Journey to Wholeness

Ruth came to my office in deep anguish and fear. She was a well-groomed woman in her early 50s who spoke in a soft, rushed monotone, with an urgency and quality of desperation in her voice. She flooded the room in a torrent of words and tears, as if she needed to tell her story without interruption in fear of not being able to finish.

Ruth had lived with a disastrous marriage—a sordid relationship of alcoholism and extramarital affairs for more than 25 years. Her husband had been a binge drinker, and when he was drunk he became viciously cruel and abusive; she responded in kind. Somehow he had been able to hold a well-paid managerial position with a company for many years, but eventually he was fired because of his chronic alcohol problem and related patterns of behavior.

One evening while Ruth and her husband were lying in bed, the television malfunctioned and caught fire. The bedroom filled with smoke, and the drapes began to burn. Ruth's husband, attempting to extinguish the flames with his bathrobe, was burned on more than 80 percent of his body. He died a painful death three days later.

Ruth wept bitterly as she related the vivid details of holding her husband's lifeless hand and trying to comfort his charred body during those last three horrible days. She hated him, and yet she had tried to love him in his dying. She was bitter and angry, and yet she desperately sought forgiveness and reconciliation.

He died in great pain, but Ruth's pain in living was only beginning. Her adult daughter refused to attend her father's funeral; she hated her father and blamed her mother for his drinking, the ugly relationship, and for his death. Subsequently, both she and her brother had moved out of town and refused to visit or even communicate with their mother.

Several days after her husband's death, Ruth began experiencing a recurring nightmare. She would dream of the badly burned body, from which she could not escape. Clinging to it she was immobilized in fear and dread. She would awaken at two or three o'clock in the morning screaming hysterically and drenched in sweat.

This dream had occurred every night for three years. She could rarely go back to sleep, and she was perpetually exhausted and agitated. Her very life had become a nightmare. Ruth told me that she had been treated by numerous physicians, counselors, and psychiatrists and had been put on every kind of medication without relief. She said that if something did not happen soon, she was going to lose her mind or take her life.

Ruth had quit participating in her parish and felt that the church could not offer any help. She failed to follow the path of wholeness, and the community of faith did not reach out to her. As she was exposed to destructive spiritual forces, emotional and physical disturbances became prevalent in her life.

If sin is understood as missing the spiritual mark—hamartia in the Greek—then there is a very direct connection between sickness and sin. Ruth was experiencing the direct power of evil on her psyche that had observable effects in the physical world. Jung called this direct correspondence between inner image and outer reality "synchronicity."

I quietly gave thanks that she indeed had a way out and that her hope lay in inner healing through the love and compassion of Jesus. Peter writes, "With the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day" (2 Peter 3:8). We can ask Jesus to walk back in time with us. We can ask him in prayer to be present at the specific moment that the hurtful event or problem occurred and to heal the painful memory. The memory remains, but the pain associated with it, which can keep us in some way blocked and dysfunctional, is gone.

Ruth was released from her nightmares from the day we together prayed specifically for healing. They have never returned. Ruth was able to forgive herself, her husband, and her children. Her experience of encounter with a compassionate, healing God enabled her to stand against the elements that sought to destroy her, and she began to rebuild her life and family.

EVIL AND DESTRUCTIVENESS are realities. The apostle Paul makes it abundantly clear in his letter to the believers in Ephesus: "For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:12).

We are not able to handle such powers, these dark and destructive forces, on our own, but need to call upon God to come to our aid. Ruth began to put on the "whole armor of God"—truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, and the Word of God—so that she would be able to continue to withstand and to stand (Ephesians 6:13-17). She now stands as a witness in her transformation and growth to the renewing, freeing, and healing power of Jesus Christ.

Our contemporary quest for health, healing, and wholeness must begin in the church and its congregations. The vocation to serve as a healing community has its origin in the life and teachings of Jesus. But the church has tried, most often schizophrenically, to maintain a Cartesian world view—a paradigm in which the body, mind, and spirit are split, with no natural intercourse possible—and still claim the ultimate power of God as creator, healer, and sustainer. Even Christian health practitioners are generally limited by the dogmatic stance of the biomedical model that reduces health to mechanical functioning.

