1. A well –meaning friend sent me an article about the White House “lighting up blue” for autism awareness. As an autism parent, I only felt disgust. I think this is a bandaid to cover up what is really happening. As I said on my Facebook post, “Lighting up the white house blue means nothing if the policies will negatively affect those who have autism. Just saying.” So go ahead, White House, light it up blue, but are you going to make sure that a Free Appropriate Public Education is in place for those with intellectual disabilities? Are you going to make sure that they have the Medicaid services they need? Or are you going to just be nice and put a lit-up-blue bandaid on to distract the damage that is being proposed?

I admit that, when I get into a funk, everything seems 100 times worse than it probably is. That’s also the danger of the life of someone who is called a “prophet” by her friends. Prophets see things that others don’t see, make connections between seemingly unrelated things and speak the truth about those things. Prophets are not popular when they do that. It’s ripping a bandaid off of a festered wound so it can be treated: messy, stinky, but necessary.

Tomorrow I go to finish my training and receive my certification as a TIIMS (Transitional and Intentional Interim Ministry Specialist). This means that I will go into Christian congregations that are in transition– a major conflict or crisis, loss of a long-term pastor, etc.–  and be there short term to help facilitate healing and remove barriers to moving forward. Part of me is very cynical about this. I wonder how many nice “bandaids” I will have to “rip off” in order to get to the root of the “infection” that is making the congregation “sick” and unable to move forward in mission and ministry to their communities. I am fully aware that the congregation will have to follow through with the prescribed course of action. And I am skeptical.

Yet I keep going. I know that I only see in a mirror dimly, but someday I will see clearly. I believe God is up to something good. And so I keep ripping off bandaids so the healing can begin.

Thanks for putting up with my musing.

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