*warning I drop an Fbomb in here*
This January term I am taking a class called “Ministry with
Persons with Disability’s”, so far I am loving it. Today we talked about my
area of passion Mental Illness/ Behavioral Health. We had a speaker in the
morning who is an educator and pastor in the field of cognitive disability’s
and mental health he also known the pain of depression. In the afternoon our instructor
gave us a PowerPoint presentation and a women asked the question “why don’t people
just tell”. I felt that pesky Holy Spirit rising in my stomach and told it to
quiet down. But she went on and another classmate gave her answer and then the
Holy Spirit burst forth and called me to tell my story.
Telling
your story of MI, is something painful, courageous, daring, stupid and a host
of many other things. I told they good
the bad and the ugly. I discussed how I lost my job, got discriminated against
in the seminary by people who I thought would care because they are Pastors by
profession. And just how wrong I was. How I was wounded deeply by the church
cut to my core, and how I felt that I could not go to church again because I
was afraid to get hurt again the way I got hurt in the past. As a seminarian I
know that one church does not reflect the entirety of the UMC or the whole Christian
church, but it got me thinking about those not as ‘hearty’ with the stupidity
of the church saying ‘fuck this shit’ and walking away forever. This hurts me
even more then my personal wounding.
But with
the assistance of that dam pesky Holy Spirit, I got brave and preached it. I
was not intending to preach it. My classmates thanked me for speaking out and
offered encouragement. But also knew the grim reality’s that I and others like
me might face in the shadow of the church.
My favorite
Gospel is Mark. I like how its quick and dirty and Jesus just does what needs
to get done, its not flowery or sweet with a nativity story its dirty! Its
messy, its crazy. Its also the gospel of the dimwitted disciples(another post
to be made). But most importantly it’s the gospel of courage to me.
Mark 16:
1-8, the original ending of Mark, recounts how the women came to do the final
tending of the grave of Jesus. But then a young man dressed in white tells them
“6But
he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who
was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place
they laid him.”
They end up running away in amazement and
terror. But something happened, Marks not the only book that makes up the New
Testament. We have acts, we have Paul’s letters and the other pastorals, so
they must have told someone. That or we
have an elaborate fairy tales on our hands.
But I think that it is more that they took the courage of the faith they
had in Jesus who was a great prophet to them, maybe they knew he was God. They where likely still afraid and I would
be, but they decided that faith was greater then fear. That the courage to
share that faith was more important then the fear.
I
am still afraid of a lot of things regarding my MI, how will I manage it as
someone who will be losing there parents insurance in two years, might I have
to go inpatient, how will I afford this, will the church let me ‘in’, can I get
ordained, can I get a job in ministry, can I get a job period? Lots of fears
will my potential future children have MI like me. Could I willfully and
knowingly bring that upon a child?
But
it takes all of my courage to walk on, to know that I will manage. I will make
it work; I will find a church that will ordain me, a job in ministry. It will
happen. It might not happen in the way I expect it to or plan it at all, but I
have to have the courage to know that it will somehow work out.
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