But we are now beginning to realize that the functions that are crucial to our health and well-being, as in the case of Ruth, do not lend themselves to a reductionist, mechanistic description. By concentrating on smaller and smaller fragments of the body, we have not been able to cure, or even to understand, most of today's prevalent diseases and problems of the "post-industrialized era."

A whole-person, integrated, ecological systems approach is needed because the mechanical, biomedical approach has simply failed the test of experience. The common experience of the Christian life in the Spirit must once again become the foundation of human knowledge and praxis of the faith.

But we in the church are often guilty of empty, pious rhetoric, not really believing in and knowing the living, reigning God of shalom. Our view of reality is rigid and closed, and what we confess with our tongues as the truth of the faith is often lived out as functional atheism. We need to take our lead, in fact, from the modern physicists and a few theologians who grapple with a new world view that integrates mind and body with a spiritual reality.

GOD BRINGS US health in many forms, but until we are touched by the reality of the Spirit, we cannot be truly whole. Our spiritual life, then, becomes a key determining factor in our journey toward wholeness. Bishop Krister Stendahl has said that God's agenda is the mending of creation. God is active in the creation and is present to us—for our healing and ultimate salvation. This word salvation, from the root word salvus, means "healed." Thus an abundant life of wholeness comes only in the mending, the healing, not just in a cure.

Paul writes in his second letter to the Corinthians, "Therefore, if any one is in Christ, they are a new creation; the old has passed away, behold, the new has come" (2 Corinthians 5:17). In his book The New Being, Paul Tillich writes:

Where there is real healing, there is this new creation, a New Being. But real healing is not where only a part of body or mind is reunited with the whole, rather where the whole itself, our whole being, our whole personality is united with itself. The New Creation is healing creation because it creates reunion with oneself. And it creates reunion with the others.

This is the challenge and the message of the Christian faith: healing what is fractured, giving a center to that which is estranged, and mending the rupture between God and humankind and between each other and the world. Tillich continues to challenge us:

Salvation is reclaiming from the old and transferring into the New Being. This understanding includes the elements of salvation which were emphasized in other periods; it includes, above all, the fulfillment of the ultimate meaning of one's existence, but it sees this in a special perspective, that of making salvus, of "healing."

This is certainly the truth of the story of Ruth's healing and all the gospel healing stories.

The story of the woman with the hemorrhage is a powerful example of Jesus' way of love and healing. In the scriptures we read that this woman had been bleeding for 12 years and, looking for a cure, had spent all of her money on physicians. She had not gotten any better, only worse; Jesus was probably only one of many local "healers" she had sought out.

She—an "unclean" woman—walked daringly with the crowd that was following Jesus and his disciples to the house of Jairus, a leader in the synagogue, whose daughter was dying. In her faith, that is, in her total trust in that which was hoped for (an arrest of the bleeding), she reached out and touched Jesus' garments. The hemorrhage ceased immediately.

Jesus, feeling power go out from him, stopped abruptly and asked who had touched him. Did the woman get what she had come for? Yes, the bleeding had stopped; she got her cure. But Jesus was not content with a physical cure. He called her forth to speak the whole truth of her life so that the healing might be complete.

We are not told anything of their conversation. Perhaps she had attempted to induce an abortion 12 years earlier; perhaps she had a tumor. She undoubtedly was angry, bitter, and fearful; who knows what worse fate might have befallen her had she sneaked away in unawareness. But Jesus proclaims, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease" (Mark 5:34). The woman believed in faith that she would be healed; she visualized wholeness—that which was hoped for, but not yet seen.

Jesus was so in tune with God, that in the union of the woman's faith with his loving compassion, he was a conduit for the healing power of God. He gave her back to herself as a new creature, healed and whole.

THE CHURCH TODAY must again take seriously the healing ministry of Jesus and construct a world view that will give it credence and that people can truly see and hear. In order to live in a new awareness as the people of God, it is important to state and understand several assumptions:

- God can be encountered in a real way.

- A spiritual reality (including good and evil forces) exists that is different from, yet intimately connected to, the reality of our day-to-day existence in this world.

- It is basically God's will that we be without sickness, that we be whole persons.

- The triad of body, mind, and spirit is one of integral interrelatedness.

- The etiology or origin of sickness is manifold and includes physical, mental, emotional, psychological, and spiritual causes.

- Healing occurs in many ways and is always more than a physical cure.

- The risen Christ can and is willing to restore health through prayer.

- Prayer is a real source of power in achieving wholeness and promoting health, as well as both preventing and curing sickness.

- Wellness is not in and of itself the ultimate goal.

- Wholeness is never fully attained in this life, but is an ongoing process of transformation and growth.

Prayer plays an important part in the healing process; it is the key to living in graced wholeness, empowered by the Spirit. Richard Foster, theologian and author, challenges us in his book Celebration of Discipline:

To pray is to change. Prayer is the central avenue God uses to transform us. If we are unwilling to change, we will abandon prayer as a noticeable characteristic of our lives. The closer we come to the heartbeat of God the more we see our need and the more we desire to be conformed to Christ.

Prayer includes many components—praise, thanksgiving, intercession, and communion and communication with God in listening and asking. But, most importantly, prayer is a means of grace by which God transforms us; true prayer is the lived experience of the Lord working in and through us. It is risky business.

As psychologists have elucidated, we resist change and, indeed, flee from God, the integrating one who would heal us and make us whole. Sometimes the pain and brokenness in our lives become so overwhelming and even life threatening, yet we do not dare to risk the danger of change and growth—of being healed—like Ruth or the woman with the hemorrhage. In faith they ultimately surrendered control to the power of God.

Prayer itself is an act of faith, and through faith we are empowered. In that power is the kingdom of God—the power of the Holy Spirit—to effect real healing of a person individually, in relationships with others, and in the world.

PRAYER FOR HEALING can be considered within a framework of a fivefold movement: creating space, articulating the hurt, forgiving, letting go, and integrating the parts into the whole. Within this movement or process we are embraced by the healing Lord so that we can begin to reach out to others in prayer and compassionate solidarity.

When we create space we make room for God. We step away, both literally and figuratively, from the clutter and busyness of our lives, so that the Spirit has room to work. Time devoted to solitude and silence allows us to walk into our "soul room" and take a look at the dusty museum pieces—the hurts, the wounds, the fears, the loneliness. It is a time to hear God saying, "Be still and know that I am God."

It is also a time to give praise for God's love and mercy as we go before the throne of grace. We want to experience the reality of the risen Christ in our midst, believing and trusting in God that something will really happen. We create space because we believe that "whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith" (Matthew 21:22). Jesus always created space for people.

The second component in the process of healing is articulating the hurt. Jesus knew how important this was. He often took people aside: he asked blind Bartimaeus what it was that he wanted; he asked the man who sat at the pool of Bethsaida for 38 years if he really wanted to be healed; the woman with the hemorrhage articulated "the whole truth of her life." We, too, have been promised that the power of the Spirit of Jesus is with us. It is important to ask for guidance to help discern the reasons for praying, to articulate clearly the pain or brokenness.

For example, a physical problem, such as peptic ulcer disease, is perhaps the manifestation of emotional turmoil and distress. Prayer for inner healing, as in the story of Ruth, would supersede prayer for physical healing. James admonishes us, "You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly" (James 4:3). The prayer for guidance constantly surrounds the prayer of faith. An inward journey through centering prayer, meditation with music, journaling, or focusing are all important ways to identify and articulate our specific needs for healing.

Forgiveness is the third major component in prayer for healing. The prophet Nathan, with the help of a poignant story, assisted David, the beloved king of Israel, in articulating his sin. David's confession was followed by Nathan's assurance that the Lord had already forgiven him for his love affair with Bathsheba and that he would not die. The child of David and Bathsheba, however, does die. But Bathsheba gave birth to another son, Solomon, the child of the promise, in the lineage of Jesus. Without that kind of unconditional forgiveness, David would have remained bound by guilt and fear.

In the life of Jesus, healing flowed from his forgiving and loving in his interactions with people and in the stories and parables he told. Confession and forgiveness are realities that transform us, too, individually and corporately. We are asked to confess our sins to one another and pray for one another that we might be healed (James 5:16). The absence of forgiveness can alone block healing.

THE FOURTH COMPONENT, letting go, is perhaps the most difficult for many people in the process of healing. What happens if we cannot let go? What happens if we cannot picture ourselves or another person forgiven or healed? We often remain bound and continue to bind others.

But the mind has the wonderful ability to summon and hold certain images. Our emotions and physiology are likely to follow the direction set by our mind. There is increasing evidence that mental phenomena can have a profound positive or negative impact upon an individual's entire psycho-physiology.

God sees us whole, made in God's image. So, too, we should visualize in prayer the same wholeness and healing that God intends for us or for another. By praying as specifically as possible, visualizing a positive image of health (whether an organ, an emotional response, or the total person), we affirm the power of God and deny power to any negative image. Paul declares, "And we all, with unveiled faces, reflecting the glory of the Lord, are being changed into God's likeness from one degree of glory to another" (2 Corinthians 3:18). And gradually we will begin to let go.

Creating space, articulating the hurt, forgiving, and letting go— these four components of healing call us to self-responsibility and choice in our struggle for wholeness. We can choose to place ourselves before God so that the Spirit might work within us. This implies a need for healthy self-discipline and the willingness to act out of obedience, even when we do not feel like it. Such decisions are an act of will; we cannot rely solely on our feelings before we choose to enter into the process of healing. Ultimately we must depend on God's abundant love and grace.

Integrating the parts into the whole is the final step in the fivefold movement of healing. After his resurrection Jesus was never seen without the marks of his crucifixion. He showed his disciples the wounds in his hands, feet, and side. The wounds were no longer painful, but they became an integrated part of the whole of who he was and is. They represent, in fact, that which enabled Jesus to be fully who he is for all people—savior and Lord.

Our own painful wounds, whether psychological, emotional, spiritual, or physical, are rarely, if ever, redemptive. However, when healed and woven into the fabric of our lives, they allow us to serve our brothers and sisters with love and compassion, bringing healing to the woundedness of those in need in our families and communities. Our healed hurts stand in witness that we have prevailed with the help of God. Prayer is the way of this compassionate life. Real prayer is empowering change.

We end our prayer with thanksgiving to God that what we have asked for in faith shall indeed be so. In gratitude that God has heard us, we can exclaim with the psalmist, "We give thanks to you, O God; we give thanks; we call on your name and recount your wondrous deeds" (Psalms 75:1).

WITHIN THIS FIVEFOLD movement, there are times when we need to be anointed and touched during prayer for healing. Using oil to anoint the forehead or the afflicted body part with the sign of the cross and in the name of the Lord (James 5:14) is an ancient tradition in the church. It connects us to our baptism and serves as a sacramental sign in healing. Historically oil was thought to have medicinal value and is referred to in the Talmud. Today we can think of it as a powerful symbol of God's healing that is present not only in prayer but in all the healing arts and sciences.

Touching a person, and being touched, imparts not only human warmth, love, and compassion psychologically, but actually transfers energy as well. Think of the woman with the hemorrhage touching Jesus. What we can theologically call the divine light or the healing light of God, modern scientific research is showing to be true.

Jesus, our model, touched people who needed and sought healing. We read in Luke 4:40, "Now when the sun was setting, all those who had any that were sick with various diseases brought them to him; and he laid his hands on every one of them and healed them." The disciples learned from Jesus, and they touched people. We are also asked to become channels of God's healing power in this way.

As faith is a prerequisite, so love is the heart of prayer for healing and reconciliation. The community of faith and love, the church, serves the Lord by reaching out to others in love. It is the sign of the kingdom of God.

It is also important to recognize that healing is more than an individual event. As the people of God, we are called to be a healing and praying community. As a living witness to a life of wholeness—spiritually, physically, mentally, socially, economically, and politically—we are to pray for peace, the earth, the poor, justice, and an end to violence everywhere. We must eagerly seek the values of the kingdom of God, the values Jesus lived and taught.

Prayer for the healing of the nations is as vital as prayer for the healing of persons. Both are interconnected and interdependent, and the same components of the fivefold movement that have been discussed above can and should be applied. In both we need to start by acknowledging our utter dependence upon God and praying that by God's grace we might share in the life of the Spirit.

Far more than we realize, our very presence has an impact on the people and the world around us. When we touch the heartbeat of God in prayer, we experience the one who saves and transforms. We are truly co-laborers with God as we help to create a reality of healing, reconciliation, and wholeness.

Kenneth L. Bakken, founder and director of St. Luke Health Ministries in Baltimore, Maryland, and author of' The Call to Wholeness: Health As A Spiritual Journey, was a physician and teacher when this article appeared